#dean’s mother issues hit very close to home

[melancholictearz]

i am so unwell with the way my mind links kate bush’s mother stands for comfort lyrics with young dean’s relationship to his dead mother

the hunted, mary, trying to protect her child becoming a hunter despite himself— out of (his father’s) revenge……. when i tell you the things i’d do to see what dean’s life would have been if his mother didn’t die

[devilsgatewayhq]

Name: Freya Hudson Age: 35 Time living in Tonopah: Native Occupation: Owner of Fae's Florist Gang Affiliation: N/A Neighborhood: Springate Crossing Face Claim: Lily James

Biography (TW: child death, murder):

Freya Sabine was born to Dean and Ruth Hudson on Halloween night, the youngest of her siblings behind Adam and Maeve. Their upbringing was as loving and as stable as expected for your "typical" suburban family. Her mother worked as Head Nurse in the ER and her father, was a retired army veteran and a member of the Hellraisers MC. It wasn't until Freya hit thirteen that her family's life took a tumble for the worst. Her brother's life tragically got cut short due to a hit and run, and her father saw red and in turn, went to prison for double homicide (Dean later died in prison of a heart attack). It was at this point her mom separated herself from the MC due to the memories being too hard to face, and so despite her sister remaining close to the club, Freya went in the opposite direction and stayed far away from it. As Freya went through High School she had an eye for design, so her time at home was spent creating accessories and handmade cosmetics. This hobby was one that turned into aspiration, prompting her to move away to New York for further education (wanting to study a degree in design) and when she hit twenty, she started selling her creations on Etsy (bath bombs, soaps, candles, wax melts) under the name of Fae. The hustle and bustle of New York City was one Freya seemed to soak in, finding that sheer contrast from Tonopah one she enjoyed. She also grew even closer to her cousin, Hannah Cohen, whist in the Big Apple and the pair were as thick as thieves until she died unexpectedly and this second greatest loss in her life only drove Freya more into work as a distraction to cope with her grief. Despite her love, her relationship with her sister only grew to be strained, though the one with her mom remained strong as she continued through her twenties bettering her knowledge and furthering her online business. It wasn't until Freya was approaching thirty that the longing she had to be closer to her family created a push to move back home, once she was settled she started to study a business degree part-time, knowing that it didn't matter where she was situated she could still pursue her ambitions. She travelled to and from Vegas over the years for work and eventually gained an interest in floristry. It was in her early thirties, that she (unbeknown at the time) got involved with a married man. This relationship for her was pivotal with the way she now has severe trust issues. Freya is very skeptical and while it's a flaw; she doesn't seem to think so if somebody is lying to her she'd just retort with "ha, knew it!" not trusting that people have a genuine cause for concern. Over the last couple of years in Tonopah, Freya's opinion on gangs has only grown towards that of a disliking, especially with the chaos and destruction that seems to circle her hometown. She doesn't see them as good and she doesn't enjoy the open presence of the MC either, yet wanting to remain closer to her mom and try and gain a more healthier relationship with her sister stays important to her.

Headcanons:

Sells pictures of her feet on the internet for extra cash.

Rarely consumes alcohol, if she does she's a lightweight.

Attends the market on a Sunday's with her own products.

Sports fan - loves tennis.

Halloween is her favourite season.

[fantasmalresplendent]

Dean died at the ripe old age of 85.

In his lucid moments during the days leading up to his passing, in which Dean was just as sharp and as bright as he was fifty years ago, he remarked that people must think he’d robbed the cradle with a “hot piece” such as Castiel hanging around him. 

“You don’t mind that I’m a wrinkly, senile, crotchety old bastard?” Dean had asked, more than once, but he had always said it with a smile. And Castiel would smile back, replying with the same answer the answer many times, in many ways:

“You’re not senile.”

“Old, but not a bastard.”

“I thought I was the crotchety one.”

“I don’t mind.”

Then Dean would smile, and it would light up the room, and Castiel would wonder again how he came to deserve the focus, let alone the affection, of such a man.

“It’s not about deserving, Cas,” Dean had said, half-whispered in the middle of the night a few short months after they had begun to share the bed they laid in. “It’s… fuck, well I don’t know what it’s about. But people don’t get what they deserve, not most of the time.”

Castiel frowned, furrowing his brows. “They should,” he grumbled.

“Well if people got what they deserved, they’d… I don’t know, Sam would’ve actually become a lawyer, stayed in school. Jo, Ellen, Bobby, they’d all still be here. I’d get mauled by a werewolf or something, go out with a bang, and Baby,” Dean said sternly, as though chastising the universe itself for such an injustice, “Would never get so much as a scratch on her.”

“You think that’s what you deserve?” Castiel’s voice was soft, not wanting to disturb the still of the night, but steely as he considered even the possibility of Dean’s violent end. 

Dean registered that, swallowing, “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought I’d even make it this far. Hunters have the shortest lifespans of any human subspecies,” Dean cracked a smile, but his heart wasn’t in the joke. Castiel knew Dean was doing the math in his head. He knew Dean was mentally recalling how long it had been since Bobby left for heaven. Tallying up the number of people who were gone because of self-sacrifice, mistakes, pure dumb luck. Counting exactly how many years he had outlived his own mother. 

Castiel had wrapped his arms around Dean then, embracing him, surrounding him, and they curled into each other completely. Burying himself in Castiel’s neck, Dean had never felt so close to him, and yet so far away. “You don’t have to follow the same patterns if you don’t want to, Dean,” Castiel stated, as if it were that easy. “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get mauled by a werewolf?”

Dean sniffed in laughter, and that was answer enough.

Castiel found himself stroking Dean’s hair, an action he felt suited him. He thought for a moment in the stillness and in the space between their breaths. “Maybe it’s idealistic of me, but I still think people should get what they deserve. Even- no, especially you.”

Dean took his time answering, opening his mouth several times before actually saying, “Sometimes I don’t think I know what I deserve.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure that out together then. We have time,” Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead and he sighed at the touch. “We have plenty of time. Heaven will wait for you, no matter how long.”

Dean looked up at him then with a pout, “You sound pretty confident in that statement for a dude who hasn’t shown up to heavenly chorus practice in a few years.” 

Castiel smiled, “I’d rather be here with you. Always have.”

The man blushed. “Well, if I go… I mean, wherever I go… Where will you end up?”

“I could go with you.”

“Where?”

Castiel closed the distance between them fully, thumbing across Dean’s cheek as they kissed. “Anywhere. If you want me there, I will be there, whether it’s here or heaven. I’ll be there.”

“For how long?”

“For however long you want me to be.”

Dean kissed back, his fingers tangling in Castiel’s hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Sam went not long after Dean. It wasn’t a surprise; it was his time as well. His children were grown, his grandchildren almost grown, Castiel knew they’d miss him but that they’d be all right. And they knew to call on “Uncle Cas” if they weren’t, even the little ones who didn’t understand exactly how they were related, or why Great Uncle Dean's husband was only about as old as their parents.

“I mean I love the little gremlins,” Dean had said, cracking open a beer after a long few days of babysitting Sam and Eileen's girls while the expecting parents were in the hospital. He was exhausted, they both were, but beaming from meeting the newest member of the Winchester clan: a healthy baby boy named Robert. “But have you seen Sam’s house? Goddamn mess in there.”

“You… don’t want to have some of your own?” Castiel had asked carefully, taking the beer Dean held out for him.

“You’re making them sound like trading cards. I don’t know, I- I guess I never thought too hard about it.” Castiel could tell this was a lie by the way Dean didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if I had one.”

“Do you think you’d be a good father?”

Castiel had met John Winchester, in Hell. Well, he hadn’t exactly met him. He had really only passed by John’s cell, stole a glance at the infamous hunter on his way to retrieve Dean’s soul. He’d never told Dean what he saw, they were not close enough at the time. He wasn’t sure if Dean would even want to know. Castiel had almost spoken about it many times, but whenever Dean talked about John, “Dad,” a look crossed over his face, sometimes for only a second. A furrowing of brows, a tight smile, a quick transition to happier subjects.

The same look crossed over Dean’s face as soon as Castiel had asked the question.

“Wow. Um, loaded question there, Cas.”

He waited for Dean to meet his eyes before continuing, “I think you would be.”

“Do- wait,” Dean shook his head, trying to understand where Castiel was going with all of this, “Do you want kids?”

“I want you to live a normal life, Dean. I want to be able to give you what you want.”

“Okay, lots of stuff to unpack here. First of all, a normal life isn’t and never was an option,” Dean leaned back against the counter, “I think we can agree on that. Second of all, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...And third of all?” Castiel prompted.

“No, second of all first. Do you want kids?”

Castiel sighed, taking a swig of his beer, considering his words. “I’m an angel, Dean-”

“Is that so!” Dean raised his eyebrows, then squinted as if in deep thought, “Weird, somehow I never noticed.”

That deserved a well-placed eyeroll, but Castiel still had a point to make. “We don’t- I’m just trying to…” he set his beer down. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that I would love and care for a child, if it were ours. If we decided that was something we wanted, I would be so happy to raise them, with you. I’d be terrified,” Castiel admitted, “At the enormous and important responsibility, but I would love doing it, if… if it was with you. I just want you to know that, I guess,” Castiel shrugged, “I don’t want you to think it’s not an option for us, if you want it to be.”

“Okay…” Dean was thinking, swirling the beer around his glass. He pointed the mouth at Castiel, “You’re still avoiding my question,” Castiel really rolled his eyes this time, “But I don’t really think it’s for me, all that white picket fence stuff. If you really wanted a kid, I would definitely hit the library and read all those, I don’t know, fucking parenting guides, and take the Mommy and Me classes, whatever. And I think you’d be a good father, better than me, I’d just let them eat gummy worms and shoot slingshots.”

“Children love gummy worms. They listen and will behave better when offered gummy worms,” Castiel knew this for a fact from very recent personal experience, “I don’t see how gummy worms could pose an issue. Slingshots, however-”

“Okay so maybe I’m overestimating your abilities a little,” Dean held up a hand, “But still, I… I like this,” he gestured to the space between them and around them, “I like us. I like waking up to a clean kitchen and sleeping in on weekends. I like not having to ask more than one person whether or not I can take a drive by myself or crank my music really loud at midnight. And I fucking hate Paw Patrol.”

Castiel smiled.

“Sam and Eileen always need babysitters. That’s good enough for me right now.”

“You’ll tell me though, if this is something you really want,” Castiel insisted, “If you think about it and decide something else.”

“Sure.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, fine, I promise,” Dean took a step forward and leaned in for a kiss then. Castiel could taste the beer on Dean’s tongue and sighed. Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips, lowering his voice to a comical level, “We could, uh, you know, try and make some babies,” Dean waggled his eyebrows and Castiel pushed Dean’s laughing face away, but grabbed his hand, turning towards their room.

They hadn’t spoken about it again, not seriously anyway. They got a dog. Dean opened a vintage car garage. Castiel learned how to bake. They took long road trips to the beaches in California, wandered through roadside attractions like Carhenge in Nebraska and Cadillac Ranch in Texas. They bought decidedly way too much merchandise at Oklahoma’s National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. And maybe they killed the occasional vampire, the wayward poltergeist, but the occasions became less and less. There were younger, more spry hunters on the road now, always welcome at the bunker to look through their library or ask advice on a particularly troublesome spirit. Sam even coerced Dean into holding what became a yearly “conference,” “What are we, a tech startup?” for the next generation of hunters to learn from the legendary brothers.

So maybe they spent more time at home than on the road, but home suited them. Routine suited them like Castiel never could have predicted it would. It wasn’t a white picket fence, but it wasn’t a lonely highway either. Dean would joke about how “boring” they’d become, but Castiel reveled in the repetition. The three hundredth time Dean brought Castiel coffee in bed was just as lovely as the third. The five hundredth time Castiel cooked dinner passed without fanfare, though Dean hugging him from behind, chin hooked over Castiel’s shoulder as he whisked, felt like fanfare enough. The one thousandth kiss they shared was in their bed, lazily breathing each other in as the first beams of sunlight shone through the window after a week of straight rain. Home, a thing he and Dean had never known in their youth, held the majority of their most precious, most banal memories. But still, Castiel always looked forward to those moments speeding down a desert highway when Dean would reach for his hand, turn his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and smile.

Time took its time with them.

It seemed the opposite with Sam’s children, who grew up faster than Castiel could keep track of. And as they grew from waddling toddlers to full-fledged human beings, Castiel was fascinated, enamored, but Dean was simply proud. He attended their tournaments, their decathlons. He went to their graduations, weddings, barbecues, and Castiel went with him. They took the kids to concerts and movies, parks and shooting ranges, and Castiel never got tired of the smile on Dean’s face when they threw their small arms around Dean’s neck and called him their “Cool Uncle.” “Hear that, Cas? That means you’re the No Fun Uncle. The No-Funcle.”

And as the crowned Cool Uncle, he teased Sam mercilessly about his minivan and his “#1 Dad” mugs, but Castiel knew how proud Dean was of him too. How glad he was that Sam got the future he wanted, and how grateful he was that that future included him.

The brothers still fought. They still bickered, pranked, and glowered. Sam complained that Dean let his kids use power tools too young when they visited, and Dean complained that Sam’s kids were too old to have never heard “Stairway to Heaven.” The usual, the routine, many times over. But they never lied to each other, at least not about the important things, not anymore. And Castiel was welcome in Sam and Eileen’s house and lives, an honor he felt he didn’t deserve, but as Dean said, maybe it wasn’t about deserving.

It was Eileen who noticed Castiel first as he entered the hospital room the day he'd been informed that Sam Winchester was finally coming home. He didn't have to tell Eileen; she saw it on Castiel's face. They’d already spoken, he’d prepared her for the eventuality a few days prior. Eileen smiled, looking back at her husband, teasing him lightly, but Castiel knew she was holding back on her usual snark because Sam looked, well, tired. Turning away from Sam, Eileen signed, “Are you here for him?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, but someone will be here soon.” 

“You mean they haven’t given you reaper duty yet?” Sam joked from his horizontal position, speaking and signing with his usual quick wit, but not with his usual articulation. Castiel had seen him argue with Dean for fifty years like it was his job, he was accustomed to the precision with which Sam had always wielded his words. Not today.

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it,” Castiel stepped closer so that Sam wouldn’t have to crane his head, “I’m not very persuasive.”

“No kidding,” Sam shakily clasped Castiel’s hand and grinned. “I’m surprised Dean even went with you.”

“It took less persuading than you’d think.”

“How is he?” Eileen asked, but she was smiling, so she knew the answer.

“He’s good,” Castiel smiled back, “Getting what he deserves.”

Sam smirked, but his head sunk back into his pillow as if relieved. “And I bet he’s complaining about it non-stop. Asshole never knew how to take a vacation.”

“Neither do you,” Eileen levelled her husband with a fond look.

“We’ve taken vacations!”

“You always wanted to go somewhere exotic and then you’d just end up in the library. Remember Berlin?”

“They had… well I wasn’t going to find those editions in America, and-”

Sam and Eileen bickered for a bit, and Castiel did end up backing Eileen’s points more often than not, so eventually Sam recognized that he was outnumbered on this particular case.

Castiel bid his goodbyes just in time as the nurse entered the room to check Sam’s vitals. Her tone was cheerful, but Castiel could tell that she too knew what was coming. 

“Well… I’ll see you soon, buddy, huh?” Sam smiled at Castiel as confidently as he could muster for Eileen’s sake, but Castiel knew behind those laugh lines Sam wasn’t so sure of himself. Castiel supposed that worry wasn’t to be unexpected from a chosen one of Hell, Lucifer's vessel, the boy Castiel had once called an “abomination.”

But Castiel smiled, giving Sam’s shoulder one last firm squeeze. “You will.”

  When Dean died, at the ripe old age of 85, he knew what to expect.

He’d visited heaven before. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Not an exciting place, but exciting wasn’t necessarily good. Hell had been exciting, and he was in no hurry to return there. Purgatory had been exciting in a different way, years later he swore the stench still lingered on his skin. Sometimes, when he would lose himself in his “senior moments,” he thought he was back in that bloody in between. Or back in hell. Or had gone to heaven. “Times and places are difficult to navigate when your brain’s turning into gummy worms,” he told Cas once. He didn’t remember saying this a few hours later, but that didn’t make it any less true.

His brain was sure full of them gummy worms now as he clung to his body and to his life. He wasn’t completely sure where he was. Bobby’s? The bunker? His childhood home? Sammy had come to see him earlier, at least the kid had looked like Sammy… No, fuck, that was his grand-nephew, Cas had reminded him of that. Sam, his brother Sam, was in the next room. That's right, he’d told the asshole to give him some space, stop smothering him. He sort of wished he was here now though. And Cas, Cas was here, he knew that, but only because the angel was right in front of him. Cas, his friend, was holding Dean’s hand, talking about what their grand-nieces and nephews were doing in school. Dean could swear he already knew these things, but they still sounded new when Cas said them.

Dean looked over at him, and Cas was smiling.

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. Cas helped him swallow some cool water. Dean cleared his throat, “Bet you’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

Castiel cocked his head, the smile fading. Fifty some odd years and he still had that same confused look. “Waiting for what?”

“Me to beef it, finally. I know this hasn’t been easy, watching me… seeing me like…” Dean took a shallow breath. “No matter where I go next, at least I won’t be a senile senior citizen.”

“Dean,” Cas said, rubbing the back of Dean’s liver spot-covered hand, “Please listen to me very carefully.”

“Got my hearing aids in, go ahead,” Dean joked.

Cas smiled softly again. “It has been the greatest privilege of my life, my existence, to watch you grow old. I feel honored that you allowed me to experience that. Time’s different for me too,” Cas kissed Dean’s hand, “Space and time were never precious to me, not in the stretch of infinity. Not until you. Not until I was able to see you live your life and live it well.”

Tears welled in the corners of Dean’s eyes. He furiously tried to blink them away, but Cas was already there, dabbing carefully with a handkerchief. “I’m… I’m scared, Cas. I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve seen it all. I’ve beefed it a few times already. But maybe that’s why I’m scared? Because… I know what comes next. What could come next. And this is it, right? No more resets?”

Cas nodded.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. “If I don’t end up in heaven-”

“You will.”

“If I don’t, that’s fine, maybe it’s what I deserve, and that’s fair. But… will I see you again?”

“Dean,” Cas said sadly, but with his trademarked firmness, “You are going to paradise. And if for some reason, a completely incorrect and insane reason, you don’t? I dragged your soul out of the flames once, I will do it again. I would do it as many times as I needed to.”

Dean shook his head slightly, “Not fair.”

“It’s not about fair. It’s about the truth. Whether you believe it or not, ET goes home.”

Dean chuckled weakly. He was tired. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to let go so badly.

He felt the bed move as Cas climbed under the covers with him. The angel curled around him, enveloping him. Dean could swear he felt the brush of feathers cradling him and pulling him closer, but he couldn’t muster the ability to reach for them, stroke them like he used to. “Sleep, Dean. I’ll be here when you wake up. Wherever, whenever here is. That’s where I’ll be. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Swear?”

Castiel kissed his forehead. “I swear.”

  Dean opened his eyes.

The phrase, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore” popped into his head, but he suspected, greatly, that he was, in fact, in Kansas. The blowing fields of wheat tipped him off to that.

No, wait. That wasn’t a field, it was a… sandy beach. It looked kind of like that beach he and Cas had stumbled upon driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, what was it called? The one where they’d had to hike down from the lookout point? The one where after they’d trudged back up the trail, they’d sat in the car and looked out over the sea as the sun set? The one where Castiel had smiled at him and the light glinted in his blue eyes and Dean had kissed Cas for the first time ever because he just couldn’t stop himself?

Muir Beach, Dean remembered, blushing at the memory. 

But just as soon as he’d reached the end of that thought, it wasn’t the ocean anymore. It was a lake. On the lake was a pier. He’d seen that pier before, couldn’t remember exactly where though.

Then without warning, but without alarm, Dean saw someone standing on the end of the dock. A young man with light brown hair and a sweet smile Dean would recognize anywhere.

Jack waved, walking up casually, “Hey, Dean.”

Dean grinned and pulled him into a solid hug. “Jack. I missed you buddy, how have you been? Where, uh… are we in…”

Jack chucked, “I think you know where we are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know know, this could… I could be dreaming or some shit, and I guess even in a dream you could say whatever I wanted you to say, so-”

“Dean,” Jack stopped him, “This is heaven. You are in heaven.”

A relieved but small smile spread over Dean’s face. “Cool…” 

“I’m not usually here to meet people who pass on, but we weren’t going to miss your arrival.”

“We?”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around. There was Cas, beaming at him.

“Cas…” Dean reached to embrace him too, only now noticing that the hands that reached out were not as wrinkled as they’d been when he last saw them. He hugged Cas tightly, relieved more than he wanted to admit. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Cas’s hand went to Dean’s cheek, holding him in a kiss. They separated, foreheads resting against each other. Cas’s eyes twinkled, “We had an appointment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean took a step back, seeing Jack grinning out of the corner of his eye. “Is, uh… is anyone else coming? Or is this the welcoming party?”

“They’re all waiting for you,” Cas put his hand down, and as he did, it was stopped mid-air, as if resting on something solid. Dean blinked, and there was Baby, new as the day she was made, parked on a long, long road that stretched far out of sight. “Any time you’re ready,” Cas tossed something in Dean’s direction, “we can go.”

Dean caught the keys on instinct, they jingled on the simple ring. 

Any time you’re ready, we can go.

He twirled them around the end of his finger a couple times, a thought itching at his brain. Or a couple dozen thoughts.

Cas gave him a look, then turned to Jack, “Could you give us a moment?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get everything ready,” Jack blipped out. 

“Get what ready?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” he turned around to face Cas whose brows were knit in worry, bright blue eyes narrowed, “Are you okay?” Dean realized he hadn’t seen Cas clearly for a few years, not since before the cataracts. He’d never gotten completely used to that piercing gaze. 

Dean blinked. “Yeah, I… I just… I’m here. Really here.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“And… you’re here.”

Cas gave him that look like he was being patient on purpose, “Yes, Dean.”

“And… fuck,” Dean stood at sudden attention, “I left Sam down there, is he okay?”

Catching Dean's hands in his own, Cas rubbed comforting circles into Dean's skin. "Sam is fine. He was there when you left. That's why I was a little late, Eileen had only just gotten home and I didn't want to leave before she could be there beside him.

"Okay," Dean took a deep breath, concentrating on the physical contact, grounding himself in Cas’s movements, "Okay. I mean I know he's gonna be fine, he was always fine without me," Dean said, almost to himself.

"And you'll see him soon."

The abrupt return of Dean’s panicked look made Cas smile a little, shake his head, "Not that soon, Dean. Don't worry." 

"Right. Of course, yeah,” Dean looked around, down the road, the back to his car, out past the waving grain that had returned inexplicably. “Well,” Dean flashed what he thought was a very convincing smile, letting Cas’s hands go as he tossed the keys once and caught them, heading towards the car, “Time to hit the road, huh?”

"Wait,” the suspicious squint was back as Cas caught Dean’s arm, “Something else is bothering you."

Dean turned around, and the ocean was back. The ocean he’d taken a trip to see, had selfishly insisted Cas come along for the ride for.

He sighed. "I just…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “I don't know, I guess it just don't sit right that I’m… I'm gonna see Mom and Bobby and Jo and Charlie and… everyone. How am I going to look them in the face and not feel guilty that I got decades that they’ll never have? And what did I do with that time, sit on my ass? Judge local car shows? Go to freaking baseball games?"

Cas nodded slowly, simply listening. He then hopped up and sat on the hood of the Impala, shoes and all. Dean shot him an offended look.

“She’s a memory of a car, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going to dent.” He patted the spot next to him.

Dean hesitated, but under Cas’s stare, relented. When he was settled, Castiel laced their fingers together.

“I’ve been trying to convince you for all the time I’ve known you that you’re worthy. That you deserved to be saved. That you deserved to rest.” Cas looked down at their entwined hands, “I don’t think I ever really succeeded.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know you’ve been doing a thankless job ever since you carried Sam out of your burning home. Shit, even before that,” Dean cocked his head, Cas hardly ever cursed, “you were always trying to be the hero for your mother. Some people are at fault for that,” Cas’s eyebrows furrowed briefly, “but it’s human nature to be hard on ourselves and praiseworthy of others. You, in your limited experience, could not possibly know all of the things that you’ve done that have made a difference. But we’re-”

Jack suddenly blipped into existence, giving Castiel two big thumbs up, then blipped out again.

Dean turned, looking from the space Jack had stood back to Cas then back again, “What-”

Cas shook his head with a smile, “I could never tell you exactly what you’ve meant to the world. But we had a, uh, few volunteers that wanted to show you.”

“Cas, could you quit monologuing for a second and-”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw movement. The endless sea became endless plains which became endless trees, the landscape changing at a rapid rate.

Dean looked back to Cas in confusion, but he didn’t look alarmed. He gave Dean a timid smile, kissed him behind his ear, and whispered, “Just watch.”

Dean watched. For a moment, the scenery couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to be. Then, it decided not to decide. Grains of sand took the form of towering trees, a picnic table, a bench. Green lake water formed the shape of a small boy, hunched over and scribbling on the table. Lastly the wheat twirled and spun and became an all-too-familiar-looking young man wearing a jacket too big for his frame, walking over to the bench and sitting down across from the kid.

Lucas. The name came to Dean from deep in his memory, he was that quiet kid who drew Dean pictures of the ghost in the lake. The grain animated Dean’s smile as he talked, the figure of Lucas showed Dean his sketches. Their forms dissolved as the scene changed and Dean's form was pulling Lucas out of the water, the sheriff having paid his due.

