#gonna clear out the boxes now n maybe hunt for something else

[sadlazzle]

well it only took 2 fuckin years but i FINALLY finished my shield shiny dream team hunt !! shiny beldum professor x hatched in 120 eggs exactly. tbh all but one of them were rlly decent n short hunts, i think only anubis and mulder went over 300, and mulder was only 308

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Blood Ties Chapter 18

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mention of injuries; sexual themes; illness

A/N: I know I say this almost every time but this chapter is very lackluster and not my best. I had some major writers block and I struggled to get this done to the point where I was ready to give up altogether. I knew where I wanted to go, but words just weren’t happening. Hopefully, now that I’m past this part, it will be easier. Thank you for reading. I’m so sorry for the subpar work. 😢

You were actually a good patient, following Hershel’s recommendations by staying in bed, drinking more water, and not skipping or sharing meals. Daryl, to your surprise, returned to the room just a while later with a plastic bowl of some tasteless stew Carol had made. You didn’t complain, the woman always did the best she could. They had run out of any seasonings or herbs and with the cold weather, it was unlikely you’d find anything growing. 

“Ya need anything?” Daryl asked. You regarded him as he stood at the foot of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck while avoiding looking at you. 

“No, I’m okay.” You took another bite, eyes following him. He retrieved his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, heading for the door. “Where’re you going?”

“Gonna try an’ hunt. S’cold as fuck out there but maybe I can manage some rabbit.” He shrugged halfheartedly. You hummed and stirred your stew until you heard the sound of the doorknob turning. 

“Daryl?” You blurted out. 

“Yeah?” He still wasn’t looking at you. You could feel the difference in the atmosphere. It wasn’t hostile, just uncomfortable. 

“Please don’t disappear.” You meant it in more ways than one, though you weren’t sure if he would pick up on the entirety of the request. Please don’t leave us. Please don’t hide away. Please just come back. 

“I won’t.” And then he was gone. He left the door slightly ajar, in case you needed something. 

Daryl didn’t lie aside from his constant use of ‘I’m fine’ when he was always so clearly not. So, you knew he’d be back. He wasn’t just going hunting. He was going to clear his head. You knew that because it’s what you would do, were you able to seek refuge in the woods safely. You missed hunting, the safety and comfort of the trees surrounding you. The stillness and quiet sounds that provided much needed calm in times of overwhelming chaos. You wanted to believe that you would feel it again, but you would have a newborn in a few weeks. A little person that would rely on your constant presence. Maybe those days were over for you. 

Daryl wanted more. He had made that clear. He wasn’t going to run away from the newness of what you had both expressed you were seeking. He needed time. It was fresh and formidable. You weren’t sure of his past experiences with relationships or perhaps even lack thereof, but it was clearly overwhelming for him. 

Especially since you had proclaimed to love him. 

That had shaken him. You could have kicked yourself for burdening him with that information. It wasn’t the right time. He had only just accepted that you meant more to him than you could have ever hoped and you just had to go and complicate it. You could only hope that it wasn’t so much that he’d change his mind. 

Rick had taken Glenn and Maggie to rummage through some nearby homes and a small town, returning with a bottle of meds for you that was about a third full. They had managed several cans of vegetables, two bags of rice, and a box of angel hair pasta. It wasn’t much but it would keep the group from starvation. 

You managed most of the stew, getting out of bed to join everyone else downstairs. Hershel had been apprehensive until you immediately stretched out on the couch and wrapped up in a blanket to continue resting without being trapped in isolation. The silence upstairs had been too much, the voices of fear and doubt in your head speaking too loudly. 

“How are you feeling, young lady?” The old man asked. He checked your stitches, used a stethoscope to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, and felt around on your belly, chuckling when he was continuously kicked at each disturbance. “Someone’s lively this evening.”

“Yeah, they’re tap dancing on my bladder but I don’t—” you trailed off and looked out the window. You had needed to pee since coming downstairs but didn’t feel safe going without Daryl anymore. It almost made you nauseous how dependent you’d become. Always the damsel in distress, the wimpy princess who couldn’t do anything for herself. 

“Things change when you find yourself in your condition.” You slowly brought your attention back to Hershel. The veterinarian was wise, had proven to be so back at the farm. Not always reasonable—as a barn full of walkers had shown—but wise, nonetheless. “You’re accustomed to living a certain way, taking care of yourself. And then there’s suddenly this little person depending on you to keep them safe. It’s not always easy to make that transition.” He gently rolled down your shirt and pulled the blanket up over you. “I could sense from the day I met you that you were a free spirit. You didn’t always want to listen. I’ve watched you shift from a woman who took care of herself by any means necessary to a woman who would do anything to protect her child. There’s no shame in that and the rewards will be sweeter than anything you’ve ever known before.” Hershel stood, knees cracking. With a gentle smile, he patted your shoulder. “You’ll see.”

You returned the smile, rubbing a hand over the swell of your belly as the old man took his leave. “He’s right, Thumper. You’re worth it.” Glancing back out the window, Daryl was trudging tiredly toward the house with two rabbits. You smiled, resting your head on the back of the couch to watch him interact with Rick. “You’re both worth it.”

“Whatcha doin’ outta bed?” Daryl was pulling off his crossbow, watching you warily. You wiggled until you were sitting up against the couch arm. 

“Don’t worry. I asked Hershel. As long as I rest, I’m okay.” He watched you for a moment longer before giving a nod, disappearing to prep the rabbits for cooking the next day. Carol smiled at him in passing. You couldn’t see his face but heard him grunt in acknowledgment. Maybe one day you’d be fluent in the complicated language of Daryl. 

“How’re you feeling?” A bottle of water was handed to you. You hadn’t even realized you were thirsty until you were removing the cap and tilting it to your lips. 

After several generous gulps, you lowered the water and sighed contentedly. “I didn’t know I needed that.” 

“Well, you’ve been—” she turned her head toward where Daryl had walked away, looking back to you with an arched brow, “preoccupied.”

Your face warmed and you ducked your head. “Is it obvious?”

“Well, I’m not deaf.” She chuckled, patting your knee. 

“You heard?” You blanched, knowing you had grown impossibly redder. 

“I think everyone did.” 

“Oh god.” Mortified was an understatement. You were suddenly trying to recall the moments they could have heard but only succeeded in encouraging a sudden wave of arousal between your thighs. Well, that’s not helping. “Don’t say anything to—they can’t tease him. He’ll never—”

Carol reached out to rub your upper arm, shaking her head. “No one is saying anything. We’re all just glad some of the tension around here has eased.” She meant Rick and Lori, that wasn’t hard to figure out. 

You had barely opened your mouth to reply when Rick came in, moving quickly but quietly. 

“The fire.” He whispered harshly. You sat up straight, ignoring the pull of the stitches, and looked out the window, the scene becoming clear once the reflected light from the flames was doused. 

You managed to duck your head just as a walker passed by the the glass, its arm dragging across the surface with an eerie scraping. A myriad of shadows danced across the wall, your wide eyes following them until Daryl was crouched in front of you with a finger to his lips. His crossbow was by his foot while his hands held your boots and jacket. 

“Be quick.” He whispered so quietly that he may have only mouthed the words. You nodded and took the items, pulling on your boots without tying them and shrugging on your jacket. “Stay low.” It was hard not to smile, even with danger lurking so closely, when he wrapped his hand around yours. You let him guide you, walking as low as you could manage. 

Carol was coming down the stairs, your bag on one shoulder and her own on the other. Daryl let go of your hand to grab his bag on the way to the back door. Everyone had already gathered, Rick falling in behind Carol. The archer held up a hand to have you wait further back while he checked outside. 

“Here.” Carol whispered from your right. You glanced at her only to find her looking down, your knife held out to you. “I’ve got your gun and holsters in your bag.” Nodding your thanks, your hand wrapped around the handle and you brought the weapon in close, meeting Daryl’s eyes for a fleeting moment before he cracked open the door and peered outside. 

“S’clear. Go ‘round the right. Straight to the cars.” He began to wave everyone through, catching your hand as you passed. “Stay close to Carol. Be right behind ya.”

“Okay.” You agreed quickly and followed the other woman out. Only the pale moonlight illuminated the snowy ground as the lot of you bobbed and weaved your way around the herd. You couldn’t hear steps behind you but that wasn’t uncommon with Daryl. Even with the extra weight you carried, your own footfalls were light. 

It was close to impossible to see the dead and with the symphony of moans and snarls echoing from all around, you barely had time to stop and take a step back before the walker crossed into your path. Knife ready, you took down the woman with ease, lowering with the body to keep the noise to a minimum. 

She looked to have been a pretty lady, maybe in her thirties. Her blonde hair was missing in patches and her skin was torn and gaping in places. She was sporting a t-shirt that read No. 1 Mom.

You let that simmer after Daryl pulled you to your feet, urging you to resume the trek to the van. It was within view now, with only three walkers circling. Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog dispatched them quickly enough, creating an open path straight to the vehicle. 

Twenty minutes on the road was long enough to lose yourself in consideration of the woman you’d put down. It wasn’t hard to imagine yourself meeting a similar fate, maybe forced to bear witness to the grizzly death of your child or dying without knowing what became of them. What if she had been the one to kill her kid? What if it was an infant, a toddler? Unable to understand why this person who was meant to protect them was causing them pain?

You cried for her. You cried for the child. Silent tears that you didn’t attempt to hinder while you sought out the comforting rumble of Daryl’s bike just ahead. Even if you did fall victim to the dead, he’d never allow your baby to be hurt. You could take comfort in that. As long as one of you was breathing, your child would never know harm. 

The weather only grew more unforgiving as the days wore on, chipping away at any shreds of hope that were managing to survive in your little group. Another home found and lost. Freezing nights huddled against Daryl in the backseat of the van. A great deal of the blankets had been sacrificed when fleeing the dead. Of course, you, Lori, and Carl were given the heaviest ones that remained. Daryl would wrap you snugly and then hold you tight, claiming that alone would keep him warm enough. Apparently he still thought you were stupid. 

Food was dwindling. Once again, you were arguing with the archer about eating meager portions so that you could have more. If each bite wasn’t worth more than gold had been valued in the old world, you would have surely thrown many a bowl at him. 

His hunting trips grew longer and longer, now gone for no less than two days at a time. Measures were in place to ensure he knew how to find the group should the need to flee become necessary in his absence. Still, you worried. He manged to bring back more, usually rabbits but had lucked out with a small doe on the last excursion. With an extra few runs, enough salt was procured for the majority of the meat to be dried into jerky. It was sorted into each of your bags so it was sure to not be left behind if you had to leave quickly. The rest of the meat was prepared into a stew that could be reheated for a couple of days. 

It was nice to eat well for once, surrounded by full bellies and sleepy faces. The one face you wanted to see was absent, however. Daryl was on first watch at the small ranch style home. There were no fences but the land was open for a good distance before the treeline. Walkers would be spotted and the group could move on before the dead even made it halfway to the house. 

You bundled up, pulling up your hood, meaning to sit outside with him for a while. You grabbed one of the smaller blankets on your way out. Whether he admitted it or not, the long sleeve flannel under his vest was not enough to keep the frigid temperatures at bay. He was coughing into his elbow as you passed over the threshold, noticing his stew, long cold, was hardly touched. Pointing it out would only lead to another argument and at 28 weeks pregnant in an apocalypse, you just didn’t have the energy to spare. 

He was scrubbing a hand roughly over his face when you draped the fabric over his shoulders. For once, he didn’t argue, simply nodding while watching you move his bowl aside to sit down. 

He cleared his throat, his voice quiet and raspy. “Weren’t that hungry.” 