The figure of Dean left, but Lucas stayed and was joined by his mother, Dean remembered her too. They embraced, and the figure of Lucas grew, changed into a young man, a husband, a father. Soon a half dozen figures were standing there, waving to Dean, and then they disappeared, melting back into water. Lucas was the last to go as he was the first to arrive. He signed a phrase to Dean, and Dean knew the words: Thank you, Dean Winchester.

Then the sand reformed into a schoolgirl, the shapes in the green water plaguing her with images of mirrors and Bloody Marys until Dean stepped in front of her, holding a mirror of grain in front of the cruel, refracted specter. It dissolved, and Dean’s form bade goodbye, but the girl remained. She grew too just like the boy did, becoming a professor, graduating with honors, writing dozens of books, and changing dozens of lives. She smiled, and waved, and dissolved as well.

The shapeshifters appeared next, the sand in the form of Sam’s friend Zach, his sister Becky, and even Dean’s false shifter form, but the true form in the too-large jacket blew them all away, leaving Becky waving goodbye. She too welcomed a family that appeared by her side, and they all looked so happy and grateful to have each other.

Again and again the scenes changed. Green waters showed the cities he had passed through, the homes that were kept from destruction, entire communities that were healed. The water formed and reformed into smiling faces and waving hands. Some of the people, Dean had known on Earth. Many of the places, Dean had remembered driving through. Most of the people and places, however, were foreign to Dean. He lost count of the number of strangers who appeared, the cities he’d never been to. He struggled to keep track as they cycled faster and faster, as numerous as the grains of sand and droplets of water they were made of. It seemed that a whole generation of people, all over the world, would-be victims of an apocalypse they never even knew was happening, knew him. Through words and cheers and song, they retold the tales of Dean and Sam Winchester, the tales they had only learned once they had passed on. 

Throughout all of this, Cas pressed his shoulder to Dean’s, his presence grounding but not distracting. Dean’s grip on Cas’s hand grew tighter and tighter. Cas did not let go. 

Eventually, the images and figures departed. The sand blew away, the waters swirled and dispersed, and the landscape made its final decision. Only a simple field of golden wheat remained, waving and rippling in the wind.

Only in that newfound silence did Dean notice he was crying. He shook his head, wiping the tears away furiously.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean turned to face him, vision blurred, Cas looking at him pleadingly. “You sacrificed so much for so many for so long. You don’t have to be strong right now. You don’t have to be strong ever again if you don’t want to. You have done enough.”

Castiel wiped an errant tear from Dean’s cheek, holding his face between his hands firmly, tenderly.

“You are, and always were, enough. Your job is done. Let. Go.”

Dean did.

Cas silently pulled Dean into his shoulder as he sobbed. Dean didn’t even know why he was crying, didn’t know what for. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was grieving. Maybe he just felt… relief. He wasn’t sure the last time he felt such relief. He wasn’t sure he ever had truly felt it.

After some time, longer than he’d like to admit, Dean sniffed, wiped one hand over his face, and raised his head. Cas was waiting for him, looking at him with care. With love.

“I, uh… I don’t gotta sign any autographs, do I?”

Cas smiled, and pulled Dean in for a kiss. They stayed like that for a bit on the hood of the car, feeling the breeze, breathing in the fresh air. Dean thought he could hear music coming from somewhere, realizing that it was the car’s radio playing softly from the cab. He knew that any time he wanted, he could hop down from the hood of his car, slide into the driver’s seat with the love of his life on the passenger’s side, and carry on his wayward way. Down the road, through the endless fields, towards the ones he had loved and lost. But not yet, not quite yet, because he had time. Maybe in the end, time was all he had ever really wanted, even if he could never allow himself to ask for it. 

Infinity stretched out in front of him like the fields of grain. It wasn’t an exciting infinity, but it was his. It was a long road, a family that waited for him, a shoulder to lean on. It was, at long last, a place to lay his weary head to rest.

[fuzzfuzzywritings]

Reunion |Dean Winchester x Mom! Reader|

Anon: Can I request Dean Winchester? X reader?. He breaks up with her a few years ago before he starts the whole hunting thing? And like? reader finds out she’s pregnant and the baby is his but never tells him, so once their son reaches 6-years-old? They run into each other when Y/n discovers something bad about her home? And later it’s all fluff-?-! Thank you!!

Note: S/n (Son’s Name). This took a lot of turns, Please forgive me if this wasn’t living to anyone’s expectations. This is like, my first time writing for Supernatural so...

The girl had embraced the smell of the bar, the liquor burning her throat and sending a very intensive taste into her mouth. Eyes roaming around as she waited for the return of her boyfriend. Dean Winchester. The two met from a bar hopping night which was eventful for them both, after a nice one night together. Dean couldn’t get enough of the girl, she was too addicting so the two became more than a hookup. They became a couple with much love and care in the world. Nothing about them would change, Y/n wanted to believe it as well as Dean did. She remembers when he explained his childhood when she finally believed him, he took pride upon it. Yet, Dean hadn’t found the courage to admit something to her, something he was hiding. 

3 weeks ago, Dean wanted to set out in search for his father, wanting to get Sam to join him. The job was far too dangerous for someone like Y/n. He didn’t wanna risk her safety, her life, her. And yet, he hadn’t told her, leaving her to believe he would be by her all the time. Poor Y/n, how clueless she was sitting at a bar waiting for him to come back some time soon. But he didn’t. His seat remained empty and her glass remained empty after each refill. 

“That’s enough for me. Thank you,” Y/n finally spoke up as she stood from her seat, grabbing her phone and wallet. 

She walked outside, nothing but the cool breeze, night sky, stars, and full moon remained. Ringing Dean again, attempting to reach his number. Each ring went by, each call remained failed. So she gave it one last attempt, finally, he picked up. 

“Hello?” he spoke. His voice coming out more quiet and bothered. 

She had taken notice in her boyfriend’s change of behavior, she took notice in the way he answered the phone. He’s always calling her pet names to make her cringe as she would laugh but the only thing she got was a simple and boring, Hello. This was nothing like her Dean but would she be so wrong for questioning him?. 

“Where are you?” she slurred slightly, the feeling of heavy liquor setting over her. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago”. 

Her voice couldn’t sound demanding and intimidating, instead. Her voice came out soft and sad, the shakiness remaining. Dean’s heart wrenched tightly at the tone she gave him. He knew he fucked up, he knew he was in the wrong. 

“I’m on my way just sit tight” he said before hanging up. Causing the girl too groan in frustration. Removing her heels from her aching feet, she sat on the steps to the bar. Allowing the breeze to hit her exposed skin, watching people enter and exit the bar. She hated it. Her and Dean would bicker but it was nothing like him to leave her alone in a bar. He was always protective over her, not allowing a drunk to put his filthy hands on her but he left her alone and stranded. She felt as if she was the issue, she couldn’t help but live in her thoughts. 

‘What if he’s fallen out of love?’

It was a common thought in her mind but her thinking was interrupted by a car pulling up. She thanked the heavens, it was Dean. He got out as he walked up to her. The sight of her being tipsy and upset bothered him, Dean wasn’t immune to seeing her so upset since they had been the happy and cheerful couple. 

“Let’s get you home” he suggested before picking her up, all she could do was lean into his touch, this is what she craved. Yet it was like he didn’t crave her, almost like he didn’t bother. He opened the door to his car, gently placing her in the passenger seat before closing it. Going to the drivers side, she leaned her head against the cold glass, her eyes roaming the somewhat blurry lights. 

“Are you leaving me?” she suddenly asked out loud. Dean stopped what he was doing, staring at her. He could tell her question was slurred but it wasn’t drunk feelings that would past by. It was her genuine concern. 

“What gave you that idea?” he asked her, had she found out so soon this was gonna happen?. She shook her head and looked at him, her eyes were cold and bitter. He stared back at her before putting his foot on the peddle, she leaned against the window again. His eyes scanning the road. 

The silence was visible, unspoken tension in the air, the bitter and all too familiar feeling circled them. “You won’t speak to me about anything when it comes to our future, I told you I wanted us to settle down, get married, You can continue the hunting job, I don’t care but I was open and honest when you asked me what I wanted, I said I wanted this relationship to be forever. So what are you not telling me?” she explained and questioned him, she was expressive about her feelings. But she knew he had more to speak about. 

“We’ll talk when we get back home” He said playing it off. She only hummed in response, her heart aching at his words. Brushing her off like she was just some child. Like her feelings didn’t matter, she felt useless to the situation. They built a home together. A nice comfortable apartment, they called it home. So where could she be going wrong?.

The two exited the car, entering the comfortable apartment that smelled like comfort lavender. The scented candles making the apartment smell fresh, the warmth of home overtaking her. As she walked to the bedroom, her eyes stopped upon a packed bag. Nothing could process, she was far too scared of reaching inside to find out what it could be. Yet she acted as if she hadn’t spotted it, walking past it, turning a blind eye. 

“Can we talk before you shower?” Dean asked. She nodded her head, as she put her phone and wallet on the bed. Walking into the living room, she sat on the couch beside him. Dean hadn’t looked too happy about this talk. 

“I...Wanna break up with you...” he said suddenly. His words processing in her mind, nothing made sense. She had so many questions but only asking a few would be the best choice for her. 

“Are you falling out of love with me?” she asked. God, she hated how desperate she sounded. All she asked was for an honest answer but Dean couldn’t reveal the truth. Not to her. 

“Yes...there’s someone else in this life for you but it’s not me...I’ve been wanting to tell you for 3 weeks now but I couldn’t find the courage, but please this is nothing against you. You know I love you” he said. 

Her eyes became glossy, shaking her head, a small and fake laugh left her mouth. 

“Love me? If you loved me, you wouldn’t be leaving me alone. You knew I wanted a life and you decided to be a selfish asshole? I’m done!. I’ve given you everything, I thought for once someone loved me! Seems you’re like all of them...a worthless bastard. I want you out of my house before I get out of the shower” her words were laced with venom. 

Dean couldn’t explain himself, all he could do was watch the girl leave and slam the bathroom door shut. He couldn’t cry in front of her, he only silently took his bag before looking back one last time. Closing the door behind him. Meanwhile, she cried in the bathroom, breaking down into a depressive scream. She wanted to just run after him but she felt so alone. She felt caved in. 

The next morning, She felt numb as if nothing in the world mattered, throwing up into the toilet as her head leaned against her head. Nothing could process her mind, had she of been sick from the liquor? she didn’t have too much. She had small shots but that’s it. Suddenly she remembered, when she had to eat something, it wouldn’t settle with her stomach, whenever she would crave something her taste, she would feel sick. She wanted to find reasons but all of it boiled down into pregnancy. 

Had she of been drinking while pregnant? she had hoped this wasn’t true. Quickly she remembered the pregnancy test her and Dean bought a few months ago. They assumed she was pregnant and bought multiple kits to find out. Thankfully she wasn’t at the time but that didn’t stop them from any sexual intercourse. So it would make sense. 

She grabbed the pink and white stick, quickly opening it before putting it to use. Her mind remained worried, nothing could be thought of except the words in her mind. ‘Please don’t be pregnant, please don’t be pregnant, please!’. 

Time passed, finally she looked at it, her hands shaking as her mind felt torn. Reading the test nothing flashed at her but those two lines. She reached for her phone, quickly scrolling down the call log. She needed to tell Dean. Once she reached his name, her mind flashed back to last night. Now she questioned if calling him would be a good idea. Sighing softly. She shook her head. Instead she clicked his contact, erasing his number. 

Dialing in a phone number, a soft voice spoke on the other end of the line. She smiled at the grateful voice of her mother. Screaming about the results, she was happy. Explaining the story while also covering up the small hint of sadness from last night’s events. Yet her mom had told her it was only right to admit to Dean. She figured that her mom was correct but she needed time. Maybe they could makeup in the process. 

-2 Weeks Later- 

With lots of thought and practice, she prepared herself to tell Dean, of course she had to find him which she did, at a bar. Of course, The two had sat in silence, it was quiet, both of their hearts ached at the sight of each other. Yet Dean wanted to keep his cool, he was going to make sure that he didn’t break, not in front of her. 

“So what brought you here?” he asked her, she cleared her throat. “It’s important,” she said. He hummed in response, waiting for her to continue. 

“After you left, I found out the next day that-” Y/n was cut off by a woman walking towards them. 

She sat on Dean’s lap, glaring at Y/n who sat across from them. She had no intentions on being there for a hang out. Which Dean had caught on when she acted odd around him, she would always order the strongest liquor she could handle but all she had was water. He also picked up on her playing with her thumbs, this came as no surprise that he could tell when something was wrong with her. He wanted to pull her in his arms and comfort her but he fought the urge. 

“Whose this?” the woman asked. Y/n gave her a gentle and fake smile, she felt uncomfortable with her sitting on his lap. She felt childish for letting this effect her since she simply was nothing more than a one night. Of course, people never change. Y/n wanted to believe he did. He leaves her and here he is, sitting down with someone else. 

“I’m Y/n-” The woman clapped her hands, interrupting Y/n from speaking. “His ex, I heard about you. Nothing surprising to see you come crawling back to what’s mine,” she spoke, she was smug about it, she was careless. Y/n could admit she was dumb to believe her and Dean would be more. She was a hookup, She was just someone he could sleep with and leave. She was nothing. Y/n wanted to do it, yet she bit her tongue, saving herself a fight. 

“You know what? I’ll be on my way,” Y/n rolled her eyes. She stood up, leaving. Dean waved at her with a smile but when she walked out, his smile left. He removed the girl from his lap, sending a glare at her. “You are nothing else, You are nothing more, Don’t ever, overstep your line and talk to her in such a way. I love her, I’m leaving,” Dean said as he grabbed his keys and Jacket. Leaving the bar, his eyes focused on her figure getting into the back of a car, there she was. Leaving again, he felt like he deserved it, he did leave her and he felt like he had to live with that forever. Yet it hurt Y/n because now he will never know...He’s gonna be a dad. 

1st month\

‘I can’t do this on my own..’

It was stressful, Eventually Y/n needed help leaving, Moving into a better and comfortable home. She came in contact with Bobby, He was happy to hear the news, He viewed Y/n like family. He cared for her, so whenever she needed anything he was there. He was the same person who helped Y/n move out of her apartment and into a home in a nice small town. He made sure she was okay and safe at all times. 

2nd month

‘I have to push through this’

Y/n despised the 2nd month of pregnancy, the feeling was all too well. Sleepless nights, she had wished she had Dean by her side or someone to comfort her on these nights and help her. But she knew she had to push through this, she was going to be alone with a child anyway.

3rd month

‘Where is he?’

Housework as a pregnant woman came with responsibilities like fixing up her sons room. She pushed through it knowing she had to do it alone. She missed having Dean but he didn’t want her. She missed his jokes and the way he would comfort her. Now he wasn’t there and she was stuck figuring out how fixing up a home worked. 

4th month

‘Home stretch’

The 4th month passed, it was no surprise that Y/n had gotten along with her neighbors. She loved it, they would always help and invite her whenever. She felt at home, The house was silent but it was home. She believed it herself. 

5th month

‘My son’

Y/n opened the gifts sent from friends, family, and given to her by her neighbors. Celebrating the baby shower rather later than usual. She thanked them, although she would get questions about the father, where he was, who he was. She didn’t answer them. She felt if he cared, he would’ve stayed. 

6th month

‘Pains’

It was no surprise the mother would find herself up at night with pains. In fact they would become so unbearable she wouldn’t sleep at all. It’s nights she wished she had him with her. Nights she wished Dean was there to assure her that she’ll be okay. 

7th month 

‘Growth’

Y/n smiled as she had grown to move past Dean, She knew she would always love him. There was no doubt about it. Yet this is what was best for her and this is what she found out would be the better judgement for them both. If she had let go.

8th month

‘Almost okay’

The death of bobby, spotting Dean again with Sam. It became hard for her, she leaned her back against the cold surface of the wall. tears streaming down her face, throwing herself and the baby into stress. She needed a way to be okay. She knew she had to be for her son. 

9th month

‘Labor’

Sweat plastered the young mother’s forehead, the baby asleep beside her in his own bed, wrapped in a beautiful blue blanket. Her eyes had felt heavy. She smiled as she looked beside her son. She named him. ‘S/n Winchester’.

-Few years later-

“So what’s the point of going to this house again?” Sam asked Dean. The two brothers had been on their way after they got some information about a home that seemed to hold some type of evil in it. “Well, you heard the old lady, She mentioned the home was owned by a mother and son? Maybe they would have some answers that could connect to this town?” Dean said. Sam only hummed in response. “Yeah but what if the mom and son were bad people?” Sam questioned. Dean rolled his eyes and turned up the radio. Ignoring Sam and his conspiracy theories. 

The brothers had soon pulled up to the home, it was a big home, no wonder the mom and son had bought the place. Dean and Sam got out of the car before walking, approaching the boy playing in the yard. “Hey, is your parents around?” Sam asked. The boy looked between them before shaking his head. “My dad left my mom before I was born, I think my mom is inside the house right now” he said. Dean nodded his head. “Can you go get her for us?” Dean asked. The young boy nodded his head as he ran inside. 

Sam chuckled before lightly slapping Dean on the shoulder. “Kid kind of looks like you,” he said. Dean shook his head. “Not at all” he denied it. Yet, He knew Sam had a point, the child did favor him in someway. Was it the nose?, The eyes?, maybe it was the lips?. He couldn’t really piece together why the boy looked like him but he decided not to think into it too much. Suddenly the door opened, Y/n froze in her spot. Her eyes widening. “Dean?” she spoke. “Y/n?”. The two stared at each other before Sam looked between them. “This is going to be...awkward”.

...

“Sorry for the wait, I had to make sure that the kitchen mess S/n made was clean” Y/n explained. She sat at the table, Dean had looked at her. “So...I’m guessing you’ve moved on?” he questioned. She rolled her eyes. “As if it’s a concern to you, you left me, can’t forget the skank at the bar” she said. Sam cleared his throat, looking over at the kid. “This is going to be very awkward” he said. S/n nodded his head. “Guys, We’re not here for this?” Sam said loudly. Yet Y/n and Dean were still bickering, ignoring Sam’s pleads. Sam sighed before looking over at the kid. “So how old are you?” he asked. S/n smiled. “I just turned 6 a few days ago” The little boy chimed. Sam chuckled and wished him a happy birthday. 

The bickering between the two were strong and it hadn’t stopped, until the lights went out. Y/n groaned in annoyance. “Again? Bring me the flashlight from upstairs” Y/n told her Son. He nodded his head and rushed upstairs, Sam and Dean looking at the silhouette of Y/n. “Why are you two looking at me? We have bad electric here?” she commented. “No. Actually, We came cause a lot of people are disappearing from your town, some found alive and some not. Everyone that lives here keeps disappearing and being found somewhere else or not being found at all...So we think your house might have something in it” Dean explained. She keeps silent before nodding her head in agreement. 

“Actually, S/n has mentioned seeing some type of Shadow at night? He said that he seen it when he was going to the bathroom. At first I thought he was crazy but he was right...there is something here...we don’t know what it is or what to do...” She frowned. Sam raised a brow before standing up. “I’ll get one of my flashlights and check outside, I’m sure there’s something outside in the back” he said. Dean and Y/n sat in silence before Dean spoke. “So the kid? He’s biologically yours?” he asked. Y/n nodded her head. “S/n was born and raised by me so far” she said wanting to avoid this topic. 

“Where’s the dad?” he asked. Y/n bit her bottom lip. “In front of me...” she trailed off. Dean stopped for a moment before pointing at himself. “Are you...are you saying...you had OUR child?” he questioned still not processing it. She hummed. “When you left, I found out the next day, I didn’t tell you until my mother convinced me, the night I met you at the bar, I went there to tell you but you had some company, so I just left without telling you...I was selfish for it, I was wrong...and I’m sorry” she apologized. Dean frowned but knowing him, he wouldn’t show the look of shock, enjoyment, or sadness on his face. 

“So you kept me in the dark? How old is he?” he asked. “6 years old” she said. Before he could say anything else, a scream from upstairs made both of the parents jump in action. They called out to him but no response, Y/n opened the door to find her son shaking in the corner of the room. The lights come back on. “S/n, Honey what happened?” she asked as she pulled him in her lap. Dean’s eyes soften before bending down. “It tried to take me” he cried. Y/n looked at Dean. “How about? you guys stay in a hotel? Let me and Sam handle this?” he asked. Y/n nodded her head. 

1 week

The mom and son had went to get breakfast every morning with Sam and Dean at a small diner in town. The group would laugh and conversate often at the diner. It didn’t take them long before they all grew close. 

2 weeks

Within week 2, Y/n explained and revealed to her son who his dad was, he was shocked but finally warmed up to the idea of it. Sam often found himself going places with his nephew. 

3 weeks

Within 3 weeks, they had finally caught on to something in Y/n’s home, planning ahead of time how things are going to go. 

. . . 

Y/n stood in her house, it was around 9 PM when the brothers decided it was best to go ahead with their plan. Of course Y/n and Dean still bickered but had to work together for the sake of a safe home for S/n. “So what’s the plan?” Y/n asked Sam. He sighed. “Well, the shadow seems attached to something in this house, Whatever was in here belongs to the soul that’s attached, So we’re gonna burn anything that could belong to them without having to get rid of the home” he explained.

Dean had looked back at his son who was standing beside him, he wanted to help them and Dean said it was dangerous. Finally though he decided to let him help but he gave him strict rules. “Let get’s started” Dean said. 

The four begin to walk around the home, searching around the area of what could belong to the soul attached to the family’s home. Everyone went their separate ways, S/n knew he wasn’t supposed to split from his father but he did exactly that. He walked over to the open attic, checking inside of it, moving his flashlight around. “So much junk” the kid mumbled. Sam walked the halls, checking every small detail. He felt like something was valued for the figure to stick around in the home. 

He pointed his flashlight at the dark figure only for it to disappear. Moving the flashlight back down the figure showed. His eyes widen as a sudden strong gust of wind knocking him back, folding the ladder to the attic. S/n’s eyes widen as he ran over, the child slammed his fist against it, screaming for help. “Hold on!” Sam yelled. Before he could stand the glass vase flew at him, hitting him in the back, Sam groaned in pain as he attempted once again to get the child. Dean and Y/n ran towards the noise. “Where’s S/n?” the mother asked. 

Sam pointed to the attic as she felt panic overtake her. “It won’t let me get him...It wants something to do with S/n” Sam explained. Dean furrowed his brows. “Get S/n, me and Sam can take it from here” he said with concern laced in his voice. S/n backed up from the attic as he noticed something coming closer, his foot hitting something, knocking it back. He begin to hiss in pain as he realized it was glass. S/n squeezed his eyes shut as his back hit the wall, shining the light. The sudden figure was gone, he knew if he had light, it couldn’t do anything. 

Y/n quickly opened the attic entrance. “S/n” She called out. Her son coming into frame as he hid all the panic in his face. His leg bleeding as he started to climb down. The figure quickly pushed S/n off the ladder, sending him to hit the wall, blood trickling down his face. His body unconscious. Y/n called out moving towards her son, only for the figure to throw her back. Her head hitting the glass vase, her eyes were in and out of focus. Sam rushed and grabbed S/n, moving him outside in the car before coming back. “We have to set this place on fire...it’s the only way we can get rid of this” Sam stated. Dean nodded in agreement.

Y/n attempted to stand as she held her head. “Fine” She said. Y/n limped as she helped Sam pour gasoline inside the home. Sam started the fire before him and Dean walked out. Y/n behind them. As she went to walk out, the door slammed shut, causing the brothers to turn back and rush towards the door. It wouldn’t budge, Y/n was dragged back against the wall, she felt helpless, like she would die this way. And she never got a chance to make things right with Dean. 

Tears filled her eyes as she sat in defeat. Dean cussed under his breath before removing his jacket. “Where are you going?” Sam asked. Dean looked back at his brother. “To get my woman” he said before going around the home. He breaks the window, wincing lightly before he climbed through. He rushed as he peeked through the flames, finding Y/n. He rushed over, she was in and out. “Y/n, don’t close your eyes yet okay? We’re gonna get you out of this” he said as he held her against him. “Dean, What are you doing? Aren’t you going to leave me to die? like you walked out of my life....you shouldn’t care” she coughed. Dean shook his head. “I did it to protect you, I didn’t wanna harm you with this lifestyle, I knew it would get worse but I realized, I do love you, Y/n I’ve been in love with you. I’ve never stopped, and I’m not stopping now” he said as tears fell down his face. 

He coughed as he picked up Y/n, rushing to the door and kicking it open. The two rushed away from the home before anything could explode. Y/n watched her home burn to the ground before her vision became black and foggy.

Y/n’s vision came into place, the machine beeping as she looked around, S/n was sleeping peacefully in his bed. His breathing seeming fine, a cast on his leg. She raised up only to be met with a worried Sam and Dean. “Y/n, are you okay?” Sam asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “If she was do you think we’d be here?” he said. Sam ignored his brother. “Is it over?” She asked. Dean nodded his head along with Sam. “It is, Sam’s been worrying over you both, it was a little annoying” Dean said causing her to let out a small laugh. “You were just crying about them” Sam exposed Dean. The two didn’t bicker any further, not wanting to disturb S/n’s rest. 

“I’ll leave you guys to talk, I’m gonna see if a doctor is available” Sam said as he got up from his spot. Walking out the door, closing it behind him. Dean placed his hand on her forehead. “You kicked ass” he chuckled. “You did too” She said. The two sat in silence a bit before Dean spoke. “So what are you going to do now?” he asked. She frowned at his question. Their home is gone, what can she do now?.  

“I’m not even sure. I don’t know what I’m gonna do” she said. Dean had cleared his throat. “I was hoping...you would accept joining me and Sam? I don’t wanna miss out on S/n’s life or yours, I actually, I wanna be with you and I’m hoping you’ll want the same” he said. Dean hadn’t ever been big on expressing his feelings or the truth. Yet Y/n loved that about him, when he would speak with her about his feelings. 

She smiled softly. “Anything for you Dean Winchester” she smiled. Dean smiled before pulling her in a kiss, S/n waking up from his rest. “Nice to see someone else awake, your mother and I have some news” Dean said as he walked over, ruffling S/n hair. 

-3 months later-

Dean sat in the drivers seat, waiting for Y/n to return, S/n and Sam had been chatting in the backseat. He tapped his hand on the wheel, playing with his ring a bit. Y/n soon walked out before she got in the car. “I got snacks cause why not” She chuckled as she handed the bag to Sam. “What was taking you so long?” Dean asked. Y/n smiled as she placed a kiss on his cheek. “No need to pressure me Mr. Winchester. You Winchester’s are impatient” she said playfully. 

Dean started the car as he looked over at Y/n. “You married me so that means you are too” He chuckled. She playfully slapped his hand as he started driving. The four of them chatting in the car. 

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Change is due

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader

Pov: Reader

Warning: Fighting, Swearing, fluff, angst, Dean being a douchebag, guilt.

Summary: What about talking instead of fighting.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/n- This is for band-pyschos 1.5 followers bingo writing challenge. This makes me sad, but whatever.

Square- "Stay with me"

Dean Winchester Master List

Main Master List

Tag list: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @wonderfulworldofwinchester @doctorlilo @hit-meup69 @fofisstilinski

The drive to the bunker was quiet. The rev of the engine. The downright scariness of the way that all I could hear was the passing of other vehicles on the road. That sound too eventually stopped as the driver back to the bunker was much longer than originally anticipated.

Dean had a temper like nobody's business. The temper of a wild dog, or maybe it was a wild bear. Regardless Dean's temper was downright scary most times. But then again most times that temper of his was never directed towards me.

Yes between miniature fights, and getting annoyed with each other fights did occur, but nothing too bad. You see, three years into hunting and now living with the famous Winchesters. I had fallen deeply for Dean Winchester.

Falling for someone is an already dangerous game, but falling in love with a Winchester. The most hunted after, hunters of them all that was a dangerous game to start playing.

I played the game regardless. Can you imagine falling for someone so much that your worlds just connect so well? Like amazing jigsaw puzzle pieces. Or maybe falling in love was like finally figuring out the correct word in a crossword puzzle.

Like Forrest says "Life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you're going to get." I would have never been able to tell you that when I was a little girl playing in my room running around in the pure white dress that I would one day grow up kill the monster that haunts this earth, and fall for the most righteous man, the fallen soldier, the best hunter I had ever met.

Could you imagine a six-year-old, coming up to their parent and saying that one day they'd fight monsters, and fall in love with the greatest monster hunter of them all. In your dreams.

Life with the Winchesters was most of the time pandemonium. Life with them was like living in the thunder dome. Like driving on the icy roads and hoping that you don't fall off the cliff. But life was calm sometimes, being able to have a half-assed normal life was good for all of us.

Sam was the best brother a person could ask for. The best friend a person could ask for. I think the moment I met the Winchesters, Dean and I were like magnets dragging each other together. Slated to be together for the rest of our lives, soul mates if you will.

This last hunt was nothing like we had ever dealt with before. So many children had been killed. I had put myself in the way, getting hurt instead of letting more children get hurt. A natural mother... or maybe just a natural instinct of a woman.

Dean, of course, was anger like normal, but usually, his anger would blow over and we'd either make-up or like the band, AC/DC says "You shook me all night long".

this night was different though. Something was off, something felt wrong. Yes, the drive was long and very fucking quiet but something in the air felt wrong. I'd like to think that I'm a tough cookie, a queen disguised as a princess.

I always think that Dean forgets that the reason he and I get along so well is that we are almost alike, in almost every way. We act the same way, love the same things, react the same way. Two peas in a pod if you will.

Dean tends to forget that when he gets angry, but comes to his sense rather quickly after, he either gets blown off, or the subject gets changed, something that he does often to Sam or me. In the situation where he knows he has no control, or where he is uncomfortable, feeling like he's being pushed into the corner.

I used to let Dean act like a douchebag. I let Dean get mad, yell, throw things, get in my face. But recently. Dean's anger has been out of this world, too much to bare, too much to handle. he almost turns into the hulk. It's like he forgets his normal manners and just wants to hulk smash literally everything around him.

How do you make someone realize what they are doing? How do you show someone how they are acting is affecting you?

Finally after what felt like days, but was really just hours of driving we pulled into the garage, the sound of the engine bouncing off of the cinderblock walls. During said drive Dean and I made eye contact once, his green ember eyes staring deep at me through the rear-view mirror. My own eyes making sure to stare at him with just the same amount of deep soul searching Dean was.

Sam steered in his sleep, the coldness of the garage and the car smell waking him from his sleep. Not a single word was said. Sam was the first one out of the car, opening the impalas back, grabbing his bags, and making a rather quick exit of the garage.

Neither of us moving from our spots. We sat in silence. A silence that's a funny word if you think about it. It the most screamed word when you're being told to be quiet. But it weighs heavy between two people.

Fighting was and has never been my style with Dean. Dean wants to yell and be an idiot then I'll let him be, but I won't go without saying my peace. I'll get up and leave if I want to. There's nothing holding me to the man, an argument is just a battle of words.

Finally, Dean moves, moves to look in the back seat. His eye passes over my figure like always. Passing by over my crisscrossed shins up to my jean-covered thighs, over my hips, up my t-shirt and flannel covered belly, up to my tall shoulders, and to my face.

The little light that was streaming into the impala's backseat. "Why?" Was all Dean said, staring at me. I chewed my lip thinking of anything to say. "Stop chewing on your lip. It's finally started to heal." Dean said.

Still, my body stuck in my crisscrossed position. I heard the creak of the impala, as I saw Dean shift from the front seat to the back seat. "I'm pretty sure that I just told you to stop doing that." He said bringing his thumb up to my lips, gently pulling down releasing my bottom lip from my teeth.

"What were you thinking?" Dean asked picking once again at the issue at hand. "I was thinking about the children," I said looking at the man next to me. It was quiet for a moment, then a heavy sigh filled the air.

"The children?" Dean said questioning me. A cocked-eyed eyebrow raised in confusion to my answer. Sometimes it's like my answer is either not good enough, or isn't the right one. "Yes, the children," I stated calmly.

"I'm getting confused here Y/n," Dean said shifting causing the smallest of creak from the old impala. "I stepped in front of the children," I said.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that but why?" He asked. This firstly is going calm, and Dean's asking questions just before assuming shit, but why does this seem odd, kinda like all of the sudden protecting the young kids isn't enough to get a few scrapes and bruises.

"Did the great Dean Winchester just ask me that?" I said now turning the tables and questioning him. "Yeah, I did." He said so cut and dry-like. "You really wanna know why?" I asked

We were still sitting in the back of his precious car. I had rested my head on the headrest, closing my eyes. Dean was just staring, it had become a bad habit of his after we got together.

"Because Dean those kids didn't deserve whatever that monster did to them. Hell, I just pulled ten kids out, you and sam pulled at ten each. Can you even imagine that, because I can. Being so scared that I can't even protect myself." I said.

Taking a deep breath in and sighing loudly.

"What are you talking about Y/n?" Dean asked, looking at me now with more intent. Wanting yearning to get to the bottom jar of worms we had so carefully opened.

"You know what ignore me, it doesn't make any difference," I said uncrossing my legs and turning to unlock the back door. I was stopped before my fingertips even grabbed onto the cold metal on the handle.

"Do you remember that promise you made me? All those years ago." Dean said, pulling me into his warm touch. His scent of bourbon and wood fell down around us. "No, I don't Dean," I said honestly confused about what I had promised.

"You promise me that whatever was on your mind you would come to me and talk about it. I know six years is a long time, but that day you promised that you've never broken that promise." Dean said while he drew small circles into my lower back.

"Tonight though right now, you're breaking that promise. You don't have to give me every single detail but just don't go walking in front of a monster because you don't know what else to do. You know that you can talk to your boyfriend right?" He said questioning me towards the end.

I only shook my head in response Dean took that as his sign to continue talking. "I just, I'm fearing that you're starting to drift away, and honestly Y/n. Honest;y Y/n I don't think I would know what to do without you." Dean said.

This is different, new, and odd. This Dean is someone who only comes out when the world is ending or the tears are about to be shed for the umpteen amount of time. This Dean, this is the Dean I fell in love with. "So make me this promise now, stay with me," Dean asked.

"Stay with you?" I asked, "Of course stay with you, I guess I just have to learn to be able to ask for help, right Dean." I said hugging him from the awkward position we had fallen into when he pulled me away from the back door.

"No more running, no more fighting alone. We do everything together now." Dean said, cupping my slightly tears stained cheek." Bumping our foreheads together in a sign of good faith you could say. I hummed and returned the favor.

Moments like this the calm, and the quiet. These were those times where I felt at home. I've realized with this job, hunting home isn't a place with four walls and a roof over your head it's about the people in your life. Make a home with the people who care about you. Make a home with the people you would fight anything to hurt, Make home able to be anywhere.

And when you can do that finally you can make home turn into love, and love into strength. Having all three makes you happier I'd like to think in the long run of things. So just "stay with me" that's all I'm asking of you, the rest we can do together.

Completed on: 05/06/2021

*Happy Throwback Thursday*

[castielific]

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story. 

Summary: 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day. 

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

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

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens. 

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles. 

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate. 

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!" 

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before. 

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east. 

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off. 

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby. 

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now. 

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone. 

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today. 

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin. 

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky. 

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet. 

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear. 

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin. 

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex? 

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze. 

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them. 

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek. 

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar. 

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint. 

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't. 

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone. 

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures. 

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck. 

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes. 

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile. 

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here. 

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled. 

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way, 

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint. 

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'. 

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this. 

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer. 

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not. 

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it. 

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough. 

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces. 

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass. 

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here. 

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey. 

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole. 

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes. 

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?" 

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal. 

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her. 

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments. 

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse. 

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely. 

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off. 

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout. 

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up. 

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand? 

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away. 

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant. 

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair. 

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face. 

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything. 

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…". 

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there. 

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash. 

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!" 

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really. 

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly. 

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?" 

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?" 

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.  

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

 "I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know. 

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile. 

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled. 

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time. 

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension. 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods. 

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day... 

You can read the rest on AO3

[iwanttobeyourwonderwoman]

I can barely breathe when you are near.

I’m just gonna say I totally loved the show. Mad love. 

And in case you haven’t figure it out yet, or watched the show to get it, I’m talking about Ginny and Georgia. 

So many important topics touched on so many feelings and oh so many love triangles.

So join me as i dissect the whole show hehe .

Alright basic plot-

Young single mom Georgia and her teenage daughter Ginny, and younger son Austin, are always on the road and have now moved across the country to the small town of Wellsbury, Massachusetts from Texas, where they encounter a whole load of quirky characters. Ginny, who never had friends, slowly starts fitting in with the popular sophomores, mainly her neighbour Maxine, who also has a twin brother Marcus while Georgia befriends their mother Ellen. The series follows their attempts and struggles of fitting in with the town, all while developing their own love triangles (square in Georgia’s case). And the best part is, the unfolding of Georgia’s dark past filled with teen mom struggles and a little bit of murder mystery as to how she has gotten to where she is now. 

Teen mom and daughter combo again? Been there done that!

Well yes, as everyone compares it to Gilmore Girls (my personal favourite show ever) here are some similarities and differences as well as other show references.

*SPOILERS!!

It does explore that close relationship that Ginny and Georgia have, but obviously the kind of bond that Rory and Lorelai had were a lot stronger and had their own personal quirks and wit. There were often rifts in G&G’s relationship caused by the secrets of Georgia’s past as well as Ginny feeling inferior to her own mother in terms of looks and her ability to be a chameleon to fit in anywhere. Rory was more focused on her grades and was comfortable just having her few friends. Ginny on the other hand wanted to be liked and wanted to fit in with her school friends and eventually becomes part of MANG and the boys. And in the case of the mothers, Lorelai focused on raising Rory and worked her way up to eventually owning her own Inn while Georgia snuck and tiptoed her way around swindling money wherever she could but all in the best intentions of her kids more than herself, desperate to give her kids the life she never had. 

Also in a way I feel like this is also similar to Jane the Virgin except of course Jane’s character is older, but if you take the standpoint of the mother-daughter relationship and love triangle(Jane/Rafael/Michael) as well as a little psychotic Murder mystery Petra vibes.

, I feel like G&G is a good mix of Gilmore and JTV.

When it comes to love interests, Ginny was stuck between boyfriend Hunter and neighbour Marcus. Sweet, innocent Hunter (my favourite character in the whole series because if you know me you’d know I’m a hopeless romantic) was pretty much Dean to Rory, while cool skater and stoner guy Marcus was Jess. And honestly I see a similar trend here where most people are Team Jess/Marcus whereas I’m team Dean/Hunter for the main fact that Dean and Hunter both treated the girls really good and I like that. 

Georgia, as I mentioned was more of in a love square than a triangle, because why the hell not right? There’s Joe, the owner of the cafe where everyone spends most of their time, then there’s Mayor Paul, who Georgia pushes her way to work for to get on his good side. And then of course, Zion, Ginny’s father. Sounds a lot like Luke, Jason and Christopher doesn’t it. I love that Joe had a more interesting and different story, where it was depicted in the flashback scene where homeless young Georgia, just found out she was pregnant at a gas station and comes out to a crowd of high schoolers, which is when she meets Joe. She says to him  “I’ll look you up if I’m ever in Wellsbury” Joe was already attracted to her as a teenager and doesn’t realise it’s the same Georgia he met years ago till the last episode whereas Georgia has known all this while. I don’t know about you but I feel like now Georgia has the funds to move to somewhere she aspired to be, where she knows her kids will get the best and where she received “a sandwich and a pair of raybans that changed my life” Also let me just add that Raymond Ablack (Joe) is INCREDIBLY HOT.

Moving on to Paul, Georgia is attracted to him but there is that underlying greed because Paul can provide her stability and security and power. And that is when she will finally feel like she has achieved wheat she needs to. Towards the end, she almost chooses Zion because of her deep affection for him as ‘her penguin’ as she refers to him as. Being with Zion also means she can let her guard down and relax a little, and obviously is a great father to Ginny and even Austin who isn’t even his biologically. Which also makes both guys equally good contenders for Georgia. 

Another thing I love about the show is MANG. Their friendship is real, it’s not just Abby and Norah accepting Ginny because of Max. Yes Abby did throw her under the bus in the beginning but they soon became really close and never singled her out after the shoplifting incident. It wasn’t a whole case of Regina George and the plastics all over again. They didn’t care that she was different. 

So I feel like Abby is a very interesting character also. I read that her character was created based on a friend of the writer. So abby puts up a very strong front when actually she is feeling quite distraught from her parents ongoing divorce as well as her own issues with body image. Abby is very petite but still is not satisfied with her body so she tapes her thighs to make them look smaller and wear tight jeans so that she can look slimmer. I the Halloween episode, Press even calls her “whale legs” and she obviously gets upset and you can see it affects her because she’s striving for such a perfect image all the time but also I feel like she has a thing for Press so that really messes her up. You can also see she does get a little jealous of Ginny and Max’s friendship but that’s mainly because she feels lonely and unheard and she ends off being estranged from Norah and Max feeling like her whole world crumbled. I really hope MANG gets to patch up. They were the ideal friend group along with the guys.

“Oppression Olympics, let’s go.”

I don’t know guys, this line really stood out to me.

Basically this is the scene in episode 8 where Ginny and Hunter argue about racism and why Ginny deserved to win that writing contest with her unique style (girl used slam poetry for goodness sake that essay was amazing!!??) But Hunter won and he is clearly the favourite of their teacher. He talks about how he is half Taiwanese and the Asian stereotypes he faces here as well as the White remarks he gets from the Asian side of his family. Ginny too says she can’t fit in because she is half Black and how this town had a very small black population and people are not sure how to look at her. I feel like touching on these topics of race was really vital to not only the show but to the actors as well. From the bts, I read that Antonia (Ginny) and Mason (Hunter) were in a room with the writer and jus spoke about the kind of remarks they have personally faced which helped develop the argument scene because it was so real and raw and quite upsetting to watch. It’s something very relatable to the audience which also just amplified that whole episode overall. 

I mentioned earlier my favourite character is Hunter. I admit I have a major crush on both the actor and the fictional character. Ok so I think Hunter was a great character, a very good boyfriend too, I mean look at the way he cared for Ginny, supported her, just that unfortunately she was more attracted to Marcus in the end but also that ugly oppression olympics fight just gave his character more depth to show that Hunter wasn’t as perfect as he seemed. I think girls watching the show deserved to see what a good guy looked like. He was smart, in a band, a very caring boyfriend, popular but not cocky. If you compare to let’s say the character if Peter Kavinsky, I think Hunter made a better boyfriend. DO i also think Kavinsky is a damn dream boat? Of course I do. but then again, I thought John Ambrose was a much better guy in the TATB series. Kavinsky was originally dating another girl before the whole fake couple thing started. Whereas going back to Hunter, he already admired Ginny from the first episode and stayed truly respectful until the end of the show. And that’s something girls should see and aspire to have.

Yes I loved the song I loved the fact that he sang it for her, I am such a hopeless romantic and I absolutely hate that poor Hunter/Mason has been getting a lot of backlash for the song/character. I’ve rewatched a lot of the Hunter/Ginny scenes multiple times just because. Hunter was a good guy. Period. 

So looking forward, I think a lot of important topics were touched in this show, slightly different from let’s say 13 Reasons Why, and I hope that they can continue to delve into those stories such as racism,self harm, body image and so on which really hit home for me. Important discussion topics, important for kids to see like oh hey this character is kinda like me, and if they are facing these issues, how can they get through it?

Also I need answers to all my questions - Where did Ginny go? How does Georgia get away with everything? Will MANG get back together? Does Abby have a deeper story to tell? Do Marcus and Ginny end up together? AND WHAT ABOUT MY POOR BBY HUNTER??? Lots of unanswered questions, lots of stories to dig deeper into, and so many secrets. I loved the mother l-daughter relationship, the same way I loved Lorelai and Rory’s relationship too.

I obviously totally enjoyed the show, I’ve recommended it to many friends and I hope they enjoy it as much as I do, and get more people on my Hunter Chen bandwagon hahahaha! Let’s hope for a season 2!!

Another super long post, finally done. I can move on to watching other shows now (and still constantly wish I too had cool stuff like Sophomore sleepover)

Hate you, kidding! Love you, mean it!

(just gonna leave these here because why not????)

[crashdevlin]

Centerfold 5- Waiting For You

Centerfold Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for Meghan who requested some fluffy A/B/O smut and then I came up with an idea and ran with it. Smut will start after the plot is established. Also, this is gonna go toward my @spnabobingo​ squares. This chapter fills my Motor Oil/Cut Grass/Gunpowder square and is rated T for Teen.

Summary: Dean heads to Vegas with Sam to crash the AVN Awards in the hopes of meeting up with Taffy Rose.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Reader

Word count: 2069

Story Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, pornography, mentions of multiple partners, Sam being a bit of a creeper asshole

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was sure it was a bad idea. There were a thousand ways it could go bad, taking his soulless little brother on a trip to Vegas. But Lisa was pretty much done with him, hadn't answered the phone since he was a vampire, Sam's loss of soul was stressing him out, and he needed a break. The fact that the AVN Awards were going to be taking place the next day was a coincidence...mostly.

"So, you're taking your soulless brother to Vegas to chase down some porn star?" Sam asked, amused. "I can think of a dozen reasons why this would be a bad idea."

Dean sighed. "Yeah. Well, we're going because Vegas is tradition, soul or no soul, and Taffy isn't just 'some porn star'. Jenna Jameson is 'some porn star'. Lisa Ann is 'some porn star'. Taffy Rose is the woman of my dreams and the future mother of my children, okay? She just doesn't know it yet. When I find her and remind her who I am, she's gonna be mine."

"Yeah. 'Cause all the porn stars wanna settle down and have a bunch of pups with some hunter they knew for a week of high school in 1996."

"'95, Sammy, and she's gonna remember me. No way I'm the only one who remembers that." Dean sighed heavily and shook his head. "I mean, I was her first! No way she forgot about me."

Sam just shrugged and pulled out his phone to distract himself. Porn awards could be fun. He could find some willing woman to sink into. It'd been a few days since he got laid, he was itching for some relief. Some tiny thing with giant fake tits would be perfect. And if there was an entire category of omega actors, maybe he could find a nice omega to fuck.

Dean got two rooms when they got the motel. He was confident he wouldn't want anything to do with whatever Sam picked up at the AVN Awards and he didn't want Sam interrupting when he managed to get Taffy, Y/n, back to his room.

Dean had trouble choosing what to wear. Plaid seemed too hunter, too redneck, too Kansas to approach a Cali-based porn star at an awards show. His FBI suits and his old Homeland Security suit both seemed to strangle him with formality. The Pink Floyd concert tee was too casual. All of his tees were. It took a while but eventually he settled on his best jeans, the ones that made his ass look awesome, and his light grey Henley. Nothing that said he was trying too hard, but also not something that made him look like a lumberjack sans the beard.

Sam was already in the Impala by the time Dean left his room. Sam was in a dark red v-neck shirt and jeans and had obviously not agonized over his wardrobe. "Took you long enough, Dean. What, were you rubbing one out so you'd last longer than five seconds when you meet up with her?"

"No!" Dean exclaimed, but he couldn't help but think that was a missed opportunity. "Shut up. Let's go."

They talked their way in, it was second nature to lie to get into places they weren’t supposed to be, and the guard really had no problem believing that the two imposing alphas were bodyguards for some of the actors.

“All right. Let’s split up. If you find Taffy, call me...then, ya know...have at it,” Dean said, gesturing to the right side of the theater before taking off to the left.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked away into the theater. There were hundreds of attractive actors mulling around and they were all wearing various revealing, shiny outfits...all of whom Sam would be willing to nail. He stopped a particularly busty redhead and smiled. “Have you seen Taffy Rose? I’m supposed to deliver a message.”

The redhead looked him up and down like she wanted to eat him and licked her lips. “Taffy’s on the mezzanine with the other omegas. They won’t let an alpha through the door. I could go get her for you,” she offered, her voice seductive.

“That would be great, actually.” Sam let his eyes run down her body. “But don’t stray too far.”

She bit her lip as she walked away on six inch high heels. She was hot as fuck, her dress tight and riding up as she walked. Sam could definitely see her wrapped around his cock. She would be fun to play with. She would be more than satisfying. She would be-

Sam’s jaw dropped a little as a small woman in a light pink crossover dress with a pink plaid skirt walked out. She had nude colored Mary Jane shoes on, natural tits...and looked so completely out of place surrounded by half-dressed, silicone-filled women that it was like a beacon of light shined on her. Sam wanted her. Dean would forgive him for having a little fun before he delivered her to him, right? And if not, Sam didn’t care.

“Hi, Sunny said you had a message for me?” she said, approaching him. Sam loved the size difference between them. Even in heels, he eclipsed her.

“Taffy, right?” Sam asked, stepping closer. He’d seen the pictures, he knew exactly who she was, but he wanted to talk to her longer, get a bit more time to scent her. She was something floral and pretty.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Sam stepped closer again and she cleared her throat. “You don’t remember me. You shouldn’t. I was, what, twelve when we met.”

“We’ve met?” she squeaked. She swallowed and took a step back. Sam could smell arousal leaking into her scent and he smirked. She was so easy. Dripping slick already. This is what an omega gets for staying unmated so long.

“Yeah. Back in Olympia. Seems like a million years ago, Y/n.” Sam stepped closer again and Y/n gasped as she backed away and her back hit the wall behind her. “Neither of us were presented back then. I didn’t realize how good you smell.”

“S-sorry, I...who are you?”

“Always knew you were pretty, though.”

She took a deep breath and put her hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away. “I don’t recognize you and you’re making me uncomfortable so if you don’t back up and say what you came to say, I’m gonna have to-”

“Sam, you soulless bastard, get away from her!” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s voice and stepped back as Dean ran up. “I told you to call me if you found her, dammit!”

Sam shrugged. “She’s hot. Had to try it.”

“Go...away,” Dean growled and Y/n shivered. He watched his brother’s large frame disappear into the crowd before he turned to the omega, his omega. “Taffy, sorry about him. He’s...got some issues right now. Mental...issues. Um...I…” His words faltered as he looked into her eyes. She was right there in front of him. “Y/n,” he whispered and she gasped.

She took a deep breath and stepped close. “Dean?”

“You remember,” he whispered, taking his own deep breath of her floral scent. There was a tinge of arousal to it and he almost whimpered.

“Of course I remember. I’ve been waiting to smell that special blend of motor oil and fresh cut grass and…” She leaned up and groaned as she sniffed at his neck. “...burning gunpowder. I’ve been waiting for you for half my life.”

“That’s what I smell like to you?” Dean asked, smiling. “And you know what burning gunpowder smells like?”

She licked her lips and let out a small giggle. “I got shot...in one of my films. They shot a blank at me, I recognized the smell immediately...so I started to hang out at the range every once in a while.”

He smiled proudly. His omega liked guns. Awesome. “I saw you in last August’s Playboy. I never thought I’d see you again and...there you were in the centerfold, lookin’ so much hotter than you did in high school. But somehow just the same. You looked, you look amazing. So beautiful and...somehow innocent.”

“I’m very good at that. It’s my signature look.”

“I don’t know how you pull it off, buck naked, but you do.”

“So...um...I…” She looked away, trying to clear her mind. “So...You saw my Playboy and had to come find me?”