“I can heat it for you later if you change your mind.” Shoving your hands into your pockets, you leaned onto his shoulder and watched the gentle flurries pepper down from above.

“Ain’t gonna nag me?” 

“Nope.” You smiled fondly to yourself. “You’re stubborn as ten mules and this baby has been kicking me non stop for two days. I don’t have the energy to attempt and force feed their father.” He nudged his shoulder upward, jarring a giggle out of you. “We do need to find you a coat. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

“Your tits ain’t never cold.”

Rolling your head on his shoulder, you feigned offense. “Why, Daryl Dixon. Did you just call me a witch?”

“If the broomstick fits.” 

That coaxed a startled laugh out of you. “Huh.” You stared at him a moment longer and then settled back into watching the snow. 

“What?” He leaned a little to angle his head in order to see your face.

“Thought you’d misplaced your sense of humor, that’s all. Maybe you found it while your head was so far up your ass.”

“Think you're funny?” He huffed, clearly not annoyed. It was refreshing to just talk like two people in a relationship on a cold, snowy night. Maybe you could pretend the world hadn’t ended for at least a moment. 

“Oh, I know I am. It’s part of my irresistible charm.” You retorted cheerily. Daryl made a pfft sound and joined you in watching the snow. It was almost hypnotic; the peace of the moment drawing you in until you were sure you’d fall asleep. 

When Daryl coughed again, you startled and sat up straight. He had turned away and buried his face in the crook of his elbow, muffling the sound to the best of his ability. 

“Are you okay?” It was hard to keep the concern out of your tone, terrified he’d withdraw from you. He had been trying, the evidence of his efforts displayed in his own ways. 

Over the last month, you’d never felt closer to him. He had found a truck, loading the bike in the back so that you would be with him anytime moving was necessary. There wasn’t much time for intimacy, not sexually, though he’d made you cum on his fingers a few times while the others laid behind him, sound asleep and none the wiser. He seemed to enjoy your company, especially while on watch. He didn’t speak much but when he did, he was soft and attentive. He would watch you in silence, tinkering with his crossbow or prepping a kill to be cooked. He still agitated easily, but he was trying. You couldn’t ask for more than that. 

“M’fine. Just a cold.”

It made sense. He was out in the elements more than anyone. He wasn’t eating or sleeping nearly enough. His body could only take so much abuse. 

“We have the venison, Daryl. Why don’t you stay in for a few days?” Pulling your hands from your pockets, you dragged the sleeves down to cover them. How did the man stand it without proper clothing?

“Could always use more. That jerky ain’t gonna last forever an’ the stew will keep a day or two.” The flickering glow from the lighter’s flame cast a soft hue across his face, gone too quickly for you to truly admire. Pulling the cigarette from his lips, he turned his head to blow the smoke away from you. Such a small gesture, but it made your heart flutter. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that, I guess.” In truth, you couldn’t. Food was food and it was necessary. “Maybe I could go with you. You know I can hunt and—”

“Nah. No way.” He barely got the words out before coughing again. “You’re stayin’ here with ev’ryone else.”

“I can help and you know it.” You weren’t angry, but still found it difficult to keep the bitterness out of your words.

“Know ya can. Don’t mean ya should.” He took another draw from his smoke, exhaling while rubbing at his throat. Was he even aware he was doing that? “Best way ya can help me is stayin’ here an’ keepin’ the two’a ya safe.” It was dark but you could still see the pink beginning to cover his cheeks. “Get inside ‘fore ya get sick.”

You smiled slyly, crossing your arms. “I’ll go inside if you go too.” He turned his head toward you, brow drawn inward. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, angry, or amused. Either way, you tipped up your chin defiantly. “Someone else can take watch. You’re leaving to hunt tomorrow and need to sleep.”

Those blue eyes narrowed, the flare of the cigarette giving them the illusion of burning like the hottest flame. He never looked away, exhaling from the corner of his mouth to keep the smoke away from you. “You’re a brat.” 

“Yep.” You grinned. 

“Fine. Jesus, go inside. Be there in a minute.” He grumbled something under his breath and continued his smoke, shaking his head after looking away from you. With a triumphant HA, you grabbed the dilapidated railing by the steps and pulled yourself to your feet, cradling your belly to bend enough for your lips to press against his cheek. “Pain in my ass.”

He made you cum twice that night but not before denying you for an agonizing amount of time. 

“This baby is definitely a Dixon. Doesn’t ever stop moving.” 

Carol chuckled, stirring the stew she had just removed from the fire in the other room. “You’re gonna miss it once they’re born, I promise.” Her smile faded, a morose air encasing her. As your baby moved under your hand once again, a pang of guilt came with it. 

“Oh, Carol, I’m sorry.”

The silver-haired woman rarely spoke of her daughter anymore, but that wasn’t to say that the pain ever left her eyes. There was a permanent sadness etched there. Now two women she traveled with, survived alongside, were pregnant. It was a slap in the face from the universe. 

But Carol? She handled it with a grace you weren’t sure you would ever possess. 

“Nothing to apologize for, silly.” She reached for the hand that lay across your rounded middle and squeezed it. You smiled solemnly as she went back to stirring the day’s meal. “Daryl should be back today. He never stays out more than two days.” She chuckled quietly. “I think he only does that much out of necessity. He’d likely stay right here with you if he had a choice.”

“I think he leaves for two days cause he needs a break from me.” You mused, plucking a piece of venison right from the pot. Carol shot you a sarcastic look of disapproval but refrained from scolding you. “I’m not easy to get along with at the best of times. Forget being in a relationship with me while I’m 92 weeks pregnant.”

“So you did take that step.” When you blinked at her with wide eyes, she shrugged. “He’s not exactly forthcoming with details regarding his personal life but sightings have been noted of cheek kissing and even a little hand holding.”

“Glenn never could keep his mouth shut.” 

“Don’t worry. He’s been informed that if Daryl ever hears him, he’s likely to lose a limb. He’s aware of the dangers.” While the two of you laughed, Maggie stuck her head in the door. 

“Daryl’s back.” She waggled her eyebrows at you, prompting a one-fingered gesture in return. “Real classy, Y/N.”

“Hey, I am the perfect representation of a lady.” You winked at Carol and squeezed her upper arm before meeting Maggie in the doorway, bumping her with your hip. You quietly released a tense breath once out of sight. It was getting late. Try as you might, you couldn’t help but worry when it took him a little longer to get back. 

Grabbing your coat, you quickly pulled it on and zipped it. There was still plenty of room for your growing belly. It should last you the remainder of the pregnancy. The snow was at least four inches deep, quite the difference from when the archer had left two days prior. Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were out scavenging for the usual food and medicine, but you had cornered them before they left and made them promise to find a warm coat for Daryl. 

The wind was frigid in the evening hours, the temperature steadily dropping. Your face stung from only seconds of exposure when you walked down the steps to meet him. At first glance, everything seemed fine. It wasn’t until he was closer that you noticed his unsteady gait, the way he was dragging the string of rabbits through the white powder behind him. 

“Hey.” You called over the gusts, smiling at him when he slowly looked up. He didn’t return the expression but he wasn’t a teeth and gums smiler anyway. That much you could brush aside without concern. It was the wet, barking cough into the crook of his elbow that shifted your concern to something just short of panic. “Daryl?”

“Got some rabbits.” He croaked, walking right past you and into the house. You followed on his heels, leaning forward to relieve him of the four animals before he could object. He fixed you with a sharp glare but you only smiled and backed toward the kitchen. 

“Just gonna put these in there. We can clean them together in just a bit.” There was no time for either of the other women to question your hurry. You deposited the rabbits on the counter by the old sink and exited just as quickly as you had entered. 

Daryl was coughing again when you returned, a painful sounding hack that jarred his entire body. His chest seemed to rattle with each breath, his movements sluggish while he removed his crossbow from his back. 

“Hey, are you okay?” You moved closer but still gave him several feet of distance. 

“M’fine.” He gestured vaguely around his upper torso. “S’just this fuckin’ cold.”

“Right.” You answered, watching him remove his poncho and vest. He must have sensed your eyes on him, an irritated glance thrown your way. 

“What?” He snapped. 

“You look like shit and sound even worse.” Your feet were propelling you toward him but he somehow managed to sidestep around you. “Daryl, hang on.”

“Ain’t in the mood for your shit, Y/N.” There was a sharp retort on the tip of your tongue that you swallowed when he began to cough again and staggered to catch himself against the wall. 

“Daryl?” You were at his side in an instant, your arm winding around this back to help support him. You couldn’t miss the heat you felt beneath his shirt. “Fuck, you’re hotter than a jalapeño’s ass!”

“Told ya, m’fine.” He hissed, probably attempting menacing but only managing a weak rasp. 

“You’re not fine, Daryl.” You held on tighter when he tried to shrug you off, a good thing since his legs buckled a moment later and took you both down. You managed to control the fall, ending with the two of you on your knees. Daryl coughed harshly, only managing to stay upright with your support. “Maggie! Maggie, get Hershel!”

“What’s wrong?” The eldest Greene ran into the room, followed by Carol. “Shit.”  One look and she disappeared, yelling for her father while Carol came around to Daryl’s other side. 

“Ain’t—no reason—for all this fussin’.”

“Shut up, Daryl. Daryl?” Your eyes met his briefly, fear and panic flashing through them before they rolled up and he slumped forward against you. “Daryl!”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Everbody Loves a Clown | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Word Count: 5956

Warnings: Canon violence, canon gore, coping with parental death, clowns lol

A/N: Special treat since the first episode was kinda short! Happy reading, everyone!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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The only light in the middle of the clearing in the woods came from John’s wrapped, burning body. You stood wordlessly between Dean and Sam, watching as the pyre burned to ash. Dean stared silently while his brother fought tears.

It felt so odd to have spent so much time looking for John— a man you'd only met in passing during a hunt a little over a year ago— to now be standing in front of his burning corpse. It almost felt anticlimactic if you detached emotion completely from your situation.

On the very real and guttural side of things, though, you knew that having spent so little time with John after looking for him for almost a year was going to take a horrible toll on his boys, especially your Dean.

Sam spoke for the first time in hours. “Before he.. before... did he say anything to you? About anything?”

Dean refused to look at you or his brother, but said, “No. Nothing.”

An obvious lie.

***

Over a week after John’s funeral, you were watching Dean work on his car at Bobby’s. Bobby had been nice enough to let the three of you stay with him while Dean got the Impala back in working order.

Selfishly, every time you looked at Dean, you wanted to come right out with your feelings. Although, he was grieving, and you did not want to take advantage of his vulnerability. You wouldn't want your relationship to be born out of such a terrible tragedy.

However, you would continue to be there for him however he needed, even if that meant sitting next to him in the hot sun silently for hours and handing him a wrench every once in a while. You knew better than to ask if he was okay. You’d lost your father, too and knew he wouldn’t be okay for quite some time.

At first, he’d barely tolerated you sitting next to him. He fought you on everything you tried to do for him, but you got him to shut up after a few days. You knew he knew what you were playing at, and you could tell he appreciated it nonetheless.

Sam, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as well-fortified against his emotions. You could hear him crying in the next room almost nightly, and it broke your heart. But you would rather Sam cry than build himself up against negative feelings the way his brother did. He was more into the touchy-feely-hug-it-out therapy style, and you were more than happy to give that to him. These boys needed you to be strong for them, and you would happily do so for as long as they needed. 

“How's the car coming along?” Sam asked, approaching you and Dean, who was under his car. You sat next to where his boots stuck out with a tool box in your lap.

“Slow,” Dean responded.

“Yeah? Need any help?”

“What, you under a hood? I'll pass.”

“Need anything else, then?”

Dean rolled himself out from under the car and stood up above you. You looked between Dean’s face, set in hard lines, and his brother’s puppy-dog stare. “Stop it, Sam.”

“Stop what?” the younger brother asked innocently.

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise,” Dean scoffed.

“Alright, Dean, it's just—” Sam took a deep breath. “We've been at Bobby's for over a week now, and you haven't brought up Dad once.”

“You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.” You knew the bite in Dean’s voice was all a mask.

“Don't patronize me, Dean,” Sam returned. “Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car.”

“Sam, let it go—” you tried, but Dean continued to talk over you.

“Revenge, huh?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it— oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car.” He got back down under it.  

“Well, we've got something, alright?” Sam crouched down next to you and handed you a cell phone. “It’s what I came out here to tell you. This is one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.”

Dean pushed himself out from under the car again and sat up next to you as you played the voicemail. “John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.”

“That message is four months old,” Sam explained.

“Dad saved that chick's message for four months?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

Sam nodded.

“Who’s Ellen?” you asked. “Any mention of her in your dad’s journal?”

“No. But I ran a trace on her phone number, and I got an address.”

***

You and the boys ended up taking one of Bobby’s beat-up minivans to the Roadhouse Saloon; the address Ellen’s voicemail led to. 

“This is humiliating. I feel like a fuckin’ soccer mom!” Dean groaned as he parked the car.

“It’s the only one Bobby had running, dude,” you reminded him. You followed the boys into the purposefully dilapidated-looking building.  

“Hello? Anybody here?” Dean asked loudly. No response ever came. All you could hear was a fly buzzing and a light popping. You caught sight of a man passed out on the pool table facing away from you. 

“Hey, buddy?” Sam said. He turned back to you and Dean. “I'm guessing that isn't Ellen.” He headed into a back room to look around. You walked a little ahead of Dean, only turning around when you heard him say. “Oh god, please let that be a rifle.”

You whipped out your gun and turned to see a pretty petite blonde holding a cocked rifle to Dean’s back. “No, I'm just real happy to see you. Don't move.”

“Hey!” you said. She looked to you, but didn’t move her gun from Dean’s back. “You shoot him, and you’re dead,” you told her.

“Well, he moves, and he’s dead,” she replied.

“Ladies, Ladies, please,” Dean smirked. “You know, you should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back. Because it makes it real easy to do…” He turned around fluidly and grabbed the rifle. “That.”

The blonde punched him square in the nose and took back the rifle. You cocked your pistol, catching her attention. 

“Sam! A little help, please!” Dean said. 

“Sorry, Dean, I can't right now. I'm a... little tied up.” Sam walked out with his hands on his head and a shotgun pointed at the back of him. An older woman walked out holding it. “Sam? Dean? Winchester?” she said.

“Yeah…?” Dean said.

“Son of a bitch,” the woman muttered.

The blonde spoke up next. “Mom, you know these guys?”

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys,” she answered, lowering the gun and laughing. “Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo.”

Jo lowered her rifle as well. “Hey,” she smiled.

“Oh, we’re just supposed to be cool now?” you remarked, still pointing your gun at the blonde.

“(Y/N), cool it,” Dean warned. You did as told and slowly lowered your gun, still stand-offish. 

“You're not gonna hit me again, are you?” Dean asked Jo. 

Ellen handed him a small towel filled with ice. 

“Thanks. You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?” he asked as he took it from her.

“Well, the demon, of course,” she stated as if it was obvious. “I heard he was closing in on it.”

“What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?” Dean snarked. “I mean, who- who are you? How do you know about all this?”

The brunette scoffed. “Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.”

“Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?”

She looked down and softened her voice. “You'd have to ask him that.”

“So why exactly do we need your help?” Dean questioned.

Now you wanted Dean to cool it. “Relax, man,” you warned.

“Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if—” Ellen stopped suddenly. “He didn't send you.” She looked frantically between Dean and Sam. “He's all right, isn't he?”

Dean refused to look at her, but Sam answered instead. “No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess.”

Ellen looked sad. “I’m so sorry.”

“It's okay. We're all right,” Dean replied.

“Really? I know how close you and your dad were.”

“Really, lady, I'm fine,” he growled.

“Dean, relax,” you urged him quietly.

Sam continued the conversation with Ellen. “So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get.”

“Well, we can't. But Ash will,” she smirked.

“Who's Ash?” you asked.

“Ash!” she called.

You turned to the man on the pool table as he jerked up and flailed up. “What? It closin' time?”

Sam snorted. “That’s Ash?”

Jo hummed. “Mm-hmm. He's a genius.”

You looked at her, skeptical. 

“Sit, please,” Ellen said, and she and her daughter moved around the bar opposite you while you slapped a folder down in front of Ash. He sat across the bar from you.

“You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie,” Dean remarked.

Ash grinned drunkenly. “I like you.”

“Thanks,” the older brother smiled, seeming slightly confused by the drunk.

“Just give him a chance,” Jo urged.

You opened the folder and pushed it toward Ash. “That’s about a year’s worth of John’s work. See if you can make heads or tails of it.”

Ash shook his head as he looked through the papers. “Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this.”

“Our dad could,” said Sam.

“There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean, damn!” Ash’s cadence made you giggle. “They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms— You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun.”

“Can you track it or not?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me—” he thought for a moment— “fifty-one hours.” He got up to leave, but Dean stopped him. 

“I, uh, I dig the haircut.”

He waved his hair around dramatically. “All business up front, party in the back.”

Jo walked around Dean, flirting a little. You could’ve killed her. 

He offered Jo a polite smile, but you apparently were not doing a good job of hiding your jealousy.

“Easy, tiger,” Dean chuckled, shooting you a smirk. 

You could practically feel Jo checking Dean out. 

“She’s looking at you like a hunk of meat,” you replied, talking through your teeth. 

“What, you mean, like you do?” he replied, smirking.

“I do not!” You paused at his deadpan look. “I mean, sometimes, maybe, quite possibly, but not right now.”

He nodded. “And you know, I, uh, I appreciate that.”

“Do you really? Sounded like you had a gun to your head when you said that,” you giggled.

He looked back at you sincerely. “You know I do.”

"I do just have... one question, though," you said, unable to stop the words coming out of your mouth due to the sudden, subtle flirting coming from Dean.

He nodded for you to continue.

"I'm assuming you pieced together what I was gonna tell you back at the hospital," you trailed off.

Dean nodded again, the ends of his lips tugging upward.

"You're not... freaked out?"

He shook his head, still smiling. "Opposite of freaked out."

You could feel your cheeks heating, and you looked down at the bar in front of you. Dean's chuckle was music to your ears despite the way it spurred on your embarrassment.

Then, Sam approached you and Dean. “A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt.”

“Yeah. So?” Dean asked.

“So, I told her we'd check it out.”

***

Dean continued to grumble about the “stupid minivan” the whole way to your next hunt. Sam did research as you scribbled in your journal. Helping the boys was a task you wouldn't give up for anything, but it was beginning to bring up some negative emotions and memories for you. Journaling was helping to calm the storm inside you.

“You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean scoffed.

“Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually,” Sam responded.

“And this family was at some carnival that night?”

“Right, right. The, uh, Cooper Carnivals.”

“So, how do we know it’s not some psycho in a clown suit?” you piped up.

“Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course,” Sam explained.

“Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?” Dean mocked.

“Oh, give me a break,” the brunet muttered.

You smiled but refused to make fun of him, because “everyone is afraid of something.” 

“You’re scared of clowns?” you asked.

“Yeah, he still busts out crying whenever he sees Ronald McDonald on the television,” Dean told you.

“Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying,” Sam deadpanned.

“Planes crash!”

“And apparently clowns kill!”

"Boys—!"

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean mumbled. “So these types of murders, they ever happen before?”

“Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales,” the younger Winchester explained.

“It’s weird, though, spirits are usually bound to specific locales, y’know,” you said. “So how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?”

“Cursed object, maybe,” Dean suggested. “Spirit attaches itself to something and the, uh, carnival carries it around with them.”

“Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well, blame Sam. It was his idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.” Dean threw a look to his brother.

“So?”

“It's just… not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

You eyed Sam strangely, too.

The younger Winchester softened. “I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do.”

“What Dad would have wanted?” Dean turned his face to Sam.

“Yeah. So?” Sam challenged.

“Nothin'.”

***

You and the boys decided to join the carnival after the second family had been murdered to get a closer look at the happenings during the carnival. “Friends close, freak-shows closer,” Dean had said.

When you entered yet another tent in search of the show’s organizer. You found a man throwing knives at a target; all landing near but not quite on the bulls-eye. 

“Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper; have you seen him around?” the older brother asked.

The man turned around and pulled off his sunglasses. “What is that, some kind of joke?” 

“Oh. God, I'm— I'm sorry,” Dean said.

“You think I wouldn't give my teeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?”

Dean whispered to you, “Wanna give me a little help here?”

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Hey man, is there a problem?” a voice interrogated from behind you. You turned to see a very short man in a red cape.

“Yeah, this guy hates blind people,” the knife-thrower said.

“No, I don't, I—” Dean’s gorgeous smile was doing nothing to help him in this situation.

“Hey, buddy, what's your problem?” the short man scowled.

“Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding.”

“Little?! You son of a bitch!” The man went to charge Dean.

“No, no, no, no! I'm just— could somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?”

You and Sam snickered.

“Please?” you asked. 

The short man looked up at you, and his gaze softened. “Sure, sweetheart, follow me.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, looking back at the boys. 

Dean’s jaw was clenched for a reason you weren’t quite sure of. When you asked, he said, “Just don’t like anybody else callin’ you that.”

You smiled lopsidedly. He could be really sweet when he wanted to be.

Mr. Cooper met you at the door of his office and invited you in. “You three picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat.”

You looked at the available seating options, and Dean motioned for you to take the normal of the two chairs. You obliged, and Dean stood behind you, forcing Sam to sit in the obnoxious pink chair with a giant clown face on it. He sat on the chair hesitantly and refused to relax into it. 

“We've got all kinds of local trouble,” Mr. Cooper continued.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you three ever worked the circuit before?”

“Yes, sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas,” Sam responded.

“Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? ANS men?” 

“Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess.”

Mr. Cooper eyed your group strangely. “You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?”

“Nope,” Dean grinned. “But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady.”

“You see that picture? That's my daddy.” The showrunner pointed to a black and white picture on the wall of a man in a fedora in front of a ferris wheel.

“You guys could be twins,” you pointed out. 

Mr. Cooper smiled thoughtfully. “He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Till they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess. You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else.

"But you three? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Marry this one, maybe.” The man gestured to you. “Have two point five kids. Live regular.”

Dean went to say something, but Sam leaned forward, his eyes serious. “Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this.”

You turned to him skeptically, as did Dean. 

Mr. Cooper told the three of you to return in a few hours for training, which you were a little surprised by the suddenness of. 

“I guess they really are desperate,” you said as the three of you left the carnival holding your uniforms to go change into. 

“Were you serious?” Dean asked his brother.

“What?” Sam furrowed his brows at him.

“That whole, uh, I-don't-want-to-go-back-to-school thing. Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?” Dean pressed further at his younger brother’s hesitance. “Sam?” 

“I don't know,” he replied.

“You don't know? I thought that once the demon was dead, and the fat lady sings ,that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State,” Dean deadpanned.

“I'm having second thoughts,” was all the younger brother answered with.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think. Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job.”

Dean stopped Sam. “Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted? You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam.”

“Since he died, okay? Do you have a problem with that?”

Dean’s voice hardened but remained sarcastic. “Naw, I don't have a problem at all.”

***

Later that day, you returned with the boys wearing a bright red “Cooper Carnival” jacket to begin your “janitorial job.” You were waiting for Sam or Dean to call you to tell you when to meet up with them for further investigation.