Dean licked his lips and stepped closer. He wanted to touch her, grab her waist and pull her against his body, but he didn’t. Not until she was ready. “I saw your Playboy and I went home and watched every clip of every video I could find with your name. ‘Taffy Rose’, huh?”

“Well, I really like pink. Taffy, rose, they’re shades of pink.”

“I remember. I see you still favor pink clothes,” he said, gesturing at her dress. “It’s a cute dress.”

“It’d look better on your floor?” she guessed, looking up into his eyes. His cheeks burned at her words. “I’m sure it would. Your freckles still pop when you blush.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, some things never change.”

“So, your omega didn’t mind you coming to Vegas to see me?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

“No omega. No wife, no girlfriend. You?”

She giggled, setting her hand on his shoulder. “No wife or girlfriend for me either.”

“Seriously, Taffy.” His voice went soft. “You got somebody waitin’ at home for you?”

“Yeah.” She smiled as his stomach dropped, and ran her hand up his shoulder to the back of his neck. “I have a husky dog named Wolf. Real original, I know, but she was a rescue...already named.” She pulled his head down and bumped her nose against his. “No husband, no boyfriend...no alpha.” He gasped as she kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been waiting for you, Dean.”

His head went a little dizzy at her words. “Y/n.”

“Have you been waiting for me?” she whispered into his ear.

“Betas only, baby. Never had a ‘mega. Only ever wanted you,” he answered.

She smiled bright as she pulled back and looked into his eyes again. “I’ve only ever really wanted you, too. I think about you all the time, Dean. Never thought…” She looked soft and innocent as she sighed. “I’m so happy you found me.”

“Me, too.”

“I might be getting an award, so I...I can’t leave yet, but...after the show’s over...why don’t you come back to my hotel with me?” He was just about to say ‘God yes’ when she finished with, “I can show you all the things I’ve learned over the past fifteen years.” His jaw dropped, words frozen in his throat. All he could do was nod. “Good. I’ve been dreaming of this since high school. Put my number in your phone. You won’t be allowed on the mezzanine with me, so I’ll have to find you after.”

Dean pulled out his phone and entered her number as she rattled it off, immediately sending her a text so that she had his number, too. She shined as she looked down at her phone screen to see the text ‘Hey mega <3’. “God, you’re cute.” She giggled and wrapped her arm around his neck again, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

What should have been a quick kiss, anyway, because he couldn’t let her go once he had her on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She tasted just like he remembered. Her hands buried in his hair as he pushed her against the wall and licked at her tongue. She moaned as his hands moved down her back to grasp at her ass. He was panting when he pulled back. “Sorry. I...suddenly, I’m sixteen with no control of myself again.”

She giggled that laugh that he loved with all of his heart and patted his cheek. “Well, I just can’t wait to see you really lose control, Dean,” she said before spinning away from him and the wall, her skirt twirling as she headed back toward the mezzanine.

Dean sighed and watched her until she disappeared from his sight. She was so much better than he remembered. She was perfect. She was his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​ @wasabiwitteks​ @rainbowkisses31​ @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661​ @officiallyunofficialperson​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​ @gayspacenerd​ @foxyjwls007​ @ilovefanfic86​ @marvelfansworld​ @f-yeahfandoms​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @hhiggs​ @sev3nruby​  @hobby27​ @paintballkid711​ @divadinag​ @thewhiterabbit42​ @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @superfanficnatural​ @letsby​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @swinchester27​ @chalicia​ @sunnyroadtrips​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @dayasvalkyrie​ Hunter Tags - @atc74​ @sandlee44​ @spnbaby-67​ @kalesrebellion​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @hoboal87​ @stoneyggirl​ @kbl1313​ @cookiechipdough​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ @holylulusworld​ @pretty-fortune​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​ @imperiusimpala​ @supernaturalenchanted​ Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @jadesupernatural​ @stoneyggirl​ @4fareader​ @squirrelnotsam​ @lyarr24​ @akshi8278​ @pretty-fortune​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​

Centerfold Tags- @mychemicalimagines​ @moron225​ @ladyofmaidensandwine​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @roonyxx​ @teresa-67​ @vicmc624​

[hey-its-cammy]

This is No Mistake

Teaser 

Title: This is No Mistake (Teaser)

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Eventually) 

Word count: 3019

Summary: Y/N always felt out of place. Like she didn’t belong in this life. In this universe. She felt like she belonged and had a purpose somewhere else. Of course she never knew where until something bad happened and led her to her destiny. To her purpose in life.  

Chapter trigger warnings: Mentions of suicide, shitty parents, mentions of depression, mentions of low self-esteem, blood, minor character death

A/N: So I just recently thought about this and it has been on my mind recently. Maybe I can turn it into a series maybe not. This is actually one of my longest things I've ever written, positive feedback is always welcome and constructive criticism is nice as long as you are, I am always trying to improve ;) Let me know what ya think!

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

Your home life wasn’t all what you had hoped it would be, it wasn’t bad but you suppose it wasn’t good either. After years of being bossed around by your mother and all the verbal abuse from your family members, it seemed that life wasn’t turning out like you had hoped. You felt like the walls around you were your cage. How? You have always been told and kept reminding yourself that people had it worse than you, that you had it made. Your mother and father fought constantly while you grew up and still do. You remembered a time when you were younger and hoped they would make amends and it would be better, it never happened. The fighting only got worse as you grew and started to become more aware of the arguments. Pretty soon you couldn’t escape them, they always seemed to happen while you were around. You wondered if they were fighting about you, of course they were. What else would they be fighting about? It has always been you or money, past things that your mother brought up that didn’t matter now. 

Both of your parents were quite complex yet strangely simple. Your father was a toxic masculine man, tall and with dark features. He was loud when he got angry, you were constantly afraid of him hitting you but he never laid a finger on you somehow. He was simple. He liked cars, you would help him with them when you were little. He was a mechanic. Honestly they were some of your fondest memories. Even if he was constantly fighting with your mother or really verbal with the abuse he laid into you, he managed to be surprised when you seemed to magically have self-esteem issues. Honestly, heavens no. Not his child. 

He was an asshole but there were moments that he wasn’t, you held onto those for your dear life. Like the moments when you were little? The nice memories of the past. They tend to sadden you now that you are older, wishing you could return into that carefree state of mind. Growing up sucked. Bad. Even when you were younger you saw what it turned into. Both of your parents were unhappy with life. It never changed. Even if you liked your father more than your mother, you still always felt uncomfortable around him. You two rarely spoke and when you did it was a question or small talk.  

Now your mother? Ha, she was something different than your father who was actually quite laid back. No, your mother was an uptight bitch who constantly rode your ass like a pack mule. Throwing more emotional and mental issues on your back like a load, expecting you to just accept it and move on. With her it was always her way or the highway or so the saying goes, something like that. Even with small things like folding laundry, if you didn't do it her way then she would get pissed off and blame things on you that have no correlation what-so-ever. It was just sad.

You never felt like you deserved any of it. It never sat right with you. Well everything thinks their parents are shit but why you? Isn’t that what everyone thinks? 

You held onto the moments where things seemed to be so normal, family outings to the fair every year or walking around the mall. Sure there were still some bickering and banter between the two of them but nothing like the usual. It was nice, you didn’t feel like running away and hiding. Something you often did when you were at home, being in your room all day everyday until your only best friend invited you out with her. She was a nice getaway, a break from your family. Hell, when you were in your teens you’d spend weeks at a time at her house. Her parents were divorced but her mom was cool, she let you drink sometimes. You two still are best of friends, peas in a pod, creme and cookie of the oreo. 

Now Anna, your best friend since freshman year of highschool, she was a character. She was your twin flame, or so she called it. Frankly you never heard of the term before she used it and explained it to you one night, you two were at her step-dad’s house in the kitchen. You remembered it vividly. 

The blonde haired, blue eyed female was to your right while you stood at the end of the kitchen island, looking at the marbled surface. Y/E/C eyes casted down on the surface under your fingers. 

“That’s what i'm saying, we lived virtually the same lives but yet we are different in most aspects.” She said softly but with enthusiasm. 

“Hmm?” You zoned out for a moment while she went on a tangent, thinking about a place that isn’t here. You did it more often than you’d like to admit honestly. You rather be hunting with Sam and Dean. 

“Y/N, are you listening? Twin flames.” She waved a hand in front of your face to grab your attention. 

Your glossy gaze lifted and became clear to focus on your bff. “Huh?” You said again. Sad you didn’t get to finish your thoughts about your hunt in this other world. It all felt so vivid and real until you came falling back into reality. Shit blows. 

“Twin flames. That's what we are.” She repeated herself. Maybe she picked up on the blank stare you gave her but when it clicked, she explained. “It's like your twin but not.”

“Helpful.” You nodded sarcastically. 

“Y/N i'm serious! Think of tinkerbell and her sister.”

“Periwinkle.” You said before your mind even registered that you knew it, must have been the millions of times you have seen the movies. 

“Yes, they don't really look anything alike at all,” She motioned with her hands between the two of you. “They are completely different but work so well with each other like they were made for one another.”

“Like a soulmate?” 

“No, well sorta but no.” 

“Ya lost me.” You tilted your head and sent her a half smile. 

“Ugh nevermind. But you’re my twin flame.” 

Those were the good days, when you were around each other constantly. You were fluid and around each other so much that when you were out, people thought you were dating. Of course the two of you would laugh it off and give that person a run for their money on that bet or assumption. That's just how you two were. You were a tomboy and she was a lipstick, it fit. She wasn’t a lesbian, she was bisexual and so scared what you would think when she came out to you. Honestly you just laughed and said you liked boobs too, who doesn’t? They are squishy! 

She was great but you always felt like she was just using you for emotional stability sometimes. Of course that’s not a bad thing but like...constantly. You were the less emotional one and when you were, you struggled with showing them. You only cried when you were alone, it took you five years of close friendship with Anna for her to actually see you cry. Of course that just had to be when she needed you to be strong for the both of you. At least in your mind that's how it was supposed to be. She was talking about committing suicide that night and it stuck with you ever since. She grounded you when you were feeling numb. Made the dark days sunny again. She was all you had.

Weakness was never something you took kindly to at all. Probably what you got from your father, you never saw him cry. You were always told to shut up and stop being a baby when you cried, people mocked you constantly. When you were younger you were very emotional but you couldn't help it. You were young. So now that you were older, you never showed it to anyone.

Now here you were, alone in your room, sobbing. One of your patients had died on your table today, he was a nine year old mastiff and his heart was too weak to take a simple knee replacement surgery. You loved big dogs so it only made your heart heavier. You were a veterinary surgeon at a local animal hospital about two miles from your apartment complex. You had many jobs when you were younger; a waitress, bartender, maid, secretary for a human hospital and you of course volunteered at the career center to teach kids about cars when you were available. 

Teenage boys were exhausting and sometimes very sexist, thinking it was cool and would get brownie points with any girl to hit home base. That was only until Dakota showed up in your class. She was a whirlwind of hellfire and a demon in lipstick. She basically ran the small shop that you taught in and ran the boys right into the ground. 

With a flip of her apple scented hair, they would be on their knees kissing the ground she walked on. Quite empowering even for you to say the least. She looked up to you though, it was nice. You always had that motherly charm about you, always taking care for others and never yourself. It was slowly going to kill you, at least that was what Anna said. You still looked out for others though, even her so frankly how can you?

The dog though, that was hard. Having to tell the family for them to just blow up in your face and blame you for his death. That hurt worse. Low blow to yourself and sadly as these things happen, you spiral. You spiral so much until you are numb, empty and don't care about anything. 

You were broken from your thoughts when your phone rang, vibrating on the wooden table. Jesus what time was it? You knew it was late. When you picked up the phone the small clock read 2:34 AM. Who was calling you this late? None other than your bestie had the balls to call you when you should be sleeping. 

You wiped your eyes and cleared your voice, answering the call.

“Hey! Knew you'd be awake.” She said cheerfully on the other side of the line. 

You smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “Hey,” it came out as a raspy whisper, you cleared your throat and tried again. “Hi. Well you know, never sleep much anyway.” Insomnia is a bitch. You thought and placed the phone between your ear and shoulder as you shifted. You took the phone and moved it to your other ear. 

“Well don’t get comfy, i'm on my way to pick you up, mom misses you and so do I.”

You sighed. “Does anyone in your house sleep?”

“You’re awake too.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

“Right. Okay well give me some tim-”

“No need, I'm at your door.” 

You heard keys in your lock and sighed, hanging up the phone with a click. Anna walked in just as you walked out of your room in a plain grey shirt that went down to your mid thigh and boyshort underwear. 

“Sup bitch.” She greeted and you smiled, walking towards her. She hugged you and the two of you sat down on your couch in the living room. You talked about the usual ‘how's work, what have you been up to’ the same old same old small talk. It was nice to see her after a few weeks. 

She made herself comfortable on your couch while you got dressed. Going for your usual jeans, band tee and boots. Anna always thought you looked like a total badass and on some days, you felt like it. Tonight wasn't the night though. 

You threw your hair up into a messy ponytail to keep it out of your face and grabbed your things, heading out with your friend. 

“Mom is excited to see you.” She beamed. 

“I'm sure she is, haven't seen you two in a while. Not like I used to. Work has been busy.” You didn’t look at her, afraid she’d see through you.

“I don't believe that, i think you've just been busying yourself with work and using it as an excuse to not get out and socialize.” 

Of course without fail, she did. “I'm not.” You said sternly. 

“Yeah i'm sure. Y/N you need to get over him. It’s been five months.”

You held your tongue. Easy for you to say, you bat an eye at a man and they fall to your feet. You thought. People avoid me like the plague. 

“He cheated on you, you don't need to stress yourself over a man like him.”

“That is three years of my life down the drain Anna.” 

“I know it is, i just-” 

You cut her off. “You don't know. Your relationships never last longer than a few months at most.”

“Ouch.” Her face fell and she trained her eyes on the road. You turned your head to look at her and you could see tears prick her eyes. 

“Sorry. I just- people don't chase after me like they do you. I'm not that girl. I’ve never been that girl. I'm not as pre-” 

“I'd chase after you if I were a man. Hell, Y/N/N I’ve been gay for you for years!” You smiled now, the thick tension in the air fading. 

“Yeah well we both said that when we turn fifty and we aren't married, we are marrying each other.” You two always said this even after a year of being friends, it was hard for you to trust. 

Anna gave you a knowing look and smiled. “Still a promise, sexy bitch.”

You both laughed out loud and you turned up the music she was playing, a comfortability between the two of you. 

You dated Chace for three years, friends for four years before that. You couldn’t believe it when you caught him with your ex friend Maddie in your bed together. Well maybe you could, he did say once before when he was drunk that he liked her. You shrugged it off, trying to not let it get to you. Such an idiot for that. Either way it hurt, bad. Anna was there when you reached out to her, just to stay with her until you got back on your feet. Now you live in an apartment down the road from her and you couldn't feel more free. It was safe to say two were really close. You had never been so close with someone that they knew what you were thinking by your face. It was odd. You hid everything from your parents but with her? She saw right through you like you were made of clear glass. It was thick but you could still look in. One time she compared you to lion glass. It was the only thing keeping the lion away from ripping the people into shreds. Metaphor for your emotions.

Of course after spending time with Anna and her mother, you felt better. She had a habit of doing that, cheering you up. She was happy with her new boyfriend, you were happy for her. Better than her being so lonely all the time. 

Little did you know this would be the last time you got to see your best friend again. 

You woke up alongside her, your head pounding from the night of drinking. You two always shared a bed, a habit you picked up while you were young. 

You got up, your feet hitting the softness of the carpet until it felt warm and damp. Groaning you thought you just stepped in dog pee and stepped around it only to feel it again and again. “What the hell?” 

You flicked on the light only to be in horror of what was in front of you. Your eyes burned and you immediately felt sick to your stomach, running to the bathroom to throw up the contents. Your mind was just playing tricks on you, this can't be happening. What the actual hell. There were no such things as monsters or ghosts. Freaking Scooby-Doo taught you that the real monsters were people! This is like something out of the show Supernatural you thought to yourself. Gathering yourself up off the bathroom floor, taking a deep breath, a man kicked the door down. You screamed and everything faded to black. 

Supernatural. A show you were in love with. It held all the things you were so interested in, angels, demons, Heaven and Hell. All of it. Two very attractive men playing the lead roles of the characters. Sadly you never got to meet them after the show's ending, probably never will. You watched panels and things while you were at home. Wishing you were there to see them in person. Never once did you have the money to just leave to the state or country they were visiting and having a panel in. When they did come to your state, you were out of the country on a school trip. Life is just that way. 

So here you were, waking up in a dark musty room. The lamp on the bedside table seems to be your only light source right now, besides the light coming from under the door. Where the hell were you? It felt oddly familiar but you have never been here before. At least not to your waking knowledge. A light knock on the door made you jolt up, your head pounding as you sat up. Your hand came to hold it as a certain tall, long haired man entered. 

“Sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you fall, you hit your head on the floor pretty hard. You might have a concussion so take it slow.”

He was right, light hurt. Everything was hazy and slow. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times. The male started to come into view. “Jared?”

He looked at you puzzled.

“Sam?” 

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

College prompt "21.  I get stuck with a late class that doesn’t end until 9pm and I’m always anxious about walking across the campus to the dorms, so you offer to walk with me and one night, I find out that it’s in the exact opposite direction that you need to go in" + Reddie please! Thank you so much! 😊

When Eddie started his third year of college, he was sure that it was going to be the best year ever. He made a vow that summer to stop being so socially distant and go out to the clubs with his classmates. He made a deal with himself to actually try and make friends and maybe even, if he was lucky, find a boyfriend. That was until he received his schedule for the year, which included a mandatory class that finished at 9pm at night.

Having a late class wasn’t so bad in the summer, when it was still light outside and people were still walking around enjoying the daylight as much as they could. Late classes in the winter however? Not as fun. Especially not to someone like Eddie, whose dorm was all the way on the other side of campus and who was also riddled with anxiety.

Of course, he did his best to get the class changed. Surely there was another time that class was on that he could attend, but it turns out all of the other classes were full and that was also the only one running at his grade. Eddie really was screwed and as he walked out of the Dean’s building, he wiped the tears away from his eyes, sitting on the steps to calm down.

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be totally fine. Maybe- maybe Bill can come and meet you after class to walk home with you. That’s what friends are for right?” Eddie mumbled frantically to himself, trying not to fall into a panic attack. If that happened, whoever was around would look at his notebook for a contact, and find his mother's name. If anyone called her she would drag him back home so fast, muttering ‘I told you so’ all the way there.

Taking a few deep breaths, he found Bill’s number in his phone, dialling it and waiting for him to answer. When he did, Eddie explained the situation as calmly as he could, practically begging Bill to come and wait for him at 9pm when the class finishes every week. Due to it being on a Wednesday night, Bill had no issues with that and Eddie managed to calm himself down. See? All sorted.

It was all sorted for the first month into the semester. Eddie would stay at his 7pm class and at 9pm when it finished, Bill would be outside to walk him back to their dorm. It was a routine that Eddie was exceptionally grateful for, as he had no idea what he would have done otherwise. It was all fine, that is, until six weeks into his class and he received a very apologetic text message from Bill.

Eddie I’m so sorry. Something’s come up and I won’t be able to come meet you tonight. You think you’ll be okay walking home alone tonight? I’m really sorry! - Bill

The first thought that came into Eddie’s head wasn’t the thought of walking home alone, but about if Bill was okay. He was never one to bail on plans, so Eddie typed out a quick reply during their mid-lecture break.

Everything okay? - Eddie

Oh yeah, everything is fine! I just have a date that’s all! See you later. - Bill

Just like that, the worry about Bill was gone and it was replaced with the fear of having to walk across Campus alone in the dark. Slowly, he slipped out of his seat and walked up to the professor, quietly asking if he might be excused an hour early as he really didn’t want to walk home when it was pitch black outside. The professor was sympathetic, but explained that Eddie needed the credits to continue on to the next year, and the only way she could excuse him was if he was sick.

Resigning to his fate, Eddie turned around to head back to his seat, only to be stopped by a hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him back. He turned around and looked down to see who it was, his eyes landing on one of his classmates, Richie Tozier. “Hey, uh, sorry but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I actually head in the same direction as you after this class, so if you needed someone to walk you home...I’d be willing?” He smiled at Eddie, a soft and genuine smile that made him very trusting. “Only if you want to of course.”

“You- really?” Eddie asked, hope in his voice as he smiled down at Richie. “You’d really walk me home at 9pm at night? Are you sure? You don’t have to if it’s too much I completely understand.”

Richie shook his head, “I offered, didn’t I?” He let out a light laugh. “I don’t mind, honestly. I’m not about to let you walk home on your own when it clearly makes you feel anxious.” He let go of Eddie’s wrist, and immediately Eddie felt a weird feeling of loss in his stomach. “I’ll meet you at the door after class?”

Eddie nodded his head and headed back to his seat to finish the rest of the class. Once 9pm hit, the professor asked everyone to pack up and head home, and Eddie walked down the steps to where Richie was standing by the door. “I really can’t thank you enough for this,” he whispered as they headed out of the building and into the dark, brisk, night. “I’d have probably slept in the classroom tonight if it wasn’t for you.”

“The dark scares you that much?” Richie asked seriously as they fell into a light walk in the direction of Eddie’s dorm. “I mean I don’t blame you, it’s freaking terrifying sometimes, especially when there’s no street lights and you can barely see in front of you.”

Shaking his head, Eddie buried his hands into his pockets to shield them from the cold. “It’s not that, the dark I mean. It’s what lurks in the dark at night when you’re alone that worries me. You hear all the horror stories of people being kidnapped when walking home alone at night. I don’t want to become one of those stories. Anyway, people are safer in groups. I feel safer if there is someone else with me.”

Richie smiled a little, “So is that why Bill Denbrough comes to walk you home every week?” He asked, turning his head to face Eddie as they walked. Eddie nodded his head in confirmation, and Richie let out a breath. “So...he isn’t your boyfriend?”

At the mere mention of Bill being his boyfriend, Eddie came to a grounding halt, “What the fuck, oh my god, no!” He shook his head, feeling a little sick, “I’ve known Bill since we were little kids, there is- oh god absolutely not! Why would you put that thought into my head!”

“I’m sorry!” Richie raised his hands in surrender, his lips turned up into an even wider grin. “I am terrible at assuming, I’m sorry that I put that awful thought into your mind. Will you ever forgive me?” He asked, motioning for Eddie to continue to walk.

Eddie pursed his lips, falling back into line with Richie. They were almost halfway to his dorm now, and Eddie suddenly felt like he didn’t want the walk to end. Usually when he was with Bill, he couldn’t wait to get home, but when he was with Richie, he wanted it to drag out. Maybe it was because Eddie had been harbouring a secret crush for the class's comedian since they met at the end of his first year. Maybe it was also because Eddie thought that Richie might have had a crush on him too. It was that thought that made Eddie say what he said next, “You could buy me breakfast?” He asked.

Richie’s eyebrows disappeared above his hair and another smile broke out onto his face, “Eddie Kaspbrak, are you asking me to ask you on a date?” The smile had now turned into a smirk as Eddie shrugged and continued to walk. “You are! My my, I am flattered!”

“You could just have said no,” Eddie mumbled, keeping his head down, only for Richie to stop him by taking hold of his elbow.

“Hey, I didn’t say no,” Richie whispered, tilting Eddie’s head up so their eyes could meet. “Sorry- I tend to make stupid jokes when I’m nervous, and before you say anything, yes...you make me nervous.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re pretty amazing actually and I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while but...I was under the impression Denbrough was your boyfriend.”

Again, Eddie gagged at the thought and he shoved Richie back, “You- you need to stop bringing that up or I will actually barf right here on the sidewalk. Do you want that? Do you want to be responsible for me being sick all over the place where people walk?” He raised an eyebrow before laughing and starting to walk again.

“You are insufferable!” Richie called after him, jogging a little to catch up. By this point, they were basically at Eddie’s building and he came to a stop. “Is this you?” He asked, looking up at the dorm building. “Fancy, real classy dorm you have here.”

Eddie rolled his eyes a little, “Yours can’t be too different, right? Since you live close by? All the dorms in this area are the same.” He looked at Richie for confirmation, but this time it was his turn to avoid eye contact. “Richie? You- you do live around here...right?”

With a nervous chuckle, Richie lifted his eyes, “Funny story uh...my dorm is actually all the way on the other side of campus.” He smiled a little and Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. “Look don’t panic, it’s fine! I didn’t want you walking home alone and I also...really wanted to spend some time with you. Which I did by the way and I realised you are just as amazing as I knew you were. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“I- I’m not mad at you, Richie,” Eddie whispered, looking back down the path that was dark and...empty. “I just- now you have to walk all the way back by yourself. It’s not safe.”

Richie shook his head, “I’ll be fine. I’m going to walk to that road end over there, and all a cab to take me to my dorm. I had it all planned out. Now you just- head inside and I will see you tomorrow...for breakfast.” He smiled down at Eddie. “A breakfast date...if you’re interested.”

Eddie smiled softly, “Oh I’m very interested,” he whispered and pulled Richie into a hug. “Thank you...so much. You’re really amazing too.” He pulled back, a blush on his cheeks and pulled out his phone, passing it to Richie. “Put your number in, and give me your phone...I’ll put mine in too.”

Once they had exchanged numbers, Eddie smiled and  turned to head into his dorm. Eddie heard Richie’s footsteps walking away and he paused on the step before turning around. “Richie wait!” He called out, running down the steps and then the few feet over to where Richie was standing. “You forgot something.”