Before you had gotten a call from either, you noticed a little girl tugging on her mother’s jacket. “Mommy, look at the clown!” She pointed at something off in the distance. 

You followed her line of sight only to see nothing.

“What clown?” the mother asked. “Come on, sweetie, come on.”

You called Sam immediately. “Hey, dude. I got something.”

***

The three of you then chose to stake out the family’s home that evening. Dean had just relayed to you how the blind man overheard him calling Sam about the case and had to tell him you three were writing a book about the supernatural.

“Dean, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown,” Sam snorted.

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real,” Dean argued. He pulled a gun and cocked it. You jumped over the seat and shoved his arm down. “What are you, nuts? You’re gonna get us busted.”

“Oh, and get this,” Dean continued. “I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what.”

“What?” you and Sam asked.

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

“So you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?” Sam questioned.

“Something like that.” The older brother shook his head and sighed. “I can't believe we keep talking about clowns.”

***

You and the Winchesters had been stalking these poor people’s home for hours now. Well, you and Sam had, at least. Dean, on the other hand, was dozing in the front seat. You shook him awake when you saw a phantom clown appear at the front door.

“Dee, look,” you said. 

He hummed and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He turned and looked at you when he saw the girl leading the clown inside. 

You jumped out of the car and went through the back entrance of the house. You hid around a corner down the hallway from where the little girl and the clown were.

“Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs,” you heard the girl say. At that moment, Sam leapt out and grabbed the young girl who screamed.

Simultaneously, you shot at the clown while Dean cocked his shotgun again. “Sam, watch out!” he yelled. 

The clown leapt out the window, turning invisible as it shattered the glass of the front door.

The parents ran downstairs and began shouting at you and the brothers. You and the brothers dropped the girl and sprinted away, hearing the girl whine, “ Mommy, Daddy, they shot my clown!” as you headed out.

***

A while later, you and the brothers pulled off the side of the road and ditched the crappy van Dean had been driving you around in. You pulled the license plate off the back of the van and stuffed it in your duffel bag.

“You really think they saw our plates?” Sam asked you.

“I’m not taking any chances,” you said.

“I hate this fuckin’ thing anyway,” Dean grumbled. He began to lead you and his brother off the side of the road. “Well, one thing's for sure.”

“What?” you asked.

“We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid,” Dean responded.

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?” Sam suggested.

“I don’t know, man, I’ve never heard of a creature like that. And it’s definitely not a person. I have no idea what the hell it could be,” you huffed.

“Did it say anything in Dad's journal?” Dean asked.

Sam cleared his throat and said, “Nope,” pulling out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” you asked him.

“Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash'll know something. Hey, you think, uh, you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?” Sam smirked.

“No way,” snorted Dean.

“Then why didn't he tell us about her?” retorted Sam.

“I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out,” the older brother shrugged.

“Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?”

You chuckled, but Dean simply nodded and looked at the floor. 

Sam lowered his phone. “Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap,” Sam answered.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, god.”

“I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean started walking a little faster. “You know what, back off, alright? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam caught up with his brother easily. “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

“Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!” the older Winchester said gruffly.

“What are you talking about?” Sam questioned.

“I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late.”

“Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?”

You looked between the boys and knew Dean was handing Sam a load of bullshit. However, you decided to stow that conversation until you could get him in private.

Sam swallowed harshly, looking upset. “I'm going to call Ellen.” Sam walked a little ahead of you and Dean on the phone.

While Sam spoke to Ellen, you walked beside Dean wordlessly.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to act like I’m a bomb about to go off,” Dean said.

You looked up at him. “I’m not. I just thought you’d appreciate a little silence instead of me asking you to ‘share and care,’ as you put it.”

He nodded. “Thanks.” He intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing you to support him in that simple way. He rubbed his thumb over yours and continued to walk next to you. 

When Sam got off the phone, he turned back to you and his brother. “Wha—” He looked down at yours and Dean’s entwined hands and shook his head. “Nevermind. Rakshasa.”

“What's that?” Dean asked.

“Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited,” Sam explained.

“So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in. Why don't they just munch on the kids?”

“No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?”

“Well, that’s grotesque,” you noted.

“What else'd you find out?” Dean questioned.

“Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects.” The younger brother grimaced.

“Nice,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess.”

“Well, that makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81—”

Sam cut his brother off. “Right. Probably more before that.”

“Who do we know that worked both shows?” You raised a brow.

“Cooper?” Sam replied.

“Yup.” You thought for a moment. “That picture of his father looked just like him. Maybe it was him.”

“Well, who knows how old he is?” Sam added.

“Ellen say how to kill him?” Dean asked.

“Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass,” the brunet explained.

“I think I know where to get one of those.”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Before we go stabbing Cooper, I wanna make damn sure it’s him.”

“Oh, you're such a stickler for details, sweetheart,” the older Winchester teased you. “Alright, I'll round up the blade, you two go check if Cooper's got bed bugs.”

***

You and Sam followed instructions and went to Mr. Cooper’s trailer. Dean had left the two of you to go find the blind man. Inside the trailer, you didn’t find any bugs he was nesting on. Just a plain, old twin mattress. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” a voice called from behind you.

You wheeled around to see Mr. Cooper. “Oh, hi! Just the guy I wanted to—”

“Save it,” Mr. Cooper told you. “Get the hell out of here. Oh, and uh, you’re fired.”

You nodded. “I figured.”

You and Sam dashed out of Mr. Cooper’s trailer and over to where Dean had told you he’d be. When you arrived at the blind man’s tent, Dean stumbled out of the door.

“Holy shit, hey,” you said after he’d scared you.

“Hey.”

“So, Cooper thinks we’re Peeping Toms, but it's not him,” Sam explained.

“Yeah, so I gathered. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere.”

“Well, did you get the—”

“The brass blades? No. No, it's just been one of those days,” Dean sarcastically replied. 

“I got an idea. Come on,” Sam said. You and Dean followed him to the funhouse. As you began to go through, the door slammed behind you between you and the brothers.

“Great!” you groaned. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled, banging on the door. 

“(Y/N)! (Y/N/N), find the maze, okay?” Sam called to you.

“Okay!” you called back. You somehow stumbled your way through the maze and found the brothers. “Oh, thank god,” you sighed.

Sam broke a pipe off the organ a bit ahead of you. 

“Where is it?” you asked.

“I don't know, I mean, shouldn't we see its clothes walking around?” Dean answered. A knife flew right past your head, clipping your ear. “Fuck!”

“(Y/N)!” Sam called. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know, Sam, the thing’s invisible!” You jumped up, reached above your head, and grabbed a lever. When you pulled it down, steam poured out of the vent. 

“Sam, behind you! Behind you!” you heard Dean say. You began to run in the direction of Dean’s voice through the steam. When you arrived at him, there was a bloodied lump of clothes on the ground with a pipe sticking out from its chest. You turned to Dean who was pinned to the wall by two knives on his arm and helped him free himself.

“You okay?” he asked you. 

You nodded as you pulled the last knife out of his jacket.

“I hate funhouses,” he grumbled.

***

You sat next to Dean at Ellen’s bar, and she laid a few beers in front of you. “You kids did a hell of a job.” Ellen nodded at the brothers. “Your dad 'd be proud.”

Sam half-smiled. “Thanks.” He got up to walk over to Ash, and Jo took his place.

“So,” she cleared her throat.

‘Damn, this girl is bold,’ you thought.

“So,” you said.

She ignored you and focused on Dean. “Am I gonna see you again?”

Dean turned to her, surprised. “Do you want to?”

“I wouldn't hate it.”

You rolled your eyes and got up from your chair, heading over to Sam and Ash. You could feel Dean’s eyes on you as you walked away. You knew you had no reason to treat Jo poorly; she was just a young girl with a crush. She had no idea that you and Dean were at all involved. You truly didn’t even know if you and Dean were legitimately involved to begin with.

You noted Ash’s bizarre-looking laptop with exposed wiring and his stack of papers. “Whatcha got there, Pinky?”

He snorted at you. “I’d say I’m a little more Brain than anything, but where ya been? Been waitin’ for ya.”

“What, Ellen didn’t tell you about the clowns?” you asked.

“Clowns? What the fuck—”

You snickered as Dean walked up behind you. “You got something for us, Ash?”

“You find the demon?” Sam questioned.

Ash shook his head. “It's nowhere around. At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie.”

You laughed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig'll go off. Like a fire alarm.”

Dean reached for his laptop. “Do you mind…?”

Ash gave him a look, and Dean pulled his hand back from the keyboard. 

You smirked a little at the sight. “Ash, where did you learn to do all this?”

“M.I.T. Before I got bounced for... fighting.”

“No way!” you exclaimed.

He smirked at you and took a sip of his beer. 

“Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something?” Dean said, suggesting to you and Sam it was time to go.

“Si, si, compadre.” Ash took the beer Dean had placed down and chugged the rest of it. 

You followed the brothers to the door. Ellen stopped you before you could leave. “Hey, listen— if you kids need a place to stay I've got a couple beds out back.”

“Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish,” Dean said.

***

“So, you get Jo’s number?” you asked back at Bobby’s junkyard. You sat cross-legged on the hood of one of the cars next to the Impala Dean was working on drinking a beer.

“What?” he asked incredulously. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, she obviously likes you. Kid was shamelessly flirting with you, so I just assumed—”

“No, (Y/N).” He put down the wrench he was holding. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, okay, I just thought—”

He walked over to you and stood between your knees. He ran his hands up and down your thighs. “I’m telling you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Dean, stop it. You don’t have to come over here and flirt with me just ‘cause I got jealous” you said. 

“I’m not,” he assured you. “Look, we haven’t had a chance to talk about everything—”

“And I don’t need us to. I know you need time after your dad—”

“Would you let me finish?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you muttered. 

“But I have no interest in Jo. She’s layin’ it on a little too thick for my taste,” he smirked.

"I don't know, Dean, your bar hookups always lay it on pretty thick," you reminded him.

"Yeah, guess you're right. But she's not you. So I'm not interested."

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go get some more beer. You want one?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

You headed back inside and passed Sam on the way. You found Bobby inside and began to update him on the situation with the brothers.

“I don’t know, Bobby, neither of them are doing well,” you said. “But it’s Dean I’m the most worried about.”

“Why’s that?” the older man asked.

“He’s just… bottling it up. He wouldn’t even let me sit next to him while he worked on his car for the first week we were here. He’s worrying me.”

“Sounds like Dean,” Bobby nodded. “But I think if anybody can get ‘im to open up, it’s gonna be you.”

You eyed him strangely. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s just… different with you. I think he puts up a bit of a front with Sam. But never with you.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep trying.” You grabbed two beers and again passed Sam as he came back into the house with tears in his eyes. As you approached Dean’s car, you heard slamming metal on metal and Dean grunting. You quickened your step to get to him, holding a beer in each hand. When you arrived, you saw him hitting the Impala’s trunk with a crowbar over and over again.

“Dean, what the f—”

He looked up at you and fought back tears. You put the beers on the car behind you and slowly approached him. You opened your arms to him and wrapped them around his torso, and he finally responded by burying his face in your hair. You could feel him still trying to stifle his tears, but it was clear he was unsuccessful. You let him hug you for as long as he needed to.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[nebulablakemurphy]

Total Eclipse Of The Heart (Part 9)

Jacob Black x Vampire!Swan Reader

This has been in my drafts for over 2 years 😂Proceed with caution, steamy make out session and some blood drinking.

Series Masterlist

It has been ten minutes…maybe more since Y/N was taken into the Cullen’s meeting room. It’s been radio silence, since Bella and Edward came back from their honeymoon. When Y/N does emerge, Jacob knows immediately, something is very wrong.

“Jacob,” she reaches a hand toward him. “Come with me?”

Jake moves to stand, twining their fingers and allowing the vampire to lead him out the front door, down to his bike. He leans against it, expectantly. “You gonna tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Bella’s pregnant.”

“With what exactly?” Jacob grimaces.

“Carlisle isn’t sure, they’re…we’re trying to figure it out.”

“So make them take it out of her, he’s a doctor.”

“Jake,” Y/N shakes her head, “she doesn’t want it out.”

“What?”

“It’s her choice and I won’t take it from her.” She knows what it feels like.

“This is different.” This is fucked.

“She thinks Carlisle can turn her at the last minute.” Y/N fidgets with his fingers as she speaks.

“Can he?” The wolf clears his throat.

“It’s possible.”

“But not probable.”

“Baby,” Y/N frowns, “I don’t want to fight. I need you to help me, help her.”

Jacob sighs, “what can I do?”

————————————————————————

Charlie is not so easily swayed, he knows Y/N knows something. He watches his eldest daughter intently at breakfast.

Bella is sick with some kind of bug, currently recovering at a luxury facility in Sweden. Or so the story goes.

The sheriff eyes his oldest daughter over the morning paper.

Y/N catches him, meeting his eye with an awkward smile as she forces a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

“When did we start lying to each other, kid?” Charlie asks.

“When it became necessary to keep you safe. I think it’s the same on your end.”

Charlie is taken aback by this. It’s the most honest answer he’s got from her in months. “If you’re in some kind of trouble, or Bella is-”

“It’s not the kind of trouble you can help me with.”

“Wish you’d at least talk to me about it.”

“I wish I could, Dad.” Y/N admits.

“But you can’t. For the sake of my safety?” He knows this game.

“All of ours.”

Charlie sighs. “Do you know anything else about Bella? How she’s doing?”

“I know she’s alright.” For now. “That’s all I know.”

————————————————————————

Days pass in a blur, Bella withering away as her belly grows.

“How’s dad?” She asks Y/N, curling both legs up under her, on the couch.

Y/N tosses her a blanket. “He’s alright. He misses you though.” She can’t imagine what he’ll be like when they actually…leave.

Bella nods. “How are you?”

“I’m ok.” Y/N lifts a shoulder. She has to be. “The baby could be here anytime now, I need to hunt so I’ll be gone for the day.”

“That’s fine.” Bella’s teeth chatter, she is so cold.

“I’ll leave Jacob with you, he can be your personal hot box.”

“N-no.” Bella forces out, “you don’t have to.”

“I’m not letting you suffer anymore than you already are, Bella.” Y/N mutters, bitterly.

Jacob is leaning against the doorframe, with his arms crossed, waiting for his queue.

Y/N makes her way over to him, feeling his arms encircle her waist, crushing her to him. She nuzzles into the crook of his neck. “Will you stay with her?”

“Yeah,” his words are lost in her hair.

She presses a kiss to his jugular.

“I would let you.” Jacob whispers, “if you want to try, so you don’t have to leave her like this.”

Y/N pulls back, searching his eyes. “No, Jake.” It’s come up before. Bite me.

“I’m not affected by your venom unless I’m already injured.”

“No.”

“It’s no different than you drinking from an animal. I heal fast, it won’t be an issue.”

Y/N opens her mouth to protest.

“I can feel you,” Jacob reminds her. “There’s nothing to feel bad or guilty about. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N doesn’t want to further complicate their relationship.

He nods, “come on.” They find an unoccupied room in the Cullen’s home. Jacob flops down on their cream colored sofa, patting his lap.

Y/N eyes him, warily. Climbing to sit over top his thighs, facing him.

Jacob brushes Y/N’s hair over her shoulders and out of the way. Kissing her lips, her forehead, her nose, “bite me.”

She finds a spot on the side of his neck, peppering his beautiful skin with her kisses, breaking it with her teeth.

Jacob groans, turning his head to give her better access.

Y/N whimpers as his blood fills her mouth, trickling down to ease the burning in her throat.

“You’re ok.” He swallows and she feels it against her tongue. “I love you.”

Fuck. Y/N rolls her hips against his. “I love you.”

“I know,” he guides her back to the opening on his neck. His heart beats faster at the pull of her sucking swallows, he hopes she never stops. Jacob sighs contently as she takes her fill of him on the Cullen’s sitting room couch.

Her lips are on his, the moment she’s finished. His bitter blood in her mouth, it’s not as good as the animals she’s accustomed to feeding from. The only thing making the taste bearable is the knowledge that it’s his. Jacob’s blood fueling her, filling her. Belonging to him so wholly.

Jacob tastes the blood and kisses her anyway. The wound on his neck has already begun to heal, he pulls her closer. He never wants her to drink from anything but him again.

Perhaps it’s the imprint, or the reincarnation, maybe it’s just love. Whatever the culprit may be, they are in it now, too deep to ever surface.

Only one thing could steal them from revelry now. The sound of Bella’s tortured screams. The baby is coming.

Part 10

Series Taglist: @vxidnik @remembered-license @itscheybaby @cole22ann @the-tryhard-twihard @zheezs14 @adaydreamaway08 @xcastawayherosx @moneteguiza @stinkii-boii @theatrechic26 @sylum @irrelevant-86

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

i wanna ask skz pack how they would react if y/n got into a physical fight with other alphas! (kinda similar to ur fic, but i mean if some ppl tried to throw hands with y/n when they were alone)

"Well first off, we know she's shit at fighting. So there's that." Minho drawls smugly, and you immediately shoot him a glare as Chan reaches out to lay his hand on your thigh, as if he's worried you're going to jump up and try and prove Minho wrong right then and there.

"Hey! That was one time and I was unprepared!"

"And I was thankful." Jisung interjects, beaming you a heart shaped grin and batting his eyes. "Thank you for defending my honor, noona."

"You're a perfect angel, Jisung, and I would gladly do it again." You quip back without even looking at him, fury still directed at Minho, as you hold out a hand, finger raised, as if to make a point. "And I'll have you know, I've been practicing boxing at the gym with Changbin lately and I'm getting pretty good."

Changbin nods thoughtfully. "She's not bad actually."

"See? See?" You point at Changbin now, eyes fiery.

"Hate to break it to you, sweetheart," Minho smirks, sharp teeth flashing, sitting back in the couch beside Felix as if he hasn't a care in the world, hands behind his head. "But 'not bad' is not the same as 'pretty good.'"

Chan's fingers tighten around your thigh, as if he's seriously considering having to hold you back at this point.

"Bring it then. I'll kick your ass right here and now."

"I'd love to see you try, sweetheart, I really would."

"Anyway-" Seungmin, always the pragmatic member of the pack, interrupts, raising his voice, as he shoots a warning look between the two of you. "-let's actually answer the question, shall we?"

"Well, we all know how hyung would react." Hyunjin points out, shooting a smug look in the lead alpha's direction now. "He gets pissy."

"I was not 'pissy.'" Chan sighs, already done with this conversation. "I was disappointed. There's a difference."

You glance sidelong at him.

"You were kind of pissy."

He sighs again.

"Listen, as pack alpha, I have to protect all of you-"

There are immediate protests, from all angles of the room.

"Woah, woah, woah. I can protect myself!"

"Please. You protect us because you like it, not because we need it."

"I could kick anyone's ass on my own, hyung!"

"Oh my god." Chan visibly rolls his eyes, raising his voice. "Okay, okay! I get it! You're all big, bad wolves. I'm still gonna keep an eye out for all of you. And that's never going to change."

"Back to the question." Felix clears his throat and glances at you. "I think regardless of subgender, all the members of the pack would instantly be protective if one of our mates got into a fight with someone else."

"Yeah." Jeongin nods in agreement. "I'd punch a guy for any one of them."

"Ahhh, Innie." Minho coos theatrically, leaning over to rub the top of the omega's head as he squawks in protest.

"I'd hunt them down." Changbin supplies simply, and Chan glances to him, seemingly at war with himself.

"I don't necessarily condone violence, but in a situation like that-if (Y/N) got hurt or anyone else for that matter-yeah, I'd probably do something drastic."

"Ahhh sweet." It's your turn to sweetly smile at the head alpha, leaning over to squeeze his cheek between your fingers as he rolls his eyes again.

"Anyway." You straighten back up. "I think it's safe to say that any one of us would die protecting the others."

"Eh, that's kinda drastic." Jisung hums, making a show of thinking hard. "I'd risk my OOTD for you all, maybe even my pretty face, but my life? That's asking a little too much."

"He is very pretty." Changbin shrugs beside the beta in question, biting back a grin.

[slasherscream]

hear me out crazy ass boy gang with a s/o that writes them songs but has never shown them. randomly the guys find them knowing them some are gonna be insufferable with the amount of arrogance they now possess and some of them have no clue what to do with the concept of someone loving them and verbalizing it 🥺

A/N: oooh my gosh i'm obsessed with this concept

billy loomis: Was waiting for you to get back from school/work, and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t necessarily trying to find anything, but the book was on your desk- you were asking him to read it, at this point. He’s only halfheartedly looking until he realizes the words are lyrics. It doesn’t take a genius to realize the love songs are written with him in mind. At first it makes him smirk. But he can see the evolution of your relationship through the lyrics. General feelings of infatuation melting into the deeper connection of being in love with him, as opposed to being in love with love itself. It’s an ego boost, for sure. Mostly it’s a relief. Here are your feelings, written out on page, clear as day. Your every unfiltered thought. He doesn’t tell you he read the book. He just walks around with a knowing smirk on his face that you’re very suspicious of. You’re easily distracted from this onset of smugness by his sudden romantic nature. He’s never been a bad boyfriend, but he’s certainly never been so downright doting. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you decide to just enjoy this random streak of tenderness.

josh washington: You two were moving in together and he was just trying to unpack some of your boxes for you. He’s honestly just setting up your desk for you. All the boxes are marked so that either one of you can unpack anything inside with at least a vague idea of where the stuff should go. Something about the unmarked notebook that doesn’t look like its for school makes him take a look inside. When he realizes how personal it is he wants to put it down. Then he spots his name... and well, he isn’t a saint.

He melts as he goes through the pages. He knows the two of you love each other. You have to love each other, with all the bullshit you’ve been through. But he knows it’s not easy to be with him. Sometimes he worries that you’ll wake up one day and be done with him. Be done with all the problems that come with being with him. He wouldn’t blame you but the thought leaves him hollow. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. He doesn’t know if he could handle you being gone. You love him though. It’s inked into the pages. Some songs written out slow and careful, and others written out sloppy and fast, like you had to get all the feeling out of your chest because it hurt to have it all trapped inside. You’ll walk in carrying takeout and find Josh crying. You nearly drop the food to run and comfort him. When he tells you what’s wrong - or really, what isn’t wrong, you won’t even have the heart to be angry. He looks somewhere between overwhelmed and awe. All he can think to do is pull you into his arms. He holds you so tightly you wonder if he’s afraid someone will come and take you away.

stu macher: He was just going through your stuff because he was bored, honestly. He wasn’t expecting to find anything juicy. The minute he realizes he’s holding onto a notebook full of songs he’s giddy. It’s practically a diary! You'll come into your bedroom and see him poring over your words without shame. He won’t even have the decency to stop. “Hey babe!”, will be his absentminded greeting as his eyes stay glued to a far-too-familiar book. You’ll have to literally snatch it from him. “Didn’t know you felt this way about me.” His teasing will be relentless. You’ll have to threaten to break up with him, and give him a bit of the silent treatment too. Eventually he’ll ease up on you, his grin going soft around the edges. “You should show me them on your own next time. Else I’ll have to go hunting for ‘em.” It’s not an idle threat. Now that he knows the book exists he’ll really tear up your entire house looking for it. Don’t bother trying to hide it. It won’t be worth the headache. 

jd: His first instinct is to become insufferable. As he reads more of your lyrics, he starts getting overwhelmed. Even as he holds the proof in his hands, he can barely wrap his head around you feeling so strongly about him. He traces over your handwriting and relishes every word. You'll catch him in the act but you won't have the chance to get angry. He kisses you like a man starved. Whispers every thought of love he's ever had against your lips, uncaring if he sounds obsessed. He was allowed a glimpse at your soul. It's only fair that he bares his in return.

kevin khatchadourian: Honestly was indifferent at first. He was going through your things because ‘why shouldn't he?‘ when he found all the songs. Page after page he reads. Slowly but surely it starts to get to him. The only person who's ever loved him is his father, and that love is built upon an endless tapestry of falsehoods and manipulation. His father loves someone who doesn't exist. His mother knows him, always has, but she despises him. Celia loves him, but it's pathetic. The hopeless and unthinking love of a dog. And now there's you. When he's with you he drops the act of normality he puts on for everyone else. You were around so constantly that he couldn't stomach wearing the mask 24/7. Beyond that though, there was something about you that made him want to show you everything. At first he thought he wanted to scare you. Now he doesn't know what he really wants from you.