“Wha-” Richie started, but was cut off as Eddie pushed up on his toes, bringing their lips together in a very soft kiss. When he caught on to what was happening, Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, lifting him off the ground as he kissed him back, one hand moving from his waist to bury itself in Eddie’s hair. When they pulled back, breathing a little heavier and cheeks flushed, Richie exhaled, “Wow.”

“Goodnight Richie,” Eddie smiled, this time turning around and actually going into his dorm. Once he reached his room he closed the door, letting out a deep breath and sliding his back down the frame until he was sitting down. A squeal left his lips as he kicked his legs just a little in happiness.

Thank you, Bill!

* * * * * 

@bi-bi-richie @bovaque @derrylosers @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @girasol-eddie @halfway-happy353 @inthebreadbinwrites @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @lifesucksheres20bucks @lermanslogan @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madidraw @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @njess04 @no-she-wasnt-reddie @oldguybones @overcastedhills @pink-psychic @percejackson @purplepoisonedgem @rebecca-the-queen  @reddie-to-cryy @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie  @sedanleystanley @sloppybitchreddie @spirited-marvel @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @sunxcherries @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @violetreddie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead 

[georgemackayhey]

Rules For Falling In Love: #1

summary: In which George wants to get married. But... you're not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: Here it is I'm obsessed with this concept my dear friend thought up, so much so that I was inspired to write this multichapter fic about it all. Please let me know if I forgot to tag anyone, or if you'd like to be added to the list! And as always... feedback of any and all kinds are greatly appreciated!

w/c: 2k

Part 2 >

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Don't be a third wheel, come on now!" Dean's publicist shooed him away from where you stood next to George, counting down the seconds till the red carpet came to an end. You gave the guy a quick, twisted frown, as George's publicist pulled him further down the carpet, his hand holding on to yours, silently bringing you along.

This was just another normal Friday evening.

When the time came to flood into the award ceremony, you sighed in relief and reached for a drink from the tray of a despondent boy meant to stand right where he was for most the night.

"Don't you have any place better to be?" Dean laughed your way, thanking the waiter for the drink he swiped.

"We were going to go bowling." You shot George a look. You'd only made the plans as a joke, wondering how much shit either of you would get for ditching this stupid ceremony to go have a bit of real fun. But you'd made a promise to George long ago, to attend all these silly little Hollywood shindigs with him.

"And we will go bowling if we make it out of here alive" George declared with a nod, leading you toward the row of seats with your names on them. He hated these events almost more than you did. He insisted your presence aided to quell his anxieties these circumstances stirred up. And you couldn't tell George no, very often.

"If one of you ever did one thing without each other, I think hell would freeze over." Dean chuckled as you all settled into your seats. You looked to George again, and he looked to you and you both laughed, but Dean was probably right.

After the awards had been given out between long, sometimes painful speeches, the boy's publicists insisted they linger around the after-party for as long as they could manage. You kept your usual pace in between them, cackling over stupid old jokes and offering forced toothy grins to celebrities who asked if they could steal George away for photos and chats about the magic of acting- or whatever.

"You know, no one has even ever asked about us." You pointed out to Dean, sharing a piece of cake in the quietest corner of the party. "Showbiz people I mean. They just assumed right away. Even the times we've insisted we're only friends, they insist we're joking." You huffed a laugh.

"That's Hollywood for you, I suppose. But you've gotta admit... you and George-"

"Are just friends." You finished. Dean halted, smiling in agreeance to drop the subject, but clearly held back from stating his other points, whether they were valid or not.

After one too many sweets and drinks, George found you and informed his sister was on her way to give the two of you a lift home. You traded a few hugs with Dean, making rough plans to meet up again very soon, without all the cameras and microphones in the way.

///

"How was your date, then?" George's sister wondered as you clamored into the back of her car. George followed behind with an answer.

"It wasn't a date, it was work thinly veiled as fun."

"But you went together, which makes it a date."

"Nice try," You rose a finger, buckling in as the girl sped off toward the city streets. She'd always found sly ways to get you and George to admit there was something deeper to your connection. She'd introduce you to her friends as her brother's girlfriend. She'd address Christmas presents to the both of you, handing them out with a wink.

"I don't understand you two." She dramatically croaked now, as if your denial was her personal defeat. "You're catfishing the world!"

"We're not pretending to date." George reminded his sister, "And we're also not pretending we don't live together."

"Yeah so why aren't you dating? You do everything else together."

"We live to torment you. It's all to drive you mad" George falsely confessed.

"I wouldn't put it past you." His sibling let out a whine.

You and George shared a roll of your eyes, dulling snickers and exhausting explanations that weren't worth wading through. The midnight ride to your flat fell silent then. The night had been long, but it was a seemingly usual evening, these days.

By the time you and George shuffled up the drive, waved his sister goodnight, you were ready to forgo your usual routine and drop face-first into bed.

"I think my sister has a point," George mumbled, shutting and locking the front door.

"Hmm?" You encouraged George to go on, halfway in tune to listen, more so gearing up to head to bed after such a long evening out. George remained silent as you kicked your shoes off, and didn't speak again until he had your undivided attention.

"Let's get married," George said.

You tossed your head back in a laugh as you floated further into your shared home.

"I'm serious, y/n." George hurried along, moving to stop you from walking away, boring his sleepy eyes into yours.

"What?" You chuckled again, shaking your head, trying to keep up.

"We already live here. We've been talking about sharing a bank account. And it'll be so much easier to introduce as my wife than as 'my best friend who I live with but am not dating but go everywhere with.'"

"But that's the truth!"

"Marriage could be true! Think of how much easier life would be."

"George, how much have you had to drink?" You cackled as you pushed past him, into the kitchen for a glass of water. You clattered about the cupboards as he followed you, rambling still.

"I'm serious! We've planned out our lives together already. Future vacations, birthday parties, career deadlines, all accounted for with each other in mind. We should just get married."

"George! I will not let you lie at the altar. A wedding is for two people who want to commit every bit of their lives together for the rest of the foreseeable future."

"My plans for the weekend are always to ask you what you want to do the next. I'm your only emergency contact." George listed off these points as if they were dead giveaways.

"Okay, let's say we get married." You entertained, standing in front of George as he noshed on some deserts he'd brought home from the after-party. He raised a pretty brow, waiting for you to go on.

"Sure nothing changes at first, not really. You're already my ride to work, and I already promised to go to all those silly Hollywood parties with you. But what happens in five years when I want to move to France and you want to stay here? What happens in six months if some super hot mailman comes and sweeps me off my feet? What happens when you fall in love with some leading lady, George?"

"People get divorced all the time." He shrugged.

"That's a lot of money to blow. And for what? For a lousy label and some ugly rings?"

"So we pick out some bloody cool rings and promise to only get divorced if shit hits the fan. Neither of us can stay mad for long. Remember when I spilled wine on your great grandma's old lounge chair? I was fully prepared to be excommunicated. But you just hugged me while you cried." George chuckled, keeping his desserts close.

"Do you really wanna kiss me in front of your mother and the world and pretend that this is normal?" You tried to ask with a serious glare, but it was just too funny. You couldn't help but let out a little giggle of disbelief that this was the conversation you were having on an otherwise normal weekday evening.

"Y/n, we're practically already married."

"George I love you, but this is a stupid idea."

"I don't think it is, but I love you too. I'm taking this box of macaroons to bed, now."

"Okay goodnight you two." You laughed, pulling at the sleeves of your too-tight dress on your trek down the hall.

"Wait!" You called out, a few steps from your room. "Can you unzip this, please?" You took a few backward steps to meet where George had stalled in the hall, macaroon halfway in and out of his mouth, he balanced one hand on your shoulder and used the other to undo the zipper that hugged your spine.

"G'night!" You heard him mumble past his dessert as you gave him a wave of thanks and practically threw yourself into your nice warm bed.

///

You met George when you were kids. You grew up attending the same local festivals and schools. His acquaintance turned more familiar with each passing summer until you'd become rather inseparable. It was that fact that kept his number in your contacts when you moved to the city, and he went away to film more often.

You'd kept up lunch dates when he came back home, and celebrated holidays with his family every time they invited you to come round like they'd been doing for years. You'd even attended a few birthdays and dinner parties with his family when George was out of town, when you hadn't spoken with him in months.

You moved in with George some odd years ago, when the flat you rented threw one too many unfixable issues your way. His home was the closest to your work, and he was one of the only friends you trusted enough to reach out to for help. After occupying his guest room for a few months, George insisted you move your things into the place you'd already practically been living in.

His home was big enough, tucked away just outside of the city. It's high ceilings, warm decor and a manageable rent were easily and comfortably split between the two of you. It made sense. You'd been sharing most of your free time together for years, anyway.

You shuffled through the bright halls, past framed photos of George's family. Of you and George. There was no difference, you'd been close for so many years, your lives were complexly intertwined whether you liked it or not. Luckily, you did.

George was already in the sun-drenched kitchen when you entered, stretching into the new day.

After trading usual morning greetings you could practically hear George's silent, burning thoughts. He poured you each a cup of coffee and shot you a look you knew was meant to say much more than words could.

"Okay, what?" You asked in a warning tone, accepting the drink he placed before you at the table, before sitting in the chair at your side. You knew George had something to say, and he'd say it whether you asked him about it or not.

"My mum thinks we've been dating since Uni. You know we can't talk her out of it. If anything she'd be relieved."

Oh, he was really still hung up on this huh?

"So you wanna do this because of your mother?" You asked, watching the steam curl up from the drink between your hands.

"No. I wanna do this because being together officially would make all our being together anyway, so much easier. Bills, plans, excuses, rainy days."

You looked at George, his start blue eyes, his unkempt hair, that stupid withheld smile he got when he was focused on something. You loved him for longer than you had the patients to do the math for. You planned on loving him for a while, even when he pissed you off, you couldn't imagine struggling alongside anyone else...

"Earth to y/n."

"I'm not responding because you're starting to make sense and I don't like it." You pretended to pout. Then George went silent for a beat, his brilliant eyes searching your face.

"Do you still want to go bowling?" He pipped up as if he'd just remembered you'd said something about it a day earlier.

"Sounds fun, doesn't it?" You asked, hoping he'd join you in wasting a day having childlike fun. George bit back a grin, leaned in close to catch your eye, and said,

"If I win... we'll get married."

You wanted to curse his name through a laugh, but you very rarely could tell the man no. And you hated to admit it even to yourself, but the more you thought about it... the more you liked the idea.

"And if you win?" George mused, egging you on. But you didn't need to place bets to play.

"Let's go bowling, Mackay."

///

As you took turns knocking pins down, George brought up several valid points.

How his family adored you. How he'd drop anything to be there for you when you needed him. How you'd always talked about how scary the future seemed, but agreed it was better to face together, like always.

And you argued for a moment that maybe neither of you knew any better, how you were all each other knew since growing up.

But George pointed out that simply wasn't true. He'd traveled. Met girls, none of whom were around at all anymore. You'd dated and failed to find anyone worth keeping around. It was as if you and George were the survivors of some twisted game of life, having only managed this far because of how you relied on each other.

But you weren't on the same bowling team.

You were scoring strikes left and right a few solid points ahead in the game.

But George was close to beating you, one good turn and he'd wind up the winner.

All the while, George only stalled his passionate speeches to listen and laugh over yours. And as you considered how familiar his presence was, and the way you couldn't imagine living life any further apart, you'd made up your mind.

But every time you thought of voicing your decision, something stopped you. You bit your tongue and decided that you'd wait to see if your feelings changed soon. And after some serious thought, you could either tell George that you'd hate to let him down, but plan a movie night alongside his favorite dinner, to make up for your decline. Or you'd tell him yes, and agree to his stupidly sweet idea to get hitched. Because you couldn't tell him no.

He won the game.

But of course, George wasn't living and dying by the bet he made that coaxed you to play. And you never really agreed to it anyway. The two of you simply went on arguing on the way home, more or less about how you were on the same page, and just what to do next.

And while you made dinner together, your conversation stopped when you sucked in a big breath and spun on your heels across the room. You'd heard enough.

George raised a pale brow, sitting patiently at the table as the oven did its thing. Then he watched as you settled back to the seat across from him, placing a pad of paper and a pen down.

"If...we do this, I'm writing down rules."

George watched on, sipping tea as you scribbled away. Once you felt comfortable with the list of regulations you'd penned, you read from the marked-up note pad, one at a time.

"Okay, listen up..."

MARRIAGE RULES

one. No lying to family and friends. They get to know that this isn't conventional.

two. No lying to each other. We're only doing this to make things easier. We must remain every bit a team.

three. We must celebrate our anniversary because there's no point in not milking the chance to go on holiday.

"Now," You flipped the page to a new set of rules before George could go on smooth-talking.

DIVORCE RULES

"We can only get a divorce under dire circumstances. Which include the following..."

one. If we betray each other's morals or trust in a way that cannot be fixed or forgiven after a year's time.

two. If one of us is dying. Actively dying.

three. If one of us finds and falls in love.

"We've managed to work out all the bad shit together so far and I'm sure we can keep that up. A divorce is too much money to waste over one fight we end up resolving and remain otherwise together."

"So you'll do it?" George grinned, setting his drink to the side.

"Is this you asking me to marry you? It's very unromantic. Negative three out of ten." You laughed, George did too. But you needed to make yourself very clear.

"I'll think about it." You clarified. "You should too."

You’d tell him yes later. Because as much as it scared you... you'd already made up your mind.

───※ ·❆· ※───

taglist: @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @andux @imaginationandlove @velvetgoldsilver @queen-bunnyears @maria-josefin @dearevansamham @belledamsceno @nilletellsstories @haileymorelikestupid @loulouloueh​ @visionsofmelodrama

[astudyinfreewill]

“look what you made me do” 2/? | masterpost

aka: me making taylor swift songs about dean winchester and/or deancas bc it’s what dean himself would want

second song on deck, as promised; this one actually has quite a few cas beats in it, especially at the start, despite it having a dean vibe overall, so it should be interesting. again, bonus fanvid link at the end <3

this is me trying

i've been having a hard time adjusting i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting

ok, we start off strong with a couplet that could suit either dean or cas. “the shiniest wheels” is actually a perfectly fitting metaphor for a show that treats cars like emotional avatars of the people who drive them (i could so easily go into a digression about how the same thing happens in trc but this is the wrong post for that... how do i keep finding myself emotionally invested in car-fetishizing media while barely being a can-drive gay myself). ANYWAY, the first thing that comes to mind is the impala and how it’s pretty much synonymous with dean’s sense of self, how it gets wrecked and rebuilt over the course of the show, often tied in to his emotional state. and dean, well. he’s built up a lot of trauma over the years, but he’s also just getting older, as humans do.

on the other hand, we could also see it as a cas line - he’s not as much of a carfucker car aficionado as dean but he’s an adoptive winchester so hey, it still kinda works (rip to the pimpmobile, gone but not forgotten). what i MEAN is -- cas has been slowly falling from grace ever since season 4. he was becoming more human in season 5 already, with a grim prediction of his human future in 5x04; then lived as human for a while in season 7; then became completely human in season 9 before regaining his grace. but in season 15, again, his grace was apparently failing (boy it would be SUCH a shame if that plot point just, like... got dropped... 😐). substitute “wings” for “wheels” and you get a picture of someone who used to be this unstoppable, super-powered angel soldier that demons cowered in fear of, but has slowly become more human over time. as for “a hard time adjusting”... well, cas’ journey towards humanity has not been the easiest transition: it’s come with self-doubt, mental and physical pain, and of course, as he learned about love: heartbreak.

TL;DR: LIFE COMES AT YOU FAST AND THESE GUYS ARE TIRED.

i didn't know if you'd care if i came back; i have a lot of regrets about that

‘kay, this next part is definitely cas. cas who, as i mentioned in the previous post, just keeps leaving, whether that’s because he’s sacrificing himself or taking off on his own. and because that typically goes over like a lead balloon with dean, either because it leaves him grieving and traumatised or it plays right into his abandonment issues (or both - hello purgatory arc!), cas would be tentative about coming back. it’s also very apparent that castiel feels like the winchesters only value him for his abilities and powers (and after all, he’s been created to be a soldier), so if he feels like he’s not being helpful enough, he also tends not to feel wanted (again: dean wants him to stay, but cas wants to be asked to stay). plus, we know every time they’ve had a falling out it takes dean a bit to get over his anger (“dean, i thought i was doing the right thing”; “yeah, you always do”) so i don’t think cas takes his forgiveness for granted, especially if he has lied to him in the process (yes i’m thinking about the mixtape episode). “a lot of regrets”, indeed.

pulled the car off the road to the lookout, could've followed my fears all the way down; and maybe i don't quite know what to say, but i'm here in your doorway.

here, again, the car can easily work as a metaphor for someone’s emotional state. pulling over to take a breather, to try to assess things from a distance; and with lookout points so often being perched on steep hills, it’s easy to imagine the sense of vertigo, your own fear and self-doubt almost pushing you towards dangerous, self-destructive ideas. and we know cas doesn’t do things by halves - when he’s committed to something he believes is right, he goes all out. and yes, that has led to more than one falling out. 

but despite that - despite his worst fears telling him he should not come back to dean unless he’s “coming back with a win”, or able to protect him from harm (yes i’m thinking about the mixtape episode AGAIN), he does always come back to him. it’s the one thing that dean can always depend on, castiel finding his way back to him like dean is his true north. i’m here in your doorway; the please take me back once more is implied.

i just wanted you to know that this is me trying i just wanted you to know that this is me trying

(and dean does take him back, because however many times castiel feels that he has failed in his mission, he always comes back and tries again, tries harder, tries to make it right or do it better. and that’s something dean relates to - fucking up in the worst ways and getting beaten down but always getting back up, always starting over, always trying again. in fact, he’s kind of the one who taught cas that. and with that-- we move over to the dean portion of this.)

they told me all of my cages were mental so I got wasted like all my potential

ah, it wouldn’t be a dean pov without some good old fashioned self deprecation. “all of my cages were mental” isn’t 100% accurate in dean’s case because he has been dealt a pretty shit hand by life, but he also excels at self-sabotage. “I got wasted” is of course an allusion to his alcoholism, but then we have the clever play on words with “wasted potential”, which... hits close to home. all dean’s ever done is tried to live up to what he thought he should be, always feeling like he was falling short. never quite the favourite son, never the man his father thought he should be, not strong enough to resist hell, not the righteous sword of michael the angels expected, not good enough for the people he loves not to leave him, just not enough.

and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad i have a lot of regrets about that

...as i said above: though dean does always forgive the people he loves, it still takes him quite a bit to get over his anger at them. and when he’s angry, he lashes out, often saying things that come off cruel, things he absolutely does not mean. and this part reminds me, yet again, of dean’s painful confession in 15x09, about how he gets so angry and doesn’t know why (of course, the answer is trauma and childhood abuse; but he has no way to process that); and he tries to stop it but he can’t, and he always, always regrets it in the end.

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here

oh, dean. dean winchester with his ged and his give ‘em hell attitude. he breaks my heart. i touched on this in my previous post, but there’s something to be said for the fact that dean had to grow up so fast, he really didn’t grow at all in some ways ( “so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere”). from a young age he was shoved in a parental role, having to be both a father and mother to sam, which meant never getting to exist just for himself. which of course, in turn, means he never got to develop a healthy degree of emotional maturity. in “bad boys”, we find out that the only time dean even got close to being a normal teenager, receiving positive reinforcement by sonny and bonding with his peers, john ripped him right out of that safe haven; and by the time “after school special” is set in, he’s given up on ever getting a shot at a healthy environment, using denial as a coping mechanism by trying to pass off his and sam’s shitty, depressing lives as super edgy and cool.

pourin' out my heart to a stranger but i didn't pour the whiskey i just wanted you to know that this is me trying i just wanted you to know that this is me trying at least i'm trying

i don’t really need to explain this bit i guess, but it’s about the implications of how it can somehow be easier to open up to a complete stranger rather than someone you care about; and how for dean, who is used to frequenting seedy bars and dives, one-night stands are as much about comfort than they are about pleasure. that’s the only way he knows how to let himself be touched, seen, held -- because of course, “no chick flick moments”, and besides, we know that when he falls in love he falls hard, so it’s safer to just roll in and out of town. 

the interesting part in this context though, is that “but i didn’t pour the whiskey”, especially since we know dean, like every other winchester, tends to drown out his problems with alcohol; so him choosing to not do that, and instead just look for comfort from a stranger (whether it’s through sex or just chatting away at a bar) is, in itself, a sign of trying to do better. because if there’s one thing dean knows how to do, is trying, and trying, and trying again. in fact, as i mentioned above, it’s kinda where cas learned it too. and we know dean is a stand-in for human nature, so of course, this is also a larger discourse of how humans are flawed and imperfect but can always improve, always do better, always try harder or be more. and maybe that’s what makes a righteous man, really.

and it's hard to be at a party when i feel like an open wound it's hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you you're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town

this next part... listen. i don’t know how it fits into the narrative of trying, but what i do know is i can’t stop thinking about grieving dean. about how every time he loses cas, a little piece of him dies too, but it’s a piece that gets bigger and bigger every time, carving a hollow inside him. it’s unsightly, it’s unforgiving, it’s raw - it’s like an open wound. and as much as dean has always taken on the role of the person who puts on a brave face, makes a joke, and pushes all his feelings down, well -- it’s hard to that; it’s hard to focus on anything else when he’s missing cas like a phantom limb. “all i want is you” which is to say i’d rather have you, cursed or not; which is to say, i need you. need you badly enough to see your face everywhere after escaping purgatory, just like “a flashback in a film reel”. 

and i just wanted you to know that this is me trying  (maybe i don't quite know what to say) i just wanted you to know that this is me trying; at least i'm trying.

so, yes. dean is trying. he’s always trying, even though healing and progress are not linear or easy. and he knows he’s got anger issues, he knows he’s bad with his words, but damn it, he always shows up for the people he loves, and he tries to do better, every. damn. time. partly because he’s us, he’s all of us, he’s human perfectibility incarnate; and partly because he loves cas so damn much and maybe if he gets it right this time he’ll get to keep him -- and i don’t know which of the two options makes my heart hurt the most.

---

fanvid rec link here! it’s only for the second half of the song, so the more dean-centric one :)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

That Bad Type

Summary: The Winchesters and Millers have been the two feuding mafia families in town for as long as anyone can remember. When the reader’s father catches the eldest Winchester son snooping around, he tries to teach a reluctant reader the harder parts of mafia life. But she’s not playing game...

Pairing: Cop/Mafia!Dean x Mafia daughter!reader

Square: Enemies to Lovers (SPN Dean Bingo) & Free Space (SPN Genre Bingo)

Word Count: 13,500ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, smut (unprotected sex)

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo​ & @spngenrebingo

You watched as one of your father’s men shoved Dean Winchester forward, kicking him in the back of the knee so he’d kneel. Dean glared back at the guy, turning his attention forward when your father tsked him. Dean caught sight of you but didn’t look too long, instead looking back to the man walking in front of him.

“I ain’t scared of you,” said Dean, his shoulders jerking as he tried to get out of his restraints tying his hands behind him.

“You should be,” said your father, lifting his chin. “If your father sent you to spy on me, I’d reconsider your loyalties, Dean. It was a suicide mission.”

“Well fuck off,” said Dean, wrinkling his nose as he stared at the ground. “Enough with the foreplay. You want to kill me, then do it.”

“I have John Winchester’s oldest son, heir to take over the family business. No, no. You’re far too valuable. Your father’s business is now my business and in exchange, I’ll let you live,” he said. “Uncomfortably.”

“He’ll be pissed. Just kill me and save him the trouble,” said Dean. Your father chuckled and grabbed Dean by the chin, Dean tilting his head up.

“You’re a brave boy and you got a mouth on you, I’ll give you that,” said your father. “But we both know your father loves his family more than his business. So nice to have caught you so young. You’ll keep him in line for the next few decades.”

“Decades?” said Dean, eyes showing the first bit of fear. “You’re not keeping-”

“Oh, yes. The Millers are keeping their new pet for a very long time, Dean. Get used to it.”

“Dad,” you said, knocking on the door to his office later that night. He gave you a smile from his desk, waving you inside.

“How was your date, sweetie?” he asked.

“Nice. Gary’s more of a friend though I think,” you said. “I wanted to talk to you about the ‘training’ and what I saw earlier.”

“The Winchester boy,” he said, smile falling away. “Yes, I wanted to discuss that as well.”

“Dad...he’s a cop,” you said. “You...you kidnapped a cop. Like what-”

“And his father just so happens to be the other big mafia boss in our town. I don’t care what the boy does for a living, he’s useful,” he said.

“How old is he,” you said.

“He’s your age,” he said. “Why?”

“So he’s like in his twenties and you just told him he’s going to spend the rest of his life in some hole in the ground,” you said. “Like what the fuck, dad?”

“I told you that there are hard choices when it comes to this business. You understand the books, you understand the business side very well. But that is only one side, sweetie. If you don’t have their fear, you have nothing,” he said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“It means it’s time for you to learn the side of the business your mother wanted kept from you. Let’s go pay, Dean a visit.”

You grumbled as you went down to the basement and to a door at the end of the hallway. Your father undid the combination on the keypad, Dean laying on a mattress on the floor, his hands still tied behind him.

“Mr. Winchester,” said your dad, Dean rolling his eyes as he looked over at the two of you.

“Sorry. Didn’t order a stripper,” he said.

“That’s my daughter,” he said.

“Must have got her looks from her mother,” scoffed Dean. You had to bite back a smirk, Dean smiling when he saw your face. “She thought it was funny.”

“Y/N. I want to know how Dean got on our property. There is a leak somewhere and you’re the only person I trust at the moment so if you could get the information, I’d appreciate it sweetie,” he said. He nodded over to a cabinet and unlocked it, the inside filled with things that made your stomach churn.

“Dad,” you said.