As he reads through the pages he's sifting through your words, finding the deeper meanings. Watches as you stop writing about his mask, and start writing about him. Jagged and malicious and apathetic as he might be. You're infatuated          maybe you even love him. You've written out the words in a hundred different ways. He can see it every time you look at him, reach for him, follow him, talk to him. Reading it is different, somehow. You probably never wanted him to see these words. To know the depth of how you feel. You were probably afraid he'd mock you. A few months ago he would have. Now? He puts the book back, exactly where he found it.

He won't tell you about reading it, but the words are always on his mind. You'll think you misplaced the book one day and be beside yourself over losing it. Eventually you’ll find it again, out of the blue. Something is off about it though... but you’re not sure what. You’ll never know that what you have is a replica of the original book. A good replica, granted, but a replica nonetheless. Kevin thought about the songs too much, and committing them all to memory hadn’t scratched the itch. The constant cycle of the words running through his head. The irritation he’d feel when he forgot a part of a song, or mixed lyrics together. Having the book itself? It quieted his mind. He’s uncomfortable with the fact that he keeps it under his bed, tucked away inside a lock box, just so no one would be able to look at it. He’s never felt so protective over an item before. He tries not to think about it too much.

nathan prescott: He actually looked at your song book on accident. He needed to borrow some notes for a class and you told him he could just go to your room and grab them. He would never go searching for something like that. Saying he values his privacy would be an understatement, so he'd never disrespect yours. As soon as he realizes these are songs he wants to stop reading... but he's desperate to know what you think of him. People lie so easily, but here's a chance to see the raw truth of how you feel. He's terrified as he starts to read. Then he's just shocked. He'd hoped you weren't like everyone else around him. Wanting him to fail, to lose it, waiting for some sort of pay-off or trickle down. Even if you were, he wanted you so badly he was willing to have you any way you came, as long as you stayed. But here you are, your deepest feelings written out in ink, and you love him. You don't even pity him, you ache for him, want him. The next time he sees you he tells you he loves you for the first time. You'll never know that he read your songs, you'll only notice how much your relationship seemed to change over night.

sebastian valmont: Has to deflect. The only reason he’s being such an asshole about your songs is because he’s trying to deflect. He’s the only one here who has also written about you. Maybe not in lyrics, or in poetry, but he’s written about you. His diary is full of you. He started writing about you the moment he met you. Not unusual for him, considering absolutely everything is in his journals. But from the start there’s been something different about the entries that mention you. All his words suddenly become electric, leaping off the page. His descriptions of you, of the time you spent together, nearing obsessive in their detail. As if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

If there’s anything Sebastian is good at its manipulation. He knows he has you. He can have anyone, if he puts his mind to it. He’s made people fall in love with him before. There’s a long line of people who wants his head on a platter for that very reason. You’re the only prize that’s ever mattered, though. He has you now, sure. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? It’s easy for eyes to wander, for the heart to turn fickle. Sometimes he watches you and tries to imagine what you might want from him. Tries to figure out what he could do to keep you interested from moment to moment. If he ever shared his worries with you, his worries that you could just get bored with him and leave, just like that - you’d tell him you don’t want him to be anyone but himself. And Sebastian doesn’t want to be anyone but himself, he doesn’t. But people contain multitudes, are more than a single face. He’d rather be a version of himself that captivates you then a “true” version of himself that you can grow tired of.

But here’s written proof that you love him. As he is. All the long nights you’ve spent talking to one another, side by side. The conversations where you traded barbs and philosophy, and everything in-between. The dinners, and picnics, and phone calls, and rooftops. He was so busy observing you, and trying to create a version of himself that you could love, that he forgot that there was something real for you to fall for. Didn’t even know how much of himself he was earnestly offering to you. Now he can see it in ink, and it’s scary, even with how much he loves you, to realize how much of the real him you know.

So he’s an asshole for a few days. When you confront him he falls apart like a wet sandcastle. You won’t have time to get angry before he’s pushing his own journals into your hands. Sebastian has never played fair, but something about you seeing through him despite all his masks made him want to show you more. As scary as it had been, it was also a moment of pure connection. The most electric, addicting thing he’s ever felt. He wants to feel it over and over again.

[mailboxmerchant]

BAD DAY

tldr:naib is mfin horny after a match wit u bae n ur both in love with esch other and equally needy but dont knoe‼️

character: Naib Subedar - mercenary

fandom: identity V

warnings: SEX!!! who could have guessed, also rough/dom naib, swearing, power bottom(lmao)/fem reader, perhaps some masochistic type a stuff but not crazy, less goooooooo

(this is like. just horny. no thoughts. only horny)

As sweat beaded down his forehead, you watched Naib angrily smash the keys of a decoding machine. Something was up, but your teammate just never seemed to let on when something had gone wrong. This match was going fine, you had three more ciphers to go, and everyone was still up and going, only two of your teammates being injured. The hunter was struggling to find any of you, and with each of you teamed up with another to decode, you were all feeling confident in a victory to the survivors. So why was Naib so stressed?

“Hey, Naib?”

 “What, y/n?” 

His tone was sharp, and he snapped back instantly. Someone was clearly cranky. What did you even do?

“Are you...feeling okay? You seem...tense.” You kept your tone neutral, preventing there to be any negativity for him to react to. Before he snapped back, he missed a calibration and alerted the hunter of our position. Still not talking, Naib wrapped a braced arm around your waist and made a dive into a pile of cardboard boxes and other various recyclables. “Shut it, y/n. Hunter’s comin’.” 

You went quiet, but still, his commanding attitude could be done without.  You squirmed in Naib’s grip, at which he grunted, and tightened his hold on you. 

He was started to really make you worry. Naib was usually a calm, collected rescuer, who often would be more reassuring when you were being hunted. You promised you’d figure all this out, just maybe after the match ended. 

The danger passed, quite literally, as Hell Ember jaunted around the trash pile you were hiding in. Naib’s grip got even tighter around you as the hunter loomed closer.  “N-Naib, I can’t-” Naib didn’t seem to give a damn for what you had to say as he slapped a hand over your mouth. “I said, quiet.” His tone was worsening, he was really pissed, huh?

You couldn’t deny yourself though, hearing him sound so stern and having him grab at you so suddenly really threw you off. Your ever-so-secret crush on Naib was keeping you from feeling angry about any of this, in fact, you were almost happy to be so close, even if he was being rude. 

Finally though, you decided that you needed to get back to the matter at hand. Leo was gone, and Naib had to let go of you sometime. You made more of an effort to move, and Naib finally dropped you. Quickly, you jumped back on the machine as the Merc slowly crept from the box pile to return to his typing position. “You know, you could have been caught if it weren’t for me.” He sputtered, quieter than before. “Th-thank you...? God, Naib, what’s your issue today?” You spoke more questioningly than upset, hoping he wouldn’t hear the annoyed undertone in your speech. “It’s nothing you’d understand.” 

Alright, you were giving up for the remainder of decoding time.

Silently, you both finished the machine, and you made a break for the opposite direction of Naib. You figured you could have some alone time to just decode, calm down, and prep for the ending leap where you’d have to play a guessing game for which gate Hell Ember would be waiting for you at. 

Taking a break from running, your steps grew light as you began to pace yourself. “y/n!” As you looked through the fog, you discovered that Edgar was awaiting you with a half done machine. “Edgar! You’re here!” You made a quick greeting to the painter before getting back to business. Small talk wasn’t necessary between the two of you, as the ability to decode calmly was leaving both of your skillsets as your heartbeats became slowly more audible. 

“Come on, y/n, we can finish this, just don’t look away from the calibrations. Stay focused.” Edgar gave you a light tap of the palm to your head as he smacked the sides of the cipher. Your pace increased, as did Edgar’s as you had merely a percentage left. Someone else’s machine popped off, and yours a second later. 

Determined and brave, you made off like a bullet towards the southward exit gate. Sneaking around a broken pillar, you sighed at the sight of a clear gate.  Edgar clearly didn’t share the idea that this was the correct gate, so you could only hope he was hiding and waiting it out to escape. Actually, it seemed like everyone picked the wrong-

*SLAM*

A large hand suddenly slapped down on the decoding pad next to yours, frightening the hell out of you. You prepared to meet your doom when you turned around, but instead met a glaring Naib. “N-Naib! Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” “Where’d you run off to earlier!? We were supposed to be decoding together.” 

His tone from earlier was still present, so....clearly he was still peeved about something you did. “W-well I just thought-” “You thought nothin’, y/n. Just keep decoding.” Your crush wasn’t protecting him any more. Letting out an anxious and angry grunt, you turned back around to the coding pad, slamming the rubbery keys down as you decoded. 

So that’s how it was, then, huh? Fine.

“Naib, you’re a real asshole.” You huffed as you finished the gate, and stormed out, not evening looking back to see if he OR Hell Ember were following. 

Once back in the manor, you rushed back to your room, the embarrassment and guilt from your actions following you quickly after. 

Keeping up the angry façade, you slammed your door behind you before running to flop on your bed. Holding your pillow close to your face, you yelled into it, hoping it was enough to choke the sound. 

“Damn it, Naib...”  You closed your eyes, hoping to wake up with a renewed confidence that way you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of your words.

The sound of three loud, harsh knocks on your door awoke you from your rage nap. 

“OPEN UP! COME ON, I ALREADY KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, Y/N!!”

Naib? Again? Now what...

You begrudgingly sauntered to your door, cracking it open to peek out. Only, Naib pushed right through your defenses, pushing both you and the door back. “Hey!”

Naib was more forceful than before, walking quickly in your direction, and even quicker, cornering you against your bed. You fell onto your behind as Naib gave you a harsh push. “What is all this?! You’ve been acting weird since we started decoding together in that match, and you’re totally out of line! I didn’t even...do anything...” Your words lost their force as you trailed your eyes downward. So that’s why he was all pent up.

An obvious tent in Naib’s pants was what your eyes met with, and even though your cheeks began to blush furiously, you averted your gaze and tried to pretend that you saw nothing. “J-just get out of my room.” You grumbled, no longer able to keep eye contact. 

“I just came to talk, y/n, don’t throw me out.” Naib shifted his body, effectively pinning you to the plush mattress, a hand on either side of your head. You ‘hmphed’, and curtly turned your face away from him. 

“D-don’t act all pissy,” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, “you’re making it so much worse!” Your eyes still just couldn’t meet his, the heat between the both of you running down between your legs.  Sliding a knee between your thighs, Naib leaned down to speak gruffly into your ear. 

“This is all your fault, you know.” 

“N-Naib! I-” but your words were quickly vanquished by a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips slamming down on your own. A slight graze of his teeth on your bottom lip gave you more excitement than you’d ever felt in any match, and you immediately parted your lips to feel Naib’s wet tongue slick into your mouth. 

You let out a quiet noise, enough for him to notice. After what felt like an eternity (seconds) of making out, Naib pulled away to hold your face in one hand, squishing your cheeks harshly between his fingers. “So...that’s how you feel, huh?” 

You were flustered, but it wasn’t going to take away what your nap earned you. “You were being so awful in that match, but I still...love you, Naib. I didn’t know when or where to tell you, but if you’re gonna do it first, then by all means...” You gestured to Naib with a smirk. 

Hungrily, Naib practically shredded your clothes off, each of his hands attaching themselves to your chest as he kneaded your soft breasts between his fingers. Your quiet pants were driving him absolutely insane. He loved every little exhale that escaped your mouth, settling to nip and suck at your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how much he needed this, how long he was waiting for this, how he wanted you.

An abrupt end to the sensations in your chest were replaced by a hand sliding underneath each of your thighs. Lifting them up to his shoulders, Naib quickly unfastened his belt, a look of giddiness flashing across his smug face. 

Diving his head down to meet his forehead to yours, Naib snatched your panties off in seconds, aligning himself painfully slow. As he slid his length slowly into your entrance, you dug your fingers into his hair, which was messily tied into his usual ponytail. Hissing at the feeling of you tugging his hair, Naib pushed all the way inside of you, earning a mewl of both pain and pleasure from you. 

"Ah, but wait..."

You winced as Naib suddenly pulled his length out of your entrance, the emptiness being too much to bear. "I'm an asshole, aren't I?"

He was going to make you eat your words.

Almost literally.

"Get up." His harsh tone was back, but it only served to make you feel hotter than before. Giving a shy nod, you got to your knees as Naib stood at the edge of the bed.

Nervously eying him, you gaped at his length, wishing you didn't say those words before so he could drive you insane with pleasure with it.

Stupid y/n...

"Well?" Tired of waiting, Naib took his hand to the back of your head, pushing you closer to his body, your head colliding with his chest. The sudden wholesome warmth was quickly replaced as he pushed you downwards near his manhood.

You began to comply as you opened your mouth, feeling as he gave a slow first grind into your throat. You choked immediately, but didn't pull away. Not yet.

Breathing quickly through your nose, you began to suck aggressively with no warning, pulling a gasp from the previously snarky Merc.

"Ga-hah! y-y/n...." Pulling off with a 'pop', you went back down to give small kitten licks to the tip of his cock, earning little shifts of position and pants from Naib.

"Stop....stop teasin' me...." was all he could huff out. You slid the entirety of his length in and out for a quick throat fuck a few times, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. In your own way, you were making him pay for being so snide earlier.  “Screw you, y/n. Have it your way.”

Your torture paid off! 

Naib firmly pushed you back down on your stomach, grasping your hips and pulling you close to his own hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you felt as Naib quickly align himself with your entrance once more.

Giving you no time to readjust again, he fully sheathed himself inside of you, your insides stretching once again to fit him inside. “Hah....shit, Naib.....” You cursed, grasping tightly onto Naib as he pushed you both down, beginning to thrust wildly in and out of you. Every pounding slammed harder against the entrance of your womb, the suction of your warm, wet insides also providing intense pleasure for Naib. 

“Oh fuck, y/n, you’re...so tight...” Naib panted loudly into your ear. Neither of you were even remotely worried about the other manor residents hearing either of your moans racketing off the walls of the creaky residence.

“G-god...I c-can’t...hold on...” You whimpered pathetically as your dug your fingers into Naib’s scalp a second time. As your begging for more became louder, you felt the knot in your stomach grow larger, tighter, and more overwhelming than you’d ever felt before. You could feel Naib’s hard and precise thrusts growing sloppy, and you knew you were both getting close to climax.

  “y/n....y/n....I’m gonna...” Before his sentence could even be finished, Naib’s thick cock twitched harshly inside you as you felt his hot seed pour into you. The spreading warmth was enough to send you over the edge, your juice quickly spilling out to mix with his own. 

Slowly pulling out, your precious mercenary promptly collapsed on top of you, his head coincidentally landing in between your tits. You sighed hazily, riding off your previous high as you wrapped your arms around his head, and slowly letting your eyes close in exhaustion.

a/n: so sorry if theres any typos/grammar-spellin mistakes. i rushed the end bc i had this cued for FOREVER, enjoy babes <3 

[adaodinson]

Thank you

I got the inspiration for this since I watched Rush again (one of my favorite movies). I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it :)

And well my obsession on Daniel Brühl makes no sign on leaving any time soon, so I’m putting that to good use.

Summary: Niki notices his new neighbor the second she moves in next to him, will you notice him?

Warnings: swearing, assholes and Niki being a little shit that knows what he’s doing.

Relationship: Niki Lauda x fem!reader.

You sighed as you carried the last box into your new house. You had started taking everything inside with a rather positive energy, but after four hours you were exhausted. Everything was now inside, but as you closed the door and turned to look at your small living room, the sight made you want to cry. Sure, everything was inside, but it was still packed up.

-You know what- you talked to the air- I´ll do that tomorrow, I´m gonna treat myself cause this was fucking exhausting-.

You walked towards your new kitchen. Of course, the only things that were unpacked were your writing tools and cooking tools. As you walked around the counter a sudden feeling of tired happiness filled you. You had finally found a job you adored, and at the need, you didn´t hesitate in moving out from your country into this new, small place. It was perfect for a person or two; or as your case happened to be, one person and two cats. You were starting, doing what you loved, and you knew it was going to be tough, but you weren´t expecting anything else.

Almost automatically, you started settling all the ingredients for spaghetti bolognesa on the counter, and since you knew the recipe by heart, the only thing you used your phone for was to play your favorite music. As you danced and sang around, you moved gracefully, working with the stove, chopping what was needed and mixing expertly. You had always loved cooking, and you were pretty good at it, if you said it yourself. But you never saw it as a career. Your thing was writing.

As you waited for the pasta to cook and the sauce to simmer, you looked outside the window when a sudden light in the next-door house was turned on. It was pretty close, so you had a good sight of the inside. It looked cozy, but it seemed whoever lived there didn´t spend most of their time inside. Curiously, you waited to see if you could get a glimpse of the person, but after a few minutes passed, you gave up and went back to the kitchen.

Niki was just arriving to his house. He was, as usual, exhausted. All he wanted was to finish the phone calls he needed to do and go to bed, but an amazing smell that he immediately recognized as bolognesa caught his every action. He headed for the window, and that was when he saw you. You were wearing a pair of dark blue pants and a purple hoodie, and even though your mother would have said you looked like a homeless person, Niki thought you were insanely cute. Of course he always kept that kind of thoughts to himself, but he couldn´t help but staring as you danced around the kitchen, checking on the pasta and mixing up the sauce. He could get a rather low volume of your so inspired singing, but what he managed to hear was beautiful.

-Huh, she´s pretty, dances, cooks, and sings… what a sight I get from here- He said to himself, allowing his mind to take you in and think of you, not only in a bit of a sexy way, but in a cute one as well.

From that day on Niki caught glimpses of you many times, doing different things. He learnt so much about you, but at the same time, he knew nothing. It was obvious you had two cats, and that they loved you as much as you loved them. His heart had ached the first time he saw you laying on your small garden, with your back facing up, and with both of your cats cuddled on top of your back as you slept. For those moments, he allowed himself to feel, knowing it wouldn´t lead anywhere. But it was only for those few minutes that he saw you that he let his mind find somebody so cute and not try to find something wrong with them. He never expected people to know who he was, but he thought someone like you wouldn’t have gone unnoticed at the races, not just by him, but by the other drivers as well, so he knew you probably didn´t know him for his career.

You had seen your new neighbor a few times, and God wasn´t he attractive. You swore you had seen him somewhere, but couldn´t quite place your finger on where. You knew nothing about the guy, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop making fake scenarios in your head; ones in which he would look at you for the first time and fall for you, but you knew it was normal to fantasize that way. The day you finally talked to him though, was a... weird one, to say the least.

You had bought a new couch but forgot to specify in the delivery form that you needed help taking it inside, so when you saw the huge furniture, you felt like screaming.

Niki was arriving from a morning of work with Clay. It was one of those rare days in which he got an afternoon for himself. After parking his car, he walked towards his house, and as he reached for his keys he stepped on something and fell on his ass with a hard smack.

-OUCH- he whined as he tried getting up. The second you felt something hit your foot you knew something was going to go wrong, and when you turned to see your cute neighbor (that happened to have an Austrian accent) on the ground with an angry face, your fear came real.

-What the hell was… watch out next ti…-He yelled but couldn´t finish. The second he saw you on your knees holding the wrap around the couch, he realized he had stumbled with your foot, and his angry face immediately changed into a soft one.

-I´m sorry, is your foot okay?- He asked, feeling stupid at the second the words left his mouth. You looked at him with a confused and embarrassed look.

-What? No, don´t you apologize, I´m sorry, I should have been more careful as to where I was sitting. Please don´t apologize, are you okay?- You said as you stood up and offered your hand to help him get up.

-Yeah, I´m fine, do you need help with that?- Niki knew there were first times for everything, but he cringed at the words that were coming out of him, they seemed to make you happy though, so it didn´t bother him for that long. He wasn´t always an asshole, but he definitely wasn´t used to being nice either. Around you it seemed to come out automatically, and he hated it but loved the way it made you smile. He had so many mixed feelings that he was actually feeling nervous. What the hell is wrong with me, he thought.

-Oh yes please! If it´s not too much trouble, I´ve been trying to take this inside for 40 minutes and well, you can see how good that´s going- He chuckled softly and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sound.

Without another word, he headed for one side of the couch as you grabbed the other one, but before you could lift it, about three people with shirts that spelled “James Hunt” interrupted.

-Hey rat face- a tall, dark haired man said as the other two behind him laughed- hey cutie, is the asshole bothering you?- He said looking at you. Who the hell does this idiot think he is?

Niki´s face was serious, just serious. He didn´t even look at the guy, almost as if he was used to that type of thing happening, and he made no sign to want to do anything about it. It impressed you how it seemed like he genuinely didn´t care about this guy, but you weren´t taking any of it, so before any of the idiots said anything else, you spoke.

-No, actually, the ugly assholes bothering are you three shitheads, so if you could walk on and leave us alone, I would mostly appreciate it- You said with a harsh tone and a serious grin. Niki dramatically turned his face with a shocked and amused expression towards you. The three guys didn´t seem to have any clever response, but their heads were too filled with ego to actually leave.

-Hey, you heard her! Go away assholes!- Niki finally said. They walked looking at each other. They clearly weren´t expecting any of you to talk back.

-Thank you- Niki said with an almost inaudible tone.

-Don´t thank me- you said with a smile- the idiots only wish they were as handsome as you are...- That last part came out without you wanting it to. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and tried to ignore the surprised but hugely amused grin on Niki´s face.

-I´m sorry, I´m sorry, I didn´t mean to say that I…-

-Do you really think that?- You would have liked to say he was genuinely asking, maybe he was, but now it was pretty clear he was teasing you because of the stupid smirk that covered his face.

-Maybe…- You said as you looked to the floor.

-I´m Niki- He said as he took his hand from the couch and placed it for you to shake. That smirk was still plastered in his face.

-I´m Y/N…- You said hesitantly as you shook his hand, not looking at his face.