“Try not to kill him. You have to start somewhere after all,” he said. He left the room and closed the door after you, Dean sat up on the mattress, trying his best to roll his shoulders.

“Listen. I’m getting the vibe you don’t want to do this just as much as I don’t want you to so just don’t, okay?” he asked.

“You don’t know my father very well,” you said, going to the cabinet and picking up a long rod with a button. You pressed it and saw the one end light up. You jumped and dropped it, looking back at Dean.

“I’m a police officer. Think about what you’re doing,” he said. You picked up the rod and put it back in the cabinet, grabbing a very sharp looking knife instead. “Don’t. I know how hard it is to go against your dad when he’s a mafia boss. Trust me, I get it. But if your dad actually cares about you, he won’t force you into this life. Mine didn’t. Just don’t do something you’ll regret.”

You walked over to him with the knife in hand, kneeling down in front of him.

“I’m Y/N,” you said.

“I know,” said Dean.

“He’ll be livid if I don’t do this you know,” you said. Dean closed his eyes and opened them slowly, giving you a nod.

“Do what you got to do then,” he said.

“Headbutt me, take the knife and get yourself the hell out of here,” you whispered. He didn’t do anything but leaned back quick and smacked you hard, watching you stumble and the knife fall out of your hand. You put a hand on your head, yelping when you felt a hand on your arm yanking you to your feet shortly after, something sharp pressed against your throat. “Not what I meant.”

“Shut up,” he growled, pulling you down the hall, met with a face full of guns at the top of the stairs. “Fellas. Might want to get out of the way. Don’t want the boss’ daughter getting hurt now, do we?”

“You idiot,” you heard your father say, Dean scrambling back with you. Dean pressed the knife to your throat and you felt a cut open. You whined and tried to scramble away but Dean’s hold was too good. “Let her go and I’ll kill you quickly.”

“I walk out of here in one piece and I’ll let her go unharmed after that,” said Dean, walking back with you. “Your choice if you want her to bleed out in your front hall.”

“You’re a cop.”

“Right now, I ain’t nothing but a guy with a knife,” he said. “Let me leave with her and I’ll send her back.”

“You better,” he said. You went wide eyed, Dean pulling you outside and through the front gate, out to the street and shoving you into the drivers side of a car, no men following you out there.

“You can let me-” you said, the knife aimed back at your throat.

“We met your dad. What do you say we go see mine?” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m a cop. It don’t mean I’m not involved in the family business,” he said with a smirk. “Drive. Now.”

“I helped you,” you growled as Dean shoved you against the car door, pinning your hands behind your back and securing them with some police issue zip ties, no chance of getting out of those. He shoved the knife in his back pocket, grabbing your arm and leading you towards the front door of a home, sighing when you struggled. “Dean, let me go!”

“Just won’t shut up will you,” he mumbled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, tying it over your mouth before he went back to dragging you inside. You kicked and tried to stop him as he pulled you down a hall and set you down in a chair across from a table, an older man looking up from some papers on the other side. “Y/N Miller. Merry Christmas.”

The man looked at you and back at Dean, rolling his eyes.

“Why is she crying?” he asked. “And why...forget it. Untie her and go get a bandage for her neck and head.”

“Dad, she-”

“She is Frank Miller’s daughter. I think she knows there are plenty of armed men around here for her not to go running off, hm?” he said. You nodded and felt the handkerchief get tugged out of your mouth, Dean snipping through your ties before he left the room and shut the door after himself. “Excuse Dean. This isn’t typical behavior for him.”

“He was...my father caught him on our property. I helped Dean escape,” you said.

“Why?” asked John.

“He wanted me to question Dean for information. He wanted to use Dean as leverage to keep you in line for a long time. I...fixing the books is one thing but I’m not doing this stuff. It’s wrong,” you said.

He nodded, Dean re-entering the room and setting a bottle of alcohol and some wipes down on the table. You wiped off your neck and dabbed your head, both of them watching you.

“Did she save you?” asked John. Dean pursed his lips but nodded eventually. “Do you think she’s playing you?”

“I think daddy’s little girl don’t like the tough side of being in the mafia,” he said.

“Is that true, Y/N?” asked John.

“Can I please leave?” you asked.

“The fair thing would be to do to you what your father was planning to do to Dean,” he said. Your face fell, turning to Dean.

“Let her go,” said Dean after a moment. John raised an eyebrow as you felt Dean walk around behind you. “She saved me. I save her. We’re even.”

“After she tells us more about her father’s next shipment,” he said.

“I don’t know that kind of-” you said, John standing suddenly, walking around the desk. He leaned down in your face, your gaze going up to Dean when John grabbed your chin.

“He’s not in charge. I am,” he said. “Where’s the next shipment?”

“I honestly don’t know,” you said. John dropped his hand away, walking behind his desk and hitting a button. Two armed men appeared, both of them grabbing you. “I don’t know anything about shipments. I don’t know that stuff yet. I’m still learning, I swear.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I learn something, kiddo,” said John. You looked to Dean but were tugged out of the room quickly, restrained and led down to a basement, this one finished. They put you in a mostly empty room, not doing anything but sitting you down in a chair and pulling the door shut after themselves.

“Well shit.”

You lifted your head up when you heard the door, Dean walking in and closing it behind himself. He crossed his arms and leaned back against it, taking a deep breath.

“I tried to talk to my dad. He wants some good info before he’ll let you go. No one will lay a hand on you. You’ll just sit in here until that happens,” said Dean.

“I don’t know anything,” you said, licking your lips. “Can I have some water at least?”

“Like I said...you just sit in here until he gets what he wants,” said Dean.

“You might as well kill me then, save my dad the trouble,” you said, closing your eyes and tucking your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know when the next stupid shipment is. I don’t know anything about the fucking shipments.”

“What do you know? You got to know something,” said Dean.

“I know how to fix books. Kinda,” you said.

“You know your father’s accounts?” he asked. You shook your head.

“No. We used fake ones for me to learn on. I...he only just started training me on the actual mafia stuff. I know nothing,” you said. “I used to go to college and be normal.”

“You’ve never even broken a law I bet,” said Dean with a laugh and shake of his head. “Shit. How the hell did you stay out of this crap?”

“My mom didn’t want me involved. It worked too until she was gone,” you said, looking up through your eyelashes. “I’m guessing you guys already know how to do that stuff?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. He reached behind his back and pulled out a pair of zip ties and a gun, handing them to you. “It’s not loaded.”

“What is this?” you asked.

Dean held out his hands, giving you a half smile.

“My dad won’t believe you. Looks like I got to get kidnapped for the second time today.”

You stared at him and grabbed his wrists, tying them together before you picked up the gun. He chuckled when you looked it over.

“Sweetheart. You sort of have to point it at me for this to work,” he said.

“I know that,” you said, holding it up and moving it away, your stomach churning.

“It’s not loaded. You can’t actually shoot me, even if you tried,” he said.

“I know,” you said, putting your hands on your knees, your pulse racing.

“Y/N. Come on,” said Dean. You nodded but felt your vision start to fade away and you hit the ground hard.

“Hey,” said Dean, a wet washcloth on your head as you woke up on the couch in John’s office. He was staring at you, biting his bottom lip. “We think you had a panic attack.”

“Probably,” you said. “I don’t like guns.”

“She’s a pup. She doesn’t know anything,” said John, sighing as he stood and walked over to you. “We all got that one get out of jail free card up our sleeves though, don’t we, Y/N. You got something in case of an emergency situation, right?”

“Dad. Stop,” said Dean, moving the washcloth away. “She doesn’t know anything.”

“She knows something,” said John. Dean shook his head and grabbed your arm, yanking you to your feet. “Good. Go find out-”

“No. I brought here her for a civil discussion about her family’s business. If you’re not going to do that, she walks,” said Dean.

“Excuse me?”

“They had me. She got me out. Lord knows what she’s walking back into,” said Dean, looking back at his father. “Understand? It’s a clean slate.”

“Fine,” he said. “You don’t get many free passes in this industry, kid. Use it wisely.”

Dean rolled his eyes and led you out to the front door and near the gate, dropping his arm away.

“Sorry. He must be in a bad mood today,” said Dean, nodding at you. “Thanks about this morning.”

“We’re even?” you asked.

“We’re even,” he said.

“Why were you sneaking around the house? You had to have known what a dumbass move that was,” you said.

“Wellness check. A neighbor hadn’t seen you around for a while, was scared your dad might have offed you,” he said.

“He killed my mother. He won’t kill me,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“She cheated on him I’m pretty sure. It’s what he said. I don’t blame her,” you said. “You were really just acting as a cop earlier?”

“Mostly as a cop,” he said with a smirk. You turned to go, Dean grabbing your wrist. He held out your phone, letting you put it back in your pocket. “I know we’re like mortal enemies and all that and someday our parents are expecting us to try and kill each other but I’m still a cop. Your dad or any of those guys every does something you don’t like, call my number. I’ll come help.”

“Why would you do that?” you asked.

“Sort of my day job, sweetheart,” he said, smiling as he headed back for the house.

“What’s your night job?” you called.

“A little of this, a little of that,” he said. “Take it easy, Miller.”

“Winchester.”

“I do not appreciate being treated like a criminal,” you said, storming into your father’s office late that night. He was sat on his couch and watching the flames going in the fireplace, seeming to ignore you. You felt a hand on your arm and glared backwards. “Anthony. Get your damn hands off of me before I take away your ability to have children.”

He only moved back when your father nodded but didn’t leave the room.

“What the fuck was that having Mikey interrogate me for the past two hours?” you barked at him.

“He didn’t interrogate you. You’d know the difference,” he said.

“Well it creeped me out,” you said. Your father rolled his eyes. “It did.”

“You love your Uncle Mikey,” he said.

“Maybe when I was a kid and didn’t know better. He’s a bad guy,” you said. You heard someone enter the room, Mikey walking in with a blank face. “Speak of the devil.”

“Anthony, take a break,” he said. The younger man left, Mikey shutting the door after him. “I talked to her.”

“She make a mistake or she let him go?” he asked.

“Oh come on,” you groaned. Mikey stared at you, clenching his jaw.

“Well?” asked your father.

“I don’t think you should be letting little girls do my sort of business,” he said. “Too dangerous for them and for us.”

You stared at him, Mikey lifting his chin.

“We got boys in the group that will rise up with time. Let her stick to the business side. Don’t have the girl do the actual stuff,” he said.

“I don’t want her to do that sort of thing. Not really. I want to know she has the stomach for giving those kinds of orders though,” said your father. “Learn by doing.”

“Frank,” said Mikey. You watched the two of them, your dad turning his gaze to you. “She got kidnapped today. You wanted her toughened up. She’s toughened up. She is your daughter and I think maybe she would like her father to show some concern.”

“Watch it,” said your dad. He stood and walk over to you, tapping under your chin so you’d show your throat. You turned away and crossed your arms, his finger tracing over your neck. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“It’s fine,” you said. He dropped his hand, tilting your cheek. “I said I’m fine.”

“Perhaps Mikey is right. Under the right circumstances I know you’re capable of anything. Let the boys do their jobs and you do theirs. It’s not fair to expect you do both,” he said.

“I wanted to be a veterinarian,” you grumbled, brushing past him for the door, turning around when you got there. “And if another single man in this house touches me again without my explicit permission, you will all find out exactly what I am capable of.”

You slammed the door shut after you left, Anthony avoiding eye contact as you went down the hall and up to your room.

“Assholes.”

You growled at the knock at your door the next door, a pair of hands being held up as the door opened, Mikey stepping in with a smile.

“I come in peace,” he said.

“Go away,” you said, clenching your fists.

“Let’s take a walk. I’ll go buy you some ice cream,” he said.

“I’m not five anymore,” you said.

“Come on. It’s a nice day. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“What do you want?” you asked, mouth full of an ice cream sandwich. Mikey wolfed down his ice cream cone, nodding for the two of you to head into the park. “Mikey.”

He smiled as you got away from some other people, Mikey looking around.

“Do I creep you out?” he asked.

“Since yesterday afternoon, yes. You freaking brought me down to the basement and-“

“I know. I was meaner than I wanted to be but your father was watching. I’m sorry. You’ve had a long few days,” he said.

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled, munching on a piece of sandwich.

“Kiddo,” he said, bumping your shoulder. “I know you didn’t want to do that, to the Winchester boy. I know you helped him escape too.”

You took another bite and shrugged.

“I was the one that taught you that little trick,” he said with a smile. “It’s alright. I’m not mad. Your father wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“How so,” you said.

“First off, there’s an unspoken rule of the families to leave the kids out of it. Then there’s the fact Dean’s involvement in everything is minimal at best. He knows how to play both sides. Then asking you to hurt the boy...your mother would have thrown a fit. You’re too good for that side of it,” he said.

“I’m in the mafia. I’m not too good for anything,” you said, popping the last piece in your mouth.

“You’re the daughter of a mafia boss. It’s different than being in the mafia,” he said. “Your mother made sure of that.”

“Did dad kill mom?” you asked. “She was your sister.”

“It was an accident not meant for her. I was livid with him. It was sloppy and he very well could have killed you too that day,” he said.

“I remember. You’re the one that drove me back to college that summer,” you said.

“He’s gotten harder the past few years,” he said. “The old him wouldn’t have asked you to hurt someone.”

“He always wanted a boy,” you said, stopping when you got to the pond. “Why didn’t you tell him I helped Dean Winchester if you suspected?”

“I know I’m not as outwardly affectionate as family should be but I do love you,” he said, looking out at the water. “My loyalty is to family, not business.”

“Sorry I called you creepy,” you said.

“S’okay. Been called much worse before,” he said, turning around. “Don’t do something like that again. The boy could have not been as kind as he was.”

“Don’t tell me what to do Mikey,” you said. He smiled, nodding his head. “He’s a nice guy you know. He had me. He’s the one that got me out of there.”

“Be careful, Y/N. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Where are you going?” asked your dad as you pulled on your shoes later that evening.

“I have a date,” you said.

“I thought the date the other night went poorly,” he said.

“It’s a different guy,” you said. “And I didn’t say the other night was bad. He was nice. I just didn’t feel a connection with him. Maybe try listening instead of talking for once.”

“Watch the mouth,” he said. You stood up and fixed your hair, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Next time I’ll ask the guy to kill me, do you a favor,” you said.

“Y/N,” he said as you went past. You lifted your chin, giving him a glare. “What happened yesterday was my fault.”

“You never put me in situations like that again. Is that clear?” you said.

“Why are you so angry?”

“You want a tougher daughter? This is it. Fucking deal with it,” you said. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Fine. I won’t teach you that sort of thing again. Happy now?” he asked.

“Not even close. But it’s a start. Don’t wait up,” you said, walking straight out the door.

“You okay?” asked the bartender too many drinks later. You nodded, blinking a few times. “Want me to call you a ride home?”

“Uber,” you said, grabbing your phone, tapping away a few times before you held up to him. He seemed satisfied and you headed outside, trying to sober up in the cool air while you waited a few minutes.

Your date was a no show. Not that you ever shared when that happened with your dad. It’d happened the other night too. The guys got scared once they realized you were a Miller. You didn’t blame them.

You wouldn’t want to date a mafia boss’s daughter either.

You hopped onto the sidewalk, walking along the edge, tripping a little just as a cop car drove past. It pulled into an open spot, the door open being as you spun around.

“What are you doing?”

You spun back around, Dean Winchester in full uniform standing in front of you.

“Waiting for my ride home,” you said. “I won’t be driving, Officer Winchester. Pinky promise.”

“Okay...you should still wait inside the bar,” he said.

“I’m Y/N Miller. Any guy in this town stupid enough to try something with me will meet a very slow and painful…” you said, realizing that Dean was in uniform, aka cop mode. “Nobody’s gonna bother me.”

“Can I give you a lift before you wander your drunk ass straight into the street?” he asked.

Oh, there were a hundred thousand reasons not to get in that car and he knew all of them were running through your mind.

“I’m on duty. I ain’t gonna do jack shit except take a drunk girl home,” he said.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you mumbled.

“Well where are you going then?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe I’ll move to the middle of nowhere where guys aren’t terrified of me or where I don’t have a shitty dad.”

“There’s a hotel around the block. They might have a room open for you to crash in,” he said.

“You’re as bad as the rest of them,” you grumbled, walking past him. “You’re maybe even worse. You pretend to be good and you’re not. You’re just not.”

“Like you’re some kind of saint?” he asked. “You do-“

“I wanted to be a vet,” you said, pointing a finger at him.

“Okay?” he said. “Be a fucking vet then.”

“I don’t have a choice,” you said, rubbing a hand against your head.

“Yeah, you do. There’s nothing that says you can’t be a vet and the leader of the mafia if that’s what you really want,” he said. You scrunched up your face, Dean rolling his eyes. “Just get in the bar until your ride gets here, alright?”

He got back in his car and drove off without another look back.

“You’re home earlier than I was expecting,” said your dad as you walked in the kitchen. You grumbled and went to the freezer, sticking your head inside. “You’re drunk.”

“Yup,” you said, pulling out a box of mac and cheese and popping it in the microwave. He set down his book and brought over his empty wine glass, setting it down in the sink.

“Lyle saw you speaking to Dean Winchester tonight.”

“Still sending the guys to spy on me on dates?”

“He said all you did was drink at the bar and then you spoke to Dean before he drove off,” he said. “He thinks the boy may have a soft spot for you.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m only the last chick in the universe he’d be attracted to,” you said. “He was making sure I wasn’t driving home. That’s all.”

“The boy could have hurt you, taken you back to his family tonight. Twice. But he let you go. I think Mikey was right. We should be using talents you already have, not enforcing new ones on you,” he said. You heard the microwave beep off, your father smirking as it dawned on you.

You slapped him in the face, ripping the food out and stirring it up, tossing it back inside. You narrowed your eyes at him as he twitched his eye.

“You want to slut someone out, why don’t you try one of the guys. I’m sure they’d take the pay increase,” you said.

“Flirting. Teasing. A friendly relationship. Not sex. I would never ask that of you and I’m disgusted you think I would,” he said.

“Am I speaking to my father or my boss because I’m pretty sure my dad died when mom did too. You’re just my employer and as far as I’m concerned, I’m off the clock,” you said, grabbing the dish and a spoon, storming off to your bedroom to eat. You wolfed it down, burning your tongue in the process, tossing the container in the trash.

After a quick shower you found your father waiting for you on your bed.

“What-”

“I was wrong. There was always fire and ice in those veins of yours,” he said. “Your mom knew that when you got in a fight in the first grade.”

“He shouldn’t have pulled my hair,” you said, leaning against the doorway. “Cut the bullshit. Forget the fucking mafia boss crap. I’m not one of your guys. Our entire relationship for the past three years has been about me taking over the business someday. I was going to school, to college. I was going to help animals. I’m sorry but I’m never going to be the person that tortures people in the basement. I’m just not and you have to live with that.”

“Maybe you’ll find that your approach is more sublte, softer. I can live with that,” he said.

“You never even asked if I was okay when I got home yesterday,” you said. You looked down at the floor, hearing him shift around until his feet appeared before you.

“Because for a split second I thought you had sided with the Winchesters,” he said. You whipped your head up, his own shaking. “I’m sorry. He hurt you. I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll never put you in that situation again. I’m sorry for being so short with you lately. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Can I have the day off of work tomorrow,” you asked quietly. “No tails or guys following me either. I just want a little me time, away from this stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said. He gave you a hug you somewhat returned. He could feel the difference though and rubbed a hand up and down your back. “I never meant I want you to go use yourself to get close to the Winchester boy, Y/N. I only thought you could use a woman’s charm on him. It’s a powerful thing after all.”

“What do you want me to do?” you asked.

“Get friendly, see what you can find out about their operation. Dean’s going to be privy to some information others won’t,” he said. “I want to know where they’re weak. Make it your new job. It’s just a job that way. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah. I can do it.”

The next day you were smiling as you ate lunch in the park, happily soaking up the summer sun, a book by your side you were ready to dive into. It felt as though someone was watching you though and you turned your back, catching a sweaty Dean drinking from the water fountain, eyes in your direction. You stared at him and he walked over, taking a deep breath.

“I didn’t take you for the running type,” you said as you looked up. He shook his head, putting his hands on his hips.

“I fucking hate it. My brother’s running a marathon. He’s forcing me to run a 5K,” he said. “Running sucks.”

“You sure you aren’t following me?” you asked.

“Well last night you were on my patrol and I had no idea it was even you until I got out of the car. If I was following you, you wouldn’t know it, sweetheart,” he said.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you said, Dean cracking a smile. “Sorry for horribly embarrassing myself last night.”

“I’ve seen way worse. So much, much worse,” he said, shaking his head out. “The joys of the night shift.”

“You always work nights?” you asked.

“Why? Trying to figure out my schedule?” he asked.

“Trying to figure out if you’re free is all,” you said.

“I’m normally on days,” he said. “I’m free tonight.”

“So am I,” you said.

“You looking for a date or something? I sort of like living,” he said. A flash of hurt crossed your face you couldn’t hide fast enough, Dean opening his mouth. “Sorry. Last night you said-”

“I know what I said,” you swallowed, looking away. “I’m sure you understand what it’s like. Trying to date in this life.”

“Yeah,” he said. You pursed your lips, Dean clearing his throat. “So you want to do something tonight?”

“Huh?”

“We could...hang out,” he said. You opened your mouth, wanting to jump at the chance. You could start working your way in, start getting information. “So…”

“You should stay away from me,” you said. Dean frowned, taking a step back. “I...I want to. I think if the situation were different, we could be real friends. But trust me when I say you staying away from me is the best thing for you and your family. I...I don’t want to be that person.”

“Did your dad ask you to con me too?” he asked with a smile. “My dad thought you might be an in, a way to get information. He wanted me to get to know you, find out stuff.”

“I sort of hate both our dads,” you said, Dean chuckling to himself. “Why’d you tell me that?”

“Why’d you try to warn me to stay away?” he asked, taking a seat on your blanket. You bit your bottom lip, Dean looking you up and down. “Why’d you save me?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you said quietly.

“Do you think I want to hurt you?” he asked.

“No. How can we trust each other though?” you asked. He stared at you and leaned over, planting his lips to yours, moving them slowly against your own, pulling back after a few long seconds.

“Go out with me tonight,” he said.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine. Why’d you warn me?” he asked.

“You like me,” you said.

“You like me. Or at least the idea of me. Someone that understands this fucked up life we have to live,” he said.

“If things were different, Dean, I would say yes. But I think we’re both better off going back to our families and saying it didn’t work out,” you said.

“I understand,” he said, offering you a short smile as he got to his feet. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Someday when we’re running things...let me take you out to dinner,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “Someday, Dean.”

Three Years Later

“Well Lucky, you are going home today,” you said with a smile, giving the dog a smile as you pulled him out of his crate. “You do your best to stay out of traffic from now on, okay?”

One of the nurses, Harper, got the dog’s paperwork and you sent her home. You didn’t mind staying late. Your father had an exceptionally boring meeting to attend on Thursday nights anyway and the more often you got out of going, the better.

You heard the door open at the front of the office and you walked out there with Lucky by your side, pausing when you saw the man looking around. His gaze landed on you and his lip twitched up for a split second. Everything about him was so much harder than you remembered. He was in a suit and wool coat. Maybe he was a detective. Or maybe he’d gotten a promotion in the family business.

“I’m here to pick up Lucky,” he said.

“The uh, the dog belongs to a Sam Smith,” you said, cocking your head. “Or should I say Sam Winchester.”

“Uh huh,” said Dean. “Is Lucky all set?”

“Yeah, let me get his medicine for you,” you said.

Five minutes later you’d finished your talk about how to care for him the next few days. Dean was quiet afterwards, simply taking the bag and Lucky’s leash as they headed out.

“Good for you, the vet thing,” he said when his back was turned. “You still in the business?”

“Are you?”

“Be careful, Y/N,” he said.

He left without another word. You weren’t sure if he was threatening you or offering a warning. Either way you were gone and in your car in under a minute.

“I’m home,” you said, peeling off your jacket, finding your father in his office. “I miss anything exciting?”

“I’m starting to think you work late on Thursdays on purpose,” he said with a smirk. “How were the animals today?”

“Good. I delivered a litter of kittens with the other vet and my pup with the broken leg went home,” you said.

“I’m glad you went back to school for that, have your other job. You’ve been far happier since then,” he said.

“Mhm. About my other job then,” you said, taking a seat.

“Another one of our shipments was stolen,” he said.

“Inside guy?” you asked.

“Unlikely. Winchesters. Dean’s using his connections at the department to track down our spots your Uncle and I think,” he said.

“Dangerous game he’s playing,” you said. “I thought Dean fell off the radar.”

“He had. He went out to LA for awhile. He only returned about a month ago. It doesn’t seem he likes subtly,” he said. He tapped his finger on his desk, staring out the back window. “I want you to send a message to the kid.”

“I don’t do that,” you said.

“A different message. Eye for an eye. Go take back our shipment. You’re good at that sort of thing,” he said.

“I’ll get Anthony and Vincent on it,” you said. He shook his head at you. “Me?”

“Sometimes you gotta get out of the office to do the job. Bring the boys as backup. You’re much quieter than those two. You’ll be in and out like that.”

“Keep the car running,” you told the guys as you skirted around the corner of the warehouse. It was a small item you were picking up, easy enough to slip into a backpack. You ducked inside a back door, the lock simple enough to pick.

The warehouse didn’t belong to the Winchesters. It was actually a legitimate one for a local business. That was one of the reasons for their success. They never had their name tied to that sort of thing.

Still, that didn’t mean you hadn’t figured out how to con a drunk stocking guy once and get the info you needed.

You quietly headed for a back shelf area, eyes scanning along the crates until you found the one you were looking for. The package was shoved in your backpack and you were halfway out of there when a hand grabbed you, another one slamming over your mouth.

Shoved up against a wall, you found Dean pinning you back. His hold on you wasn’t hurtful though and after a few seconds, he released you.

“I thought I told you to be careful,” he whispered.

“Let me get out of here,” you said. He turned his head, nodding after a moment. You moved to leave when he grabbed your arm. He stared for a moment and tugged, smashing his lips to yours. He moved back just as quickly, licking his lips when he finished.

“Go on before someone else shows up,” he said.

You backed away, Dean smirking briefly.

“Saturday. 1am. Cabin just off Pike road by mile marker 67. Come alone,” he said, moving quickly down an aisle and calling out. You dashed outside and back to the guys, already gone by the time Dean’s men came looking.

Two Days Later

You pulled over on the side of the quiet road, parked behind a black muscle car. You looked around a good ten minutes before you got out and headed for the cabin, opening the front door without warning.

“Was wondering if you were going to show or not,” said Dean, sitting in front of the fire place with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose. “Nobody else is here but feel free to check for yourself.”

“I’ll take your word on it,” you said, taking a seat on the couch beside him. Dean reached over to the end table and poured you a drink, handing it over silently.

It was good, a nice sweet aftertaste. Dean refilled his glass and took another sip, letting it rest on his leg when he finished.

“You’re not a cop anymore,” you said.

“What gave it away,” he said with a smile. “I see you became a vet. Good for you.”

“S’my day job,” you said.

“I miss my day job,” he said. You turned your head, Dean doing the same.

“Dad always said you can tell when someone’s lying based on the eyes,” you said.

“Mine taught me that too,” he said.

“You still like me.”

“You still like me,” he said. “We’re exactly where we were three years ago.”

“You’re handsome, Dean. And you were sweet. I liked that you were still a cop despite not always doing the right thing yourself. But I don’t think you’re the guy that convinced me to get control over my life anymore,” you said.

“I’m not. But you’re not the same girl,” he said. “You want me to leave you alone, I will. Just say so.”

You pursed your lips, eyes wandering down to his.

“You’re in the mafia,” you said.

“So are you,” he said.

“I’ve lived with a mafia boss my whole life. I’m not living the rest of it with one,” you said.

“Good thing I’m not a mafia boss then,” he said.

“You’re in training to be one.”

“As are you,” he said.

“My situation is different,” you said.

“No it’s not. It’s exactly the same as mine,” he said.

“Maybe I learned the best thing for my survival,” you said.

“Like I said, it’s the same,” he said.

“You don’t get what I’m saying.”

“As a police officer, what do you possibly think one of the most incredible things I could do is? Take down a mafia family? That’s pretty hard to do. Unless that cop is running it,” he said.

“You’re going to turn on your own family?” you asked.

“Aren’t you?”

“My Uncle is taking over when my dad steps down. At least that’s what me and my Uncle agreed to,” you said. “You’re talking about...that’s treason in this line of work.”

“So is what you just said,” he said. He sipped on his drink as you slumped back into the couch. “It’s just an option for me right now. I mean, our lifestyle has perks.”

“I’ll take kindness over-“

“I don’t know how things happen in your family but when we aren’t talking business, we are actually a family. It’s why I’m still deciding which why to fall,” he said.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“It’s not like I can tell anyone else. I haven’t had a meaningful conversation with a women in three years. I’ll take it where I can get it,” he said.

“What? You were just waiting to run into me after all this time? You’re the one that went off to LA,” you said. You stood and knocked back your drink, heading for the door. “I don’t even know you.”

“Then why’d you come?” he asked. You shrugged, pausing when you were halfway there. “Y/N.”

“I thought you were good,” you said.

“Just because I do bad things doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy,” he said.

“That’s exactly what it means,” you said.

“The world isn’t black and white and you know it. Just admit you like me,” he said.

“I don’t know you, asshole. I saved your neck back in the day and you turned around and brought me to your father. You’ve always been a bad guy. You’re the one that got me in that shitty situation. So play whatever games you want because you and me? We’re enemies, that’s it. That’s all we’ll ever be. Get over it,” you said. You grabbed the door handle, Dean getting up behind you.

“Maybe we’re supposed to be enemies. It doesn’t mean we have to be. I don’t want a war with your family as much as you don’t want one with mine. Why can’t we just try to be friends?” he asked.

“You could be playing me for all I know,” you said.

“I’ve let you go more than once. I’ll let you go tonight whenever you choose to leave. I steal and I get in fights and I make deals and I screw people over. I certainly don’t let people in. You, you little shit, have been in my head everyday the past three years. You were so innocent and sweet and you saved a Winchester when I was dead to rights. I thought you were conning me. I so thought you were conning me. That is why I brought you to my dad that day. Turns out you’re just a good person. A mobster's daughter was a good person. Of fucking course I fell for you. Being all fucking hot and you got even hotter and you were good and you understand this life and you’re lonely too. Don’t fucking tell me I’m playing you. You could get me in an assload of trouble with the stuff I’ve said to you. You know how I trust you? Because you’re a good person under the crap. So stop this little I’m a badass act. We do enough pretending as it is.”

He breathed hard and drank the rest of his whiskey, clenching his jaw as he swallowed.

“That’s the most aggressive way anyone’s ever asked me out,” you said.

“Am I going to get an aggressive answer back?” he asked. You moved away from the door and walked over to him, looking him up and down before grabbing his tie and pressing your lips together. His eyes were a shade darker when you released him, Dean wiping his bottom lip with his thumb.

“This place got a bedroom?”

“I said...bottom,” growled Dean in your ear, pinning your wrists over your head with one of his hands. It was playful before when you were wrestling around but he was too strong for you to pull him off. Not that you minded.

“Well just because I’m down here, it doesn’t mean you’re in charge,” you said, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him closer.

“We’ll see about that,” he breathed out. He started to thrust into you slowly, building a soft rhythm that was easy to get into. Dean kissed you gently as he moved, his grip on your hands looser but he still had you right where he wanted you.

His cock was a perfect size and he knew exactly how to pump his hips so he was hitting your g-spot.

“Faster,” you mumbled against his cheek, Dean tsking you. “Faster.”

“No. I like slow,” he said, kissing you again, grinding his hips against your skin, smacking together so lightly you barely heard it. Your legs dug into his back for more but he ignored it, sinking into the slow grind, sliding in and out of you. You started to nip at his bottom lip when he leaned in to kiss again but he pressed his forehead to yours, staring you down as he slammed home in long deep strokes.

You tried to put on an innocent face but he only smirked, returning to kissing along your jaw.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, jamming his face into your neck, pulling your arms apart so your hands were by your head, his own lacing your fingers together as he kept you in place. “Just let go, enjoy the build.”

“S’hard,” you said.

“S’not. Not gonna hurt you, Y/N. Just let go,” he mumbled against the skin. You closed your eyes, forcing your legs to lose the death grip on him. You sank bank into the mattress, letting your body give in to him. “There you go. Good girl.”

The more you relaxed, the more he gave you what you wanted. It wasn’t necessarily a faster rhythm by any means but it felt good, a slow pressure building up inside you.

“Dean,” you whispered. “Wanna touch you.”

He kissed you and moved his hands away from yours, sliding them down to cup your cheek instead and give him a better angle to thrust into you. You threw your arms over his shoulders, running your fingers through his hair, holding on gently as he started to drag the length of his cock against your walls with a little more speed.

You started to roll your hips quickly once you felt the need in you start to build faster, searching for your release. Dean pressed a hand against you and stilled you, shaking his head once before he returned to kissing you.

You were a hot and sweaty mess by the time you felt yourself start to crest, this orgasm long and low, drawn out and out and out, Dean never once faltering his pace. You were pushed into a second more fierce orgasm when he didn’t stop moving, walls clenching down around Dean. He groaned and started to come, fucking through it until his thrusts finally got slow and lazily, Dean pulling out of you with a pant. He breathed heavily beside you, blinking open his eyes to catch you staring at him.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, running a finger through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“This is a horrendously bad idea,” you said.

“For sure,” he said, giving you a sleepy smile. You tucked yourself against him, Dean throwing an arm over your back. You closed your eyes.

It was more than a bad idea. It was borderline suicidal. What you’d just done was more than enough to get you reamed out a new one but an actual relationship with someone in a rival family? The Winchester family?

You were signing your own death warrant if you didn’t get out of that bed and fast.

“Dean,” you said quietly. He hummed, his chest rumbling with it. He looked you in the eye, a gentleness in him you remembered from that day in the park years ago.

“Don’t hurt me either,” he said.

“I won’t,” you said. “I have one, one condition if you and I do this, do more.”

“No games,” he said with a nod, a smile crossing your lips. “You’re just you and I’m just me. No pretending. I can agree to that.”

“Me too,” you said. He smiled, his eyes fluttering for a moment. “Sleep.”

“You gonna be here when I wake up?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Sorry I don’t have much for food up here,” said Dean as you were both getting dressed the next morning. “I’ll have to stock up the place if we want to use it more often.”

“We’re going to have to hide this, all the time,” you said. “We can’t even smile if we get a flirty text from the other.”

“You gonna send me flirty texts?” he teased. You put a hand on your hip, Dean chuckling as he pulled it away and wrapped his arms around you. “This won’t be easy and anytime we want to go out, we’re gonna have to drive out of town so we aren’t seen. It’s definitely going to suck until we’re both in charge of our operations.”

“That could be years from now. Do you really want to run around and hide that long?” you asked.

“No. But it’s all we got for…” said Dean, his eyes going wide when he heard the front door open.

“Who-”

“Hide in the bathroom. Now,” he said, fixing his pants. You stared but he waved at you. “I swear I didn’t tell anyone. I-”

You both froze when the bedroom door opened, a tall young man blinking as he looked at the two of you.

“Sorry. Was driving back from campus. Had to take a leak and the cabin was on the way...what are you doing with a chick in the emergency cabin? No one comes here. Ever and...is that Y/N Miller for crying out loud?” he said.

You watched Dean step in front of you without hesitation, a tiny smile on your lips at the act.

“Sammy...I can explain,” said Dean.

“Yeah. You better. Now move, I still gotta go,” he said, brushing past you both and into the bathroom. Dean tried to usher you out the front door but Sam, little brother Sam Winchester currently off studying law, was quick and out in the family room area like that. “Hey. She’s not going anywhere until I know why the hell you brought someone else to our secret place. You bring girls here before?”

“No, Sam. No one knows this place exists for you and me and now her. I swear,” said Dean. Sam shifted his gaze to you, wrinkling his nose.

“Back off, Winchester,” you said. Dean held out a hand in front of you, to stop Sam from doing something or yourself, you weren’t really sure.

“Dean. I don’t know what she said but odds are-”

“Odds are that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” said Dean. Sam scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

“Since when?”

“Since last night. You’ve known I’ve liked her for a while now,” he said.

“Yeah but that was before...she’s not some college kid anymore. She’s in this like you. I can guarantee-”

“I think I’m older than you and if anyone knows how to read a con, it’s me, not you. I kept you out of this shit as much as I could. Leave it alone,” said Dean.

“I want to talk to her alone,” said Sam. Dean scoffed, Sam lifting his chin. “It shouldn’t a problem unless you don’t trust me.”

You knew the answer as soon as you saw Dean’s shoulders slump, his head look back at you.

“Five minutes,” said Dean. Sam nodded and gave you a short smile as you followed Sam back into the bedroom. He motioned for you to shut the door, narrowing his eyes the second you did.

“Spare me the ‘if you hurt my big brother’ speech,” you said.

“I wasn’t going to give it,” he said. “I heard you’re my dog’s vet.”

You scrunched up your face, slowly remembering Lucky.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. She was fine, full recovery,” you said. “Why? Someone say she’s not doing well?”

“No. Just wondering...if you’d known that was a Winchester’s dog…”

“I don’t hurt animals, Sam. Or people. I’m not very good at it,” you said. He glanced at the unmade bed, looking past you out the window.

“Why’d you save my brother three years ago?”

“I don’t hurt people, Sam,” you said, lifting your chin. “Your brother didn’t deserve that.”

“You care about him?” he asked.

“I don’t want him to get hurt,” you said.

“I asked if you care about him.”

“Yes, Sam. I care about him,” you said.

“Then stay away from him. What do you think your father will do to him once he finds out you’re dating?” he said.

“If my father finds out I’m dating a Winchester, my life is as good as over. He’ll never let me out of his sight again,” you said.

“He’s gonna get hurt,” said Sam. “Or worse.”

“He’s the one that came to me and brought stuff up again. I don’t control my father anymore than you control yours. I’m in danger too but you don’t see me going around snapping at you,” you said.

“You’re not the first pretty girl your father has sent our way,” said Sam. You raised an eyebrow, Sam pulling up his sleeve and showing you a small scar in his arm. “Girl in study group a few years ago. I thought we had something going on. Turns out she was trying to collect me after Dean busted out of your house,” he said.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t do that,” you said.

“I don’t trust you,” he said, tugging his sleeve back down and grabbing your wrists, tugging the two of them together.

You heard the door creek open and Dean stare at his brother, Sam giving it right back.

“You won’t let this go until you trust her, won’t you,” said Dean.

“I’m never going to trust her,” said Sam.

“Fine,” said Dean, a flicker of concern crossing your face. “Why don’t you call up dad then? Tell him you caught Y/N Miller at our super secret cabin. Or if you’re not willing to divulge that information, make up a lie and turn her over. I’m sure dad will sit her down and they’ll have a civil chat. I’m sure you wouldn’t be condemning her to a bunch of horrible things, right Sammy? You got the guts to do that to an innocent girl?”

“She’s not innocent.”

“Oh, you’ve committed more crimes than her, goodie two shoes,” said Dean. “She’s like you Sammy. She doesn’t have the stomach for it. You’re both too kind. So unless you’re telling me I’ve wasted my life to keep you out of the game and you suddenly want in, let her go.”

“Just don’t hurt him,” said Sam, dropping your hands.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kick your ass for that,” you said.

“Can you two please at least try to get along?” said Dean. Sam sighed but nodded, your eyes rolling but you gave Dean a nod as well. “Good. Sam, I brought her here because I trust her. She’s a mafia kid too. You know, she understands that. Especially the having someone watching over your shoulder your whole life.”

“Yeah, I…” you trailed off, staring at Sam. “Did you lose your tail?”

“Huh?”

“Your tail. The one I’m sure follows you around college. Did you lose them before you came here?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know how to…” said Sam, looking out the window. “I’ve been stopped awhile. I got to go. He’ll catch up soon.”

“Go. We’ll talk about this later,” said Dean. Sam got out of there fast, Dean pursing his lips. “I’ll call you sometime today?”

“Alright. You better get out of here too,” you said. You both heard the front door open, a guy you didn’t recognize walk in.

“Gordon, I can-“

“Shut it, Dean,” said Gordon, pointing at you. “You, Miller, get your ass over here if you don’t want to be traveling with a bullet hole in your shoulder.”

“Gordon, stand down,” said Dean.

“You ain’t my boss. You’re in a heap of trouble yourself. If you want things to get rough, they can,” he said. Dean thought about, very clearly thought about it, until two more guys walked in. “Well?”

“Anyone touches her and-“

“Just get in the car kid,” he said. The two guys entered and Dean sighed when you gave him a nod. You knew enough not to put up a fight and sighed when you realized only you and Gordon were driving in your car.

“You taking me to the Winchester’s place?” you asked.

“Yup.”

“Any chance of that not happening?” you asked.

“Sure. You got ten million dollars?” he laughed.

“What if I did?” you said.

“Not worth being on John Winchester’s bad side,” he said.

“Well I’m kind of screwed then, aren’t I?” you said.

“Pretty much.”

“Seriously?” you growled back at the guy holding your jacket collar. “There’s like five armed guys in here. What am I gonna do?”

“Quiet,” said Gordon. You grumbled, Sam and Dean at least being allowed to sit in the couch but they had their own babysitters standing behind them.

Dean gave you a cautious glance before you were sat down in a chair beside them, your new buddy standing behind you. You swallowed at the sound of a door opening, John Winchester stepping inside, carefully shutting it behind himself.

“So...who wants to tell me what exactly you three are up to in a cabin that nobody seems to know about?” he asked. You kept your gaze low but you saw his feet appear in front of you, a finger under your chin urging you to look up. “Ms. Miller perhaps? I’d take all the brownie points I could get right now if I were you.

You looked over to Dean and Sam, a small flicker on their faces that you couldn’t tell them the truth.

“I was conning Dean,” you breathed out. “Sam stopping by was unexpected but I think he bought into it.”

“How were you conning him exactly?” asked John.

“I…” you trailed off, Sam grunting.

“She was pretending to be interested in Dean. For information,” said Sam. “She said she liked him but I think it was just to get close and get info.”

“Dean?” he asked.

“I was the one that-“ you said, John’s finger sliding up and pressing against your lips.

“Shh, Y/N. I don’t want to hear another word out of you,” he said. He walked away and leaned over to look at Dean, the young man suddenly looking very much like a child. “I’m waiting. Did she con you?”

“No,” he said after a beat. “I was...I was conning her.”

“So now you were conning Y/N. Okay. Now then, why did Sammy just lie for her?” asked John.

“I didn’t,” said Sam. “I’m really confused on the situation too. I was only there a minute so maybe I didn't…” he said as John leaned over to him, “...understand?”

John stood upright and paced over to you, walking behind you and resting his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N. It seems my sons, my smart, bright, loyal boys, have turned into idiotic liars. Be a dear please and tell me exactly what’s going on,” he said. His hands never squeezed your shoulders like you were anticipating and you managed to tilt your head back to look at him, a blank face looking back.

You faced forward, swallowing as you opened your mouth.

“I was-“ said Dean as he stood, a hand on his shoulder shoving him back down. “Tony, don’t you dare do that ever again.”

“We...talked,” you said. “Dean and I.”

“About…” said John.

“That’s...private,” you said. You felt John move away and walk in front of you with a raised eyebrow.

“Private? I think I asked you a question.”

“I think I answered the question. You just don’t like the answer.”

You saw Sam cover his face with his hands, Dean’s head shaking at you in your peripheral, but you kept your gaze on John. He broke out into a laugh, sitting down on the armrest if your chair.

“If you had a set on you, they’d be a pretty big one. See, nobody talks to me like that, especially in this room,” he said.

“You’re gonna do to me whatever it is you’re gonna do no matter what comes out of my mouth. But Sam is innocent in all this and so is Dean. I think you should be questioning your parenting choices if your kids feel like they have to have a secret place they can hide from you and your men,” you said.

“So you’re not gonna spill the beans for what? I’m not gonna hurt my own sons,” he said.

“Shut it with the monologue. Just get it over with already,” you said, crossing your arms. John nodded to Gordon, a pair of zip ties tossed in your lap. You put them on without being asked, John nodding for you to stand.

“Send our guest downstairs. Put her in the bunk room,” he said. “Gently.”

You pursed your lips as you went back out to the hall and a blindfold went over your eyes. Gordon was mostly kind and helped you down the stairs but once you were in a room with a bed, he left the  blindfold on and shut the door behind himself.

You tugged it down but frowned when you saw the ties were the extra thick ones, no getting out of them. You barely had the time to look around before John was opening the door, closing it behind himself.

“I figured it’d be better if we talk one on one,” he said, grabbing a chair on the edge of the room and turning it around, straddling it as he sat down. “So. Those boys upstairs got their lips sealed until they can figure out their story. But like I said before, I want to hear it from you.”

“Like I said before, it’s private,” you said. He smiled quickly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I never did apologize for how I treated you that day back then, did I. You helped my boy out. I’m sorry I was...unagreeable that day. I had a lot going through my head over what could have happened to Dean. I know he tried to sneak you out the same way he got out of your father’s place. Only you couldn’t even point a fake gun at him without literally having a panic attack.”

“I don’t have that problem anymore,” you said.

“You’re not understanding, kiddo. You can’t hurt my son. I’m sure you’re physically capable but mentally? I don’t think so.”

“Your point?”

“My point is you’ve shown loyalty to him on a few different occasions now. Even Sammy and Sammy’s not quick to warm up to people after the study group thing. The boys are willing to lie for you and you’re willing to lie to them,” he said.

“And?”

He frowned and grabbed your hands, pulling a switchblade from his back pocket and cutting through the tie.

“Don’t make me regret doing that,” he said.

“I can’t go anywhere,” you said. He chuckled, sitting back in his seat.

“I’ve known about the boy’s secret cabin in the woods for years,” he said. “It don’t take a genius to figure out why two kids run off without dad knowing about it to some secluded spot.”

“We-“

“You’re dating Dean, aren’t you,” he said.

You made your face blank, John doing the same.

“For how long?” he asked. You didn’t move and he gave you a smile. “I know about you, Y/N. I suspected someday your father may use you to try and seduce one of my boys. But that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

“Why don’t you ask me a straight question?”

“Fine. Do you care about Dean? Yes or no,” he said.

“I...I’m still figuring out if I like him or just the idea of liking him,” you said. John hummed, looking you up and down.

“You two are fresh into this, aren’t you,” he said.

“Very,” you said, taking a deep breath.

“You know...honesty is important to me,” he said. “So are my boys. So I think as long as you and dumb and dumber up there are honest with me, we won’t have any problems.”

“I’m not understanding,” you said. He stood up and moved the chair aside, waving you towards the door. You stayed still, John sitting down in the bed next to you.

“Frank Miller is my enemy. That doesn’t mean you have to be too,” he said.

“You’re really going to let me leave? Let me wander around your house with Dean?” you asked.

“I will let you leave and you may go around the house with him, yes,” he said. “I simply ask the same courtesy is extended to-“

“This is a mistake,” you said as you looked over at him. “My dad is not as forgiving and...you could be playing games for all I know.”

“Maybe you should walk out the door then,” he said. You stood up before he could change his mind and heard him follow you up a set of stairs and to a hall, going down it until you got to a foyer. “If you walk out the door, there won’t be a second chance.”

“You know your son is probably the only guy that can imagine what growing up in this like. With a shitty father. But you must have done something right because underneath that act, he’s good. Better than you. I’m not leaving because I’m scared of you, Mr. Winchester. I’m scared what my father does to him because it’ll be bloody and bad if he ever finds out. So tell Dean wherever it is you locked him away that I’m sorry.”

You turned to leave, John putting a hand on your arm.

“Dean’s always been in danger from that man. You dating him won’t change that,” he said. You stared up at him until you both heard a door open violently down the hall, your heads whipping around to see a fuming Dean coming straight at you.

“Back off,” said Dean. John held up his hands and stepped away, Dean quickly stepping between the two of you. “Don’t touch her.”

“A little defensive of our new girlfriend, aren’t we?” teased John.

“I quit,” said Dean, stepping into John’s face. “Find somebody else to run this place. You come near her or Sammy...we’re done with you.”

“Dean. I think your dad was actually cool with us dating,” you said.

“And I’m Mary freaking Poppins,” said Dean. “Let’s-“

“Dean. I have no issue with you dating Y/N here,” he said. Dean stared at him, a long deep stare.

Until he burst out laughing.

“Of course not. Hell, you’ve only found problems with every girl I was ever even willing to bring home and now the rival mob boss’s daughter is just perfect for me?” laughed Dean. John clenched his jaw, Dean going quiet fast. “I’m done.”

“That’s a shame,” you heard behind you, your own skin crawling. Your father and a group of men walked in along with your Uncle, a smile on his face. “I thought things were just getting started here. Let my daughter leave and I’ll make it quick, Winchester.”

“You’re the one that broke into my house, Miller,” growled John.

“Did you-” asked Dean, your head shaking.

“I called them,” said Sam, walking down the hall. “Just now. You two need to settle your crap and leave us out of it.”

“Miller’s the one that brought the kids into it in the first place,” said John.

“They’re adults, they ain’t little kids. And you’re the one that got my wife killed and almost my daughter,” said your dad.

“I was the one that told you there was a guy going around that worked for Donovan! You’re the one that put a bomb on a freaking car!” he said.

“I didn’t put a bomb on a car!” he shouted back.

“Well maybe Donovan’s guy did jackass! Ever think of that!” shouted John.

“You said you put the bomb on the car and it was an accident,” you said. Your dad, rolled his eyes but you shook your head. “No. You talk. Now.”

“It was easier to let you think it happened one way,” he said.

“I hated you for that,” you said.

“Now you hate me for a whole lot more so I guess it worked out in the end.”

“Why would you let me think that?” you asked.

“Who the hell is Donovan?” asked Dean, looking back and forth between the men.

“Ex-business partner,” said John.

“Mafia’s have rules. Donovan don’t play by the rules,” said your dad. “Too dangerous to stick with once we started having families.”

“You two don’t hate each other because you’re rivals...you guys used to work together, didn’t you,” you said. They shared a look and you scoffed, rubbing your temple. “Wow.”

“Excuse me?” said Dean, glaring at your father. “You...I grew up hearing horror stories of the Millers and you used to work with my dad?”

“I used to babysit you, kid,” he said, Dean’s eyes wide for a moment. “Shit, I even changed your diaper.”

“Somebody explain what the fuck is going on, without guns, right now.”

“Okay,” you said with a nod, looking at Sam and Dean after you’d finished listening to your fathers in John’s office. All the other men were outside, sounding like they were having a great time actually from all the laughing out in the hall. “So to sum it up, you two and Donovan used to run together and you two are complete and utter morons.”

“Hey,” said your dad, John miming him.

“Guys. Dean keeps me out of the mafia stuff and even I can tell you two were double-crossed. Donovan’s the one that made you turn on each other. You didn’t do it to each other ya bimbos,” said Sam.

“So it’s true?” asked Dean, crossing his arms as he stood in front of his father. “You two were good friends until Y/N and I were toddlers? You declined to tell us the fact that we used to have freaking playdates together! You two...do you have any idea how much the two of you terrorized us as kids? As adults? If I were still a cop, I’d arrest you both.”

“You’re really not an undercover cop? I always thought maybe you still were,” said John.

“I quit. I was too nervous about you asking me to abuse that power,” said Dean, wrinkling his nose. “Donovan conned you both. He stole from you both and you were too cocky to realize what happened. Get over it.”

“Did he have mom killed?” you asked.

“I got a phone call from John a few years ago, five or so back. It was strange, but he was trying to warn me after Mary was killed...Donovan killed both your mothers,” he said.

“Why lie to us about who really did what?”

“I’m not a good guy, kiddo,” said your dad. “The more you hate me, the more often you stay away. It’s worked out pretty well so far.”

“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots,” you said, shaking your head. “Just stay away from me. Give the mafia to Uncle Mikey. I don’t care anymore.”

You left the room, the crowd outside going quiet as you went past and out through the front doors. You took a seat on the front step, putting your head in your hands.

“Hey,” said Dean as he plopped next to you, Sam taking a seat on his other side. “You guys want to get out of here for a while?”

“Yeah,” said Sam. You felt both their gazes on you and you nodded.

“Alright. Gives us a minute to pack up and then we can go someplace else and clear our heads.”

“This place is gorgeous,” you said late that night, sitting on a deck at the Winchester’s beach house.

“Mhm. Mom used to take us a lot when we were little,” said Sam, throwing back the rest of his beer. “I’m heading to bed. I drove all last night and most of today.”

“Sleep good Sammy,” said Dean, Sam yawning as he headed inside. Dean glanced over at you, a funny smile on his face. “Today so did not go how I expected.”

“Nope,” you said, closing your eyes and rubbing your arm. You could hear Dean moving around and pull his chair closer, something warm over top of you after a moment. You blinked open your eyes, his flannel on you now. “Thanks.”

“I can be sweet when I want to be,” he said.

“What do we do now?” you asked.

“I say we finish our drinks and go have a cuddle in that big warm bed,” he said with a smile. You cocked your head, Dean lifting his chin. “Oh. You mean the elephant in the room.”

“I don’t want to be a mafia boss, Dean,” you said, shifting over and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Be a vet then, sweetheart,” he said.

“I like you better when you’re not in mafia mode you know.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he said.

“When you’re sweet. Not all...I don’t know,” you said.

“I understand. I think,” he said, kicking his feet up on the deck railing. “It’s hard to turn it off. It’s scary to turn it off. I’m going to have to learn how to do that if you still want to give us a go.”

“My opinion of you hasn’t changed from this morning,” you said. “I think Sam even likes me now.”

“I think he was scared before. Us three gotta stick together. No more of this feuding family crap ever again.”

“I still can’t believe we were friends once,” you said.

“Makes sense why I’ve always had a soft spot for you,” he said. You lifted your head, Dean offering you a smile. “After the past day and last night...I trust you, Y/N.”

“Me too. Let’s take the weekend and forget about all this stuff for a while. Maybe when we go home again we can try to get the business to work together?” you asked.

“Yeah. I think that’s a great idea, sweetheart.”

[castielscarma]

SPN pretending like Sam and Dean couldn't be happy or start a new life as lang as both of them were alive is gross af. They should've learned that they can establish their own life while staying close. Dean turned out to be the no 1-thing hindering Sam from getting a white-picket-fence-life. They couldn't be happy together in life, but in death everyhing is a-ok? Life was just suffering til you reached blissful death? Even if they had 1000 ppl on that bridge and Cas, it still would've been gross

Hi Nonnie! I mean there are (theological) philosophies that do indeed see life on Earth as some sort of Hell you have to suffer through or escape and others that see the immortal soul as the true great light (which it is imo <3) but view the body as the soul’s prisoner (like certain branches of Gnosticism). In that context, yes death is good.  Even in the show, though Dean and Cas, and Sam have died they have somehow grown or learned something (i.e in the show Death has sometimes been used as a tool for growth or transformation) so there is a basis there for using death as something *more* than death, yeah?  I’m kind of going back and forth with this still, even though it’s been weeks but... If Dean died saving some kids on a hunt, would I necessarily think it was a bad ending. No... He died saving children and then he’d go off to Heaven where he meets his loved ones, and he’s shown to be happy and we see all those loved ones. I think I’d be alright with that if done right (which it wasn’t). What I do have issues with is *how* that - Dean’s death - happened and... the timeframe. For all we know, Dean died a week later, a month later, 6 months later. Basically, it was not long. And that hits harder when we do know that they were finally free from Chuck and all the string-pulling. Now with what Dean said, that’s my main issue and it ties back to that Dean actually dies, yeah? For seasons, hell from the very beginning it’s established that Dean has *issues*. We don’t know what, but we know it’s there and over the arc of seasons, we do realize what they are. Dean is a person, despite his deep capacity for love, for taking care of people, for being nerdy and knowledgeable a person that has suffered numerous traumas. The death of his mother at the age of 4, the uprooting of his home and the drastic transformation of his father (that hinted at, his home life wasn’t perfect) still was reasonably stable.  The knowledge about monster and demons being real, the forced responsibility of him to take care of his own brother which left him no room to be a child for himself, the times he saw his father be upset furious, the hints at abuse, (shouting, bruises, probably alcoholic rages), dealing with weapons and hunting as a kid, the sexualized encounters he had (whether that be him doing sexual favors for money, or people just viewing him through a sexual lense), the abandonment from his dad and we are not even into Dean being an adult yet. The constant Apocalypses, Sam leaving him and coming back, Dean being violated through Michael, the Mark of Cain, his time in Hell where he was a torturer and tortured, and then finally learning that God, this almighty deity had a hardon for him and had basically manipulated him (or rather events) his entire life for fun, because it was entertainment and thus Dean suspecting that everything that was good in his life (Sam, Jack, Cas, the love he felt for them, familial and romantic) was fake, that the worst of horrors, he was not real (I’m really sorry, this turned out way longer than I meant it to lol), ALL OF THAT and then to have Dean come to the realization, through Cas confessing his love and telling him that all he ever did and all he ever was was love. (Not saying that Dean reaching that point of he’s good with himself was only through Cas), Dean worked on that himself, just the prayer scene was a huge insight into that and Dean’s anger -- and boy did he have reason to be angry. To then have Dean say that it was only about him and Sam and then Dean dying totally invalidates Dean’s entire journey and growth as a character and it’s gross as fuck.  Not to mention that it totally strengthens the co-dependent bond that Dean and Sam spent seasons trying to break. Sam in the finale was not a man imo who found peace. We didn't know about his wife, he named his son Dean (and while in other instances that would’ve worked just with how 15x20 was portrayed instead of it being a homage or honoring his brother it imo reeked of Sam clinging and the show regressing back to being a baby again). He was shown as haggard, sitting in Baby and reminiscing. Eileen who was a strong, capable woman, who Sam loved was tossed into the Empty (literally, since they totally erased her, Cas at least got a lame mention). Dean didn’t get to live. And Sam while living, didn’t have a life. So yeah, you are right in that it showed them (more Sam because he was the one alive) that he couldn’t function without Dean and it all regressed back to them being codependent.  The theme of going back to the beginning, there is nothing wrong with that! But and here is the but, the characters are not regressing for that to happen. The theme of going back, of characters revisiting old themes, or places is to show that the characters have grown and evoled, that they are not the same. Regression is never the point in good storytelling! Not when the actual story claims to care for themes like free will, love and how that makes you better, found family - and how that is a shield and comfort, overcoming fear and trauma, themes of identity and how that identity is formed through the collective and individual experience said person has, like... all of that, the 15.20 episode totally butchered.

[shannendoherty-fans]

Shannen in Love

People, 11th October 1993

By Tom Gliatto

Nobody Does It Quicker: Apparently on the Spur of An Unguarded Moment, Volatile 90210 Star Shannen Doherty, 22, Weds Ashley Hamilton, 19

No question that Shannen Doherty, 22, volatile, voluble Hollywood wild child, has had a headline year or so. There was her engagement to Chicago real-estate manager Chris Foufas, later canceled. A much-publicized bar fight with a wannabe actress, Bonita Money. A threatened eviction by her landlord, who claimed she had skipped on $11,000 in rent. And most memorably, a plea for court-ordered protection by her subsequent ex-fiancé, Dean Factor, who charged she had pulled a gun on him and "threatened to hire a few guys to beat me and to sodomize me" on his front lawn. What, possibly, could Doherty do for an encore?

How about a spur-of-the-moment, no-parents-invited, B.Y.O.B. wedding to a guy she had known for two weeks? On Sept. 24, Beverly Hills, 90210's unpredictable star married her brand-new boyfriend, Ashley Hamilton, 19, the son of actor George Hamilton and his first wife, Alana Stewart, in the backyard of her rented Santa Monica Mountain home. Details are sketchy, but so, apparently, was the ceremony. Close friends and family, most of whom were not asked to share the moment, seemed stunned. Shannen's mother, Rosa Doherty, a beauty-salon manager who lives in Los Angeles, said simply that she and her husband, Tom, a mortgage consultant, were happy as long as Shannen was happy. "Shannen wanted to keep it private and personal," she said. "That's all I want to say."

Others were perhaps more candid. "I have no idea why he would do this," said one of Hamilton's friends. "It's beyond my wildest thoughts. I don't know where this came from."

At first, there was even speculation concerning whether the marriage was legal. "It happened too fast," says Doherty's ex-fiancé Foufas. "I wondered if anyone verified it, if there is a confirmed marriage license." (In fact, says Doherty's publicist, Stan Rosenfield, there is.) Doherty herself sidestepped the issue, flying with Hamilton to New York City on Sunday night to host the Oct. 2 edition of Saturday Night Live. At LAX, in front of a posse of reporters, Hamilton conspicuously played with a gold band on his wedding finger. But Doherty's only comment to the press was a snappish "It's none of your business."

Whatever it was, it started with flowers. On Friday morning, Sept. 24, Shannen called her favorite florist in Los Angeles's Brentwood section. She placed a last-minute request for that evening: six separate arrangements of sunflowers and while flowers mixed. The occasion, the florist says he was told, was that "she was having some guests up."

That same day. she reported to work on the set of 90210. During a break, Doherty approached an art department staffer and asked him to come by that night and help decorate her backyard—for her wedding. "Boy, that was fast," gasped the crew member, who, like others on the set, was aware that Doherty had only begun dating Hamilton within the past month.

"Yeah," Doherty answered, "I just found out this morning."

[On September 26th, Doherty and Hamilton waited together — when not dodging press together — at the L.A. airport for their flight to New York City.]

By sundown, word had somehow zipped through town, and a dozen reporters had staked out Doherty's house on Mulholland Drive. By 9 p.m. a handful of guests arrived and drifted in through the front gates. It was a twentysomething L.A. crowd, from casual to grungy, toting six-packs and snack material. A white wedding cake was carried in atop a cardboard box. None of her 90210 regular castmates appeared—not even Doherty's closest friend, Tori Spelling.

As the assembled few watched, Hamilton and Doherty—who was barefoot and wearing a silk bathrobe—made their way through the backyard along a pathway of burning tiki torches, past bushes draped with twinkling lights and a swimming pool whose rippled surface was speckled with floating candles and sunflowers. "It was kind of a midnight Polynesian thing," says one source. The procession concluded, vows were exchanged, and then, according to Doherty publicist Rosenfield, the couple signed their marriage license in the presence of a notary public.

Yet even with the nuptials concluded, questions remained. Why the rush? Why B.Y.O.B.? Why was that cake so conspicuously exposed to the news cameras? (According to the decorator from 90210, Doherty had no food or drink, except for filtered tap water, on hand for her guests.) Why didn't the couple invite family members or many of their friends? Hamilton père, whose marriage to first wife Alana ended amicably in 1976, just laughed when he talked to longtime Daily Variety Hollywood columnist Army Archerd the following Monday. "I never told my parents when I was married," he said of his wedding to Alana. But Alana, in Texas for a high school reunion, was said to be furious at the turn of events involving her son.

What was known was that the 6'3", 190-lb. Hamilton, a fixture on young Hollywood's party scene, had moved in with Doherty right after meeting her. Until very recently, Shannen had been seeing actor Judd Nelson, 33; interestingly enough, it was through Nelson that she met his friend Hamilton. "I hear that friendship ended," says a Hamilton pal. A friend of Doherty's speculated that, furious over her breakup with Nelson three weeks ago. Shannen impetuously threw herself at Hamilton. Indeed, one 90210 staffer claims that, a week before the wedding, Doherty drove to Las Vegas to see Nelson, who was supposedly there with a former girlfriend.

Others saw the marriage as just another typically bizarre Doherty episode. "This is in the vein of Shannen's wacky life," says one 90210 source. "She's so impulsive." Ex-fiancé Foufas, who talked to Doherty the night before the wedding but was given no hint of it, suggested that the marriage might well be a play for attention on Doherty's part: "You know, she might have thought, 'How can I slump the press now?' " Or, he muses, she might just be looking for a little excitement. "Look at it this way," he says. "Five days a week you get up early and go to the studio until 9 at night. You have no life except what producers make of it. It's possible that they are just two people who are bored. I know that Shannen is bored."

In short, this relationship, all of two weeks old, has the earmarks of the peculiar tango—one two three, one two three, tabloid headline aaaaaand DIP!—the public has come to expect of Doherty and her significant others. But Ashley, who recently completed a stint at a Los Angeles drug rehab clinic, is no stranger to trouble himself. A dyslexic who was enrolled in a special-educational program, Hamilton has said he always hated school. "I spent a lot of time in the principal's office," he said. He graduated from high school in 1991, determined to make a career in showbiz as an actor or a director. In December he will appear in Beethoven's 2nd (the sequel to the hit coined) about a Saint Bernard. A self-described rebel who loves motorcycles, he was involved last year in a near-fatal accident that left him bedridden for two months with 300 stitches in his head.

With his height and dark good looks, he has always appeared more mature than he is. "He does seem older," his mother, Alana, told PEOPLE this year, when he was included in the ranks of 1993's 50 Most Beautiful People. Growing up, she said, "he always hung around older kids." (Plus, he got to grow up in the same household as British rock and roll star Rod Stewart, who was married to Alana from 1979 to 1984.) The same kind of age gap is true of his love life. Before Doherty, he dated actress Claire Stansfield, 28, for more than a year. Summing up their age difference, Stansfield once said. "I had to make him realize Eric Clapton did something before MTV Unplugged."

Today, Stansfield, who spoke to Hamilton by phone soon after the wedding, says she is genuinely happy for the couple. "I think they're perfect for each other,' " she says. "It was funny saying to Ashley, 'Where's your wife?' He said she was in the other room."

Another person who has long been close to the Hamilton family is far less sanguine. "How could he do that and not tell his parents?" she asks. "If he would do that, he no longer is the Ashley I know." In any event, she says with a sigh, "maybe Shannen will make a man of him. Because he's still a boy."

As for Doherty, her friends hope for her were perhaps summed up by Foufas, who nearly married her himself just over a year ago. "All I care about is Shannen being happy," he says. "I don't think she's been a happy person."

[drshebloggo]

Ask box: JUSTICE FOR LANE KIM, a breakdown.

Anonymous asked: Do you know why Lane disappeared from the show as Rory's best friend over time? She appeared every now and then, yeah, but it has always bothered me that she slowly faded from being Rory's best friend to nobody... am I remembering things wrong?

I do not know! The Palladinos make decisions that sometimes are simply beyond my comprehension.

It’s been awhile since I watched Gilmore Girls in its entirety (and I kind of selectively ignore a lot in the last two, three seasons) but I don’t think you’re remembering things wrong. I will say, though, that the show faced a challenge with all of the Stars Hollow supporting ensemble when Rory went off to college. It’s these kind of problem-making focus shifts that I find really interesting, and they are UBIQUITOUS across teen/high school shows when a character or ensemble graduates.

Most of them that I can think of are done poorly, maybe with the exception of Friday Night Lights. But in defense of these shows, it’s HARD. How do you embrace a fundamental shift in the entire premise of your show? How do you deal with the new geographies of this shift, and the way they ripple into beloved character dynamics? How do you evolve a character through an engaging and meaningful arc without abandoning the foundation on which they were built? And how do you still capture your audience’s attention when there’s a risk that you’re leaving behind the magic that captivated them in the first place? IT’S HARD.

So in the case of Gilmore Girls, Rory at Yale is the shift that moves the show into a new paradigm, and it’s a big one. She’s separated from Stars Hollow and slowly beginning her emancipation from Lorelai, which is, on principle, painful for the audience because it’s directly against the show’s premise. (It’s no coincidence that the Palladinos starts seriously building the Luke-and-Lorelai-of-it-all once Rory’s away at college. Give that empty-nester some new story!)

Of course, Lane is right behind Lorelai in the list of People in Stars Hollow that Rory is Leaving Behind. How is Lane supposed to stay a part of Rory’s story when Rory is in a new context, and Lane is not? But, truth be told, Lane was ALREADY in this role. In seasons 1-3, LANE, not Lorelai, was #1 on the list of People in Stars Hollow that Rory is Leaving Behind. Ultimately Gilmore Girls is a story of two worlds, and Rory going to Chilton begins her passage across the into the New (Old, with Baggage) World. Lane is already being left behind, to some degree, and in seasons 1-3, there’s still room in the show’s universe to address those issues and give Lane some good storylines of her own, especially in conjunction with Rory.

So it’s possible that the issue is not necessarily one of screentime or setting. Whenever I hear the rebel cry of JUSTICE FOR LANE KIM resound in my heart chambers, I mostly think of the kinds of storylines that befell her in the later seasons, not simply in their detachment from Rory. Heeding her mom’s insistence that she attend Seventh Day Adventist college. Fracturing her relationship with her mom in order to pursue her dreams. Getting kicked out of her home. Living with her two boy bandmates who are very stupid and very messy. Never really getting the band off the ground. Her first sexual experience being terrible. Her first sexual experience being terrible AND yielding a pregnancy with TWINS. Why do the Palladinos hate Lane Kim!!! The only thing I wholeheartedly love about Lane’s later storylines is Luke hiring her to work at the diner and then being completely overwhelmed by her sheer competence.

It’s probably important to note that the mere construction of Lane Kim’s character is a bit tragic. The Palladinos are VERY good at building conflict and tension into what seems like simple character descriptions. Here’s this girl that loves rock music to an obsessive, encyclopedic level, wants to play drums in a band, and she’s from a strict religious household where she can’t express any of that. The description itself inherently means that things are going to blow up for Lane at some point. That’s okay, to some degree - that’s conflict, that’s drama, that’s good story.

So if we look at Lane’s arc pre-blow-up, and post-blow-up, the satisfying thing would be for Lane to experience some kind of happiness or success living unstifled in her dreams, to offset the trauma that her family relationships are ruined (at least for the time being). But the Palladinos don’t even do that! It’s encapsulated in the incident that tears apart Lane’s relationship with her mom: she goes to play at CBGB, her mom finds out and kicks her out, and the band doesn’t even get to go on!! The Palladinos love PAIN.

And okay, fine, there’s still some defense that that is well-designed drama and story. (And Lane and her mom do reconcile eventually, and it was at least very affecting, from my memory.) I guess you could argue that Lane IS happy with how things turned out after the lifelong lie she’s lived completely unravels and she’s able to just exist, unguarded. But also... the Palladinos wrote her that way??? And regardless, for me, the issues arise more down the line with Lane essentially staying in Stars Hollow. Wouldn’t unshackling herself from the yoke of her mother mean that she’s free to pursue her dreams? And wouldn’t pursuing her dreams necessitate her to ALSO leave Stars Hollow, like Rory herself? Would she not try to scrape together money to move with the band to New York City and hit the big time? (Bear in mind, I have no idea how the music industry works.)

Ultimately, Lane’s story in the later seasons puts the writers in a Catch-22. If she leaves Stars Hollow and goes somewhere else to pursue her dreams, she’s almost certainly written off the show. She’s a supporting character, and they can’t open up a new world beyond Stars Hollow and New Haven, just for her. On the other hand, if she stays in Stars Hollow, in keeping with the geographies of the universe, she stays on the show, and just... gets really disappointing storylines. I’d be inclined to keep giving Keiko Agena a paycheck. 

(Now, the fact that WB threw money at a backdoor pilot for Jess Mariano to go to California and open up a new world for a weakly-premised spin-off, and did no such thing for Lane Kim, is some bullshit. Literally “moving to the big city to live a dream” is SUCH a well-worn trope that all the storylines are essentially handed to them, and it’s almost inherently refreshed because Lane is a Korean-American woman and not a brooding white guy or a quirky white lady. You FOOLS, you could’ve made that show with your EYES CLOSED.)

Anyways.

I’m going to meander my way further off the main point for a moment to kick up some dust on JUSTICE FOR RORY GILMORE as well. When you write ten paragraphs lamenting Lane Kim’s eternal relegation to supporting role, it’s hard not to be cranky about affording world-opening and story-building for a main character instead. (Spin-off Jess very much deserves the crank, though.) But, frankly, the unyielding walls that the Palladinos built to construct their very effective Two-World Universe don’t do a lot of favors for Rory Gilmore either, in the end.

Basically, this construct of Stars Hollow ensemble and New Haven future means that Rory is the only one who will “get out” of Stars Hollow, because she is structurally decreed to do so. It’s the massive conflict that the Palladinos smartly built into their little generational premise: Lorelai fled her parents’ world, and Rory will slowly be lured back into it. Pain ensues. This is good drama. This is good story. This is story that will last seven seasons and six-hour revival.

But it also inadvertently makes Rory the Chosen One, in a story that doesn’t need one. This is not Joseph Campbell’s Hero with a Thousand Faces, and I’d like to believe that even Paris and Rory wouldn’t want it to be, much as they love the Power of Myth. Lorelai divests her entire life into Rory’s success; the town of Stars Hollow wants Rory to spirit out of their small town and Be Great; Rory’s grandparents expect her to follow in Richard’s footsteps and also carry out their orphaned dreams for Lorelai. And then the Palladinos choose little things that further this: Lane doesn’t ever leave Stars Hollow; Paris doesn’t get into Harvard but Rory does; Luke interrogates any boy that comes near Rory because no one is good enough. (I confess, I’m charmed into forgiving the last one.)

It’s much too much to put onto one character and leave unaddressed!!! It’s also why some audience members just really hate Rory, in a really unfortunate knife-twist on an otherwise-winsome main character. They hate the unwillingness of the narrative to acknowledge this very obvious dark and specific underside to Rory’s specialness, and the unwillingness of people within the narrative to name this very obvious dark and specific underside about Rory. But to paraphrase Jessica Rabbit: she’s just DRAWN THAT WAY!

Rory’s storylines never really confront the idea that she has had FAR too many unrealistic expectations put on her by literally everyone that’s ever existed in her life, and what it might mean if she doesn’t live up to them. What does it mean if she’s not Christiane Amanpour? What does it mean if she’s scared of disappointing people? What does it mean if she’s trying to live up to other people’s standards rather than examining what she really wants?

The Palladinos completely ignore this, and simultaneously give Rory multiple meltdowns (cheating with Dean, being cowed by Mitchum Huntzberger, stealing a boat, quitting Yale, an aimless/struggling career) and they never QUITE dig into the complete dark and specific issue at the core of Rory’s character construction... which just exacerbates the Rory hate. Rory has no self-awareness; the writers give her no self-awareness; we go in circles, and every few years there’s a slew of thinkpieces about how selfish and awful Rory is.

What makes it worse is that those questions outlined above are essentially applicable for two other women on the show: Lane Kim, and Lorelai Gilmore II, herself. Lane, like Rory, doesn’t quite bust through and answer them wholly. Lorelai, however, comes into the show having already answered them, years before, when she was a headstrong and tenacious teenager. The idea that neither Rory, her actual daughter, nor Lane, her spiritual inheritor of Parental Disapproval, are ever able to grapple with those concepts in a real way, and blossom into self-defined adulthood the way that Lorelai did is maybe the bottom line on where Gilmore Girls went “wrong.” Lorelai’s legacy is not that she’s hyperverbal, loves junk food, and got pregnant young. It’s that she rejected the expectations of her forebearers and carved out a place in the world for herself by her own definition, for better or for worse. It’s why Lorelai comes out of the narrative like a Super Mom, when in fact she’s still just as deeply flawed as Emily or Rory, and why Stars Hollow is overall magical and cherished despite it serving as a small-town hometown for Rory to leave behind. And it’s why A Year in the Life was SO satisfying for Emily Gilmore, because she proved it’s never too late to answer those questions and break through to the other side. Perhaps we’ll get enough revivals to see the same happen for Rory, and for Lane.

But enough dust about Rory. I think, after all this nitpicking, there were two options for the best way to have handled Lane Kim after Rory went off to college:

1. Give her a backdoor pilot and spinoff to Band Dreams NYC. Which, of course, was not in the Palladinos’ control, so, y’know, fine.

2. Keep Lane in Stars Hollow and give her a chance to answer those questions about self-definition and live out a few years of Lorelai-like hard-but-happy independence (and better sex) before saddling her with Zach and two babies (if you MUST). Bonus points if she moves in with Lorelai and they bond over being fundamentally disappointing to your parents and also missing Rory. A very good obvious choice.

Secret option 3. Just let Lane move to New Haven and live with Rory and Paris off-campus, and give me the goddamn roommate comedy of my dreams. Honestly this is what they should’ve done. Forget everything I said. This is my answer.

Tiny footnote: I cannot BELIEVE, that after twenty years, I am just now realizing how on-the-nose it is that Lorelai escaped from the clutches of New Haven and started a new life for herself at a place called INDEPENDENCE INN. Truly, it was right there in front of me and I didn’t even notice. This oversight might weaken the integrity of the thousand-paragraph essay I rattled off above...