-You´re beautiful, you know?- Niki stated with a proud tone. Oh he knows what he´s doing.

You weren´t even able to answer, your face was redder than the apples that were hanging from the tree in front of your house, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn´t come up with any way of teasing him back.

-So, let´s take this inside- He said as he lifted the couch. You only nodded and followed. Niki was dying. He found it so insanely cute and amazing how just a few seconds ago you were being a badass against the assholes that bothered him, but when he complemented you, you couldn´t even bring yourself to answer.

You had no stairs, but it was a relatively long trip, so you really appreciated his help. As you settled the couch on it´s place, both of you fell dramatically into it and sighed at the effort.

-Let me make dinner for you, as a thank you- You said shyly but with a little bit more confidence.

-I´d love that, gorgeous- He said as he winked, and you felt your insides melting. Once again, he had you wrapped around his finger, you both knew it, and you both loved it. You led him to the kitchen and as you pulled out the ingredients, you felt two hands hesitantly grabbing your waist. Hesitantly not because he wasn´t sure he wanted to place his hands on your waist, but because he didn´t want to overstep.

You leaned into his touch and he got the answer he wanted. All afternoon you spent dancing with Niki behind you, talking with you and complementing how amazing everything smelled. You secretly thanked your past self for forgetting to ask for help on the couch, since that mistake led to one of the best things in your future: Niki Lauda.

[idreamofplaid]

All is Calm

Square Filled: Impala for @spngenrebingo & Huddle for Warmth for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mostly mentioned

Word Count: 2445

Summary: Dean been distracted by hunting lately, but he’s fully focused now. Everything is clear to him.

Created for @spngenrebingo & @spnchristmasbingo

Dean was usually so good about keeping Baby maintained and in top condition. Her oil was always changed hundreds of miles before it needed to be, the air pressure and tread on her tires was checked on practically a weekly basis along with her fluid levels. Some people might say he was obsessive about his car. You’d come to understand she was more than just a car to him, and the way he cared for her was the way he cared for anything and anyone that mattered to him.

It was one of the many admirable qualities about Dean. You had noticed this softer side of his in so many small ways since you’d met him. Along with that softness, he possessed a driven determination. That determination pushed him to keep hunting the next monster, save the next person, do what he could to make the world better. That was why Baby hadn’t been receiving her usual amount of attention lately, too many monsters in the world. That was also the reason the two of you were stuck in the middle of nowhere Montana right now. Baby had a dead battery.

That was bad enough, but it was the week before Christmas, and in Montana that meant full fledged winter. Walking out of here wasn’t an option. The last town you’d passed through was thirty miles back, and new snow was beginning to fall. Even worse, the cell signal out here was so weak Dean had barely gotten to say ten words to Sam before the line went dead. He reassured you that was enough for his tech geek brother to turn on the GPS and find you. You just had to wait it out. 

Fortunately, Baby’s trunk contained not only every weapon known to humankind but also sleeping bags and blankets in the compartment beneath those weapons. Dean fetched those and covered the backseat with a sleeping bag, leaving the other covers in a pile for now, then he motioned for you to get inside with a lopsided smile, “We’re going to have to make the best of it until Sam gets here.”

Sam didn’t drive the way Dean did, but he could be fast enough when the situation called for it. Still, it would take hours for him to get here. That was a long time with the temperature dropping the way it was. You tried to sound more sure that the two of you would make it through this okay than you felt. “What are we going to do exactly?” The uncertainty was in your voice in spite of your best efforts, and you knew Dean could hear it based on his reaction. He went into joking and downplaying the situation mode.

“We’re gonna get under those blankets and sing Christmas carols. I have a fabulous voice.” He held the car door open and swept his arm gallantly toward the interior and the back seat. You climbed in and Dean followed, closing the door behind him.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been in Baby’s backseat by any means, but it was the first time you had been here with Dean. You knew it wasn’t the first time Dean had been back here either; the difference was he wasn’t a passenger when he was in the backseat of this car. Better not to think about that right now. You were in danger of freezing to death; you could think about your crush and deal with your jealousy tomorrow after you survived.

Dean reached around you, grabbed the other sleeping bag, and settled it around the two of you; then he did the same with a blanket. His final move was to put his arms around you and draw you in close to him. He rested his chin on top of your head and dropped the bravado. “I’m gonna keep you warm, Y/N. It’ll be okay.”

His body was warm, but as the last of the heat disappeared from the inside of the car, you could feel the cold gathering around the little cocoon Dean had made. You weren’t going to let yourself be scared. You were with Dean, and he would take care of you. You tried to snuggle closer to him, but you were already about as close as you could get. So, you tried to distract yourself. “What about those Christmas songs, Dean?”

He rubbed his hand along your back to create more warmth. “I kinda exaggerated that a little. I can’t sing at all.” You put your head on his shoulder and sighed, only it wasn’t the contented kind; it was much more the “I can make it through this” kind of sigh. Dean tried to redirect your thoughts with a different approach. “I can tell stories though.”

“Really?” You didn’t lift your head from his shoulder and slipped your hand beneath his jacket. Dean took it for what it was, a gesture to keep warm, but it was more than that to you. It comforted you to feel him closer. “Tell me one. Tell me a Christmas story.”

“Well...um...I don’t really have too many Christmas memories, but I’ll tell you what I’d like to do.”

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

I felt your hand slide across my stomach and come to a stop on my ribs. Under different circumstances, it wouldn’t be long before I’d be kissing you. It’d be the kind of kiss that was hot and previewed what else I was about to do to you. We weren’t in those kind of circumstances. I should have gotten you in the back of this car before now and made out with you the way I couldn’t stop thinking about. I should have done a lot of things, but now here we are. You want to hear a Christmas story, so I’m going to tell you what I should have done about Christmas. 

“When we get back to the bunker…” That’s it. Keep the focus on we are going to get out of here. “I’m going to get a tree, and we’re going to find some ornaments. I bet the Men of Letters stashed some somewhere in that place. Or, we’ll buy some. But we’re going to decorate that thing. You, me, and Sam. It’ll be a big one too. You can decide where we put it. Where do you think the tree should go?”

You shifted against me. You still felt warm enough, but I wish there was a way I could keep you warmer. It’s my fault you’re in this mess. How could I be this stupid? I’ve been taking care of this car since I was a kid. This is probably the biggest fuck up of my life, and there’s plenty to choose from. You answer my question, pulling me out of the downward spiral I’m in.  “I think it should go in the library, so we see it as soon as we come into the bunker. And we spend the most time there. Maybe we could get another tiny one for the kitchen to look at while we eat?”

You love Christmas trees. Why didn’t I ever know that? You love them, and I haven’t gotten you a single fucking one the whole time you’ve been living with us. “Yeah. Sure we can get a little one too. We’ll make strings of popcorn to put on it like they did in those Christmas movies Sam watched when we were kids.” I realized then it was Sam who’d watched the movies and the reindeer cartoons. Sam had wanted Christmas too, and I’d just blocked the whole thing out. Christmas had probably gone up in flames on the ceiling for me the night my mother died. I regret that now.

What else was in those movies Sam used to watch? “We’ll make hot chocolate too, with whipped cream, and stick a candy cane in it. We can wrap presents together. Maybe you could teach me how to wrap them better so they look pretty good?”

Your hand felt so small on me, and your voice was quiet. “Yes, I’ll teach you how to wrap presents. There should be a lot of presents under the tree. You haven’t had many presents, Dean, and you should have. You deserve presents.” Where did that come from? 

“I...I don’t know about that, but you do.”  You were beginning to feel colder to my touch. I needed to do something. “Y/N, let’s lie down, sweetheart.” Hopefully, full body contact would make you warmer. I lay you down on the seat and stretched out next to you so the entire length of my body was against you. I made sure a blanket was pulled up behind you to cover the seat of the Impala because it was probably warmer than the leather. 

You put your cheek on my neck, seeking out the warmth I had to give you. “You okay, Y/N?” You nodded but didn’t answer out loud. I didn’t like the quiet. It was better to keep you talking. “What do you want for Christmas this year? I’ll make sure Santa knows.” 

That made you laugh. “Is Santa real too? Have you been holding out on me?” 

Yeah, I’ve been holding out on you, but not about Santa Claus. “I could get a message to him. What do you want?”

You giggled, and it was a beautiful sound. “I want some Christmas pajamas.” I could picture you in something like that. It was cute and sexy. “Will you get some too? And Sam? We could have matching pajamas. Like a family.” Wait a minute. Did you just put me in the brother category? And why was I worried about that now?

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll tell Santa to get us all Christmas pajamas.” It’s going to take one hell of a bribe to get Sam to go along with this one. 

Then you surprised me because you asked, “Dean, what do you want?” I had no idea how to answer that question. The things I wanted couldn’t be put inside a box or under a Christmas tree. 

Hell with it. I’m just going to be honest. “I want you and Sam to be happy.” That sounded a little like I was making you a sister which I’m definitely not, so maybe you didn’t brother zone me before. 

You kissed my cheek, and it warmed me inside, making me forget how cold it was on the outside for a few seconds. “I want you to be happy too, Dean.”

It wasn’t the right time or place, but I put my finger under your chin, tilted your face up, and kissed you. It was a soft kiss, a kiss to tell you what I was afraid to say, what I’ve always been afraid to say, afraid to even admit until we’re in a situation like this, until I can’t push it away or distract myself with something that doesn’t matter nearly as much. I love you. But I can’t tell you that now because it might sound like some kind of deathbed confession, and I can’t let you think you’re going to die. You’re not; I won’t let you die. 

One thing my father did that I am very thankful for at this moment was teach me how to survive. I hope you understand what I’m about to do. In this kind of cold, you need body heat. Direct body heat; our clothes are in the way. They’ve got to go. Your eyes are starting to drift closed, and that can’t happen. 

I lift your head up, and you slowly open your eyes. “Hey, Y/N. Stay with me. Okay? Keep your eyes open. Let me see how beautiful they are. Look at me, Y/N.” I put my hands on your cheeks and hold your face steady to keep you focused on me. “I need to get you warmer. My body can do that if I take off my clothes. It’ll be warmer that way. Okay?” You nod at me. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest. I’m scared, but I steady my voice for you. “Then, I’m going to take yours off, so our skin is touching.” You nod again. 

“Alright.” I kiss your forehead then take my jacket off, thinking I can put that on top of you later too. I take the rest of my clothes off and get back under the sleeping bag. I notice the snow is falling heavy outside. I hope Sam can find the car when he gets here. I’m careful when I take your clothes off to keep you under the covers. 

When everything is gone, it’s just you pressed up close against me. I’ve got to keep you awake, keep you talking. “When we get back home, I’m going to take you on a real date. The least I can do is take you to dinner after you got naked with me.” You smile at my stupid joke. That’s good. “We’ll go to Lawrence. I’ll show you where I grew up. There’s this steakhouse there that I can barely remember, but my dad used to take my mom there. They couldn’t afford a babysitter, so I went along. They had these menus for kids you could draw on, and I always got crayons. I colored everything blue. I remember my mom laughed about that.” 

This was too far down memory lane. I was probably boring you. “Do you like steak? We could have seafood instead, or Italian, or something. Anything you want.” 

“I like sweet potatoes. Can you get a sweet potato with your steak?” Crap. I don’t know. You couldn’t thirty years ago, but you couldn’t get sweet potatoes anywhere then. 

“You want sweet potatoes? We’ll go somewhere where they have sweet potatoes.” I kiss the top of your head again. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. We can go to a real city if you want. Go somewhere really fancy. Dallas maybe. Do you want to see the lights of the big city?” 

The only answer I got was, “You’re so warm, Dean. You feel so good.” 

I put my hand on the back of your head and held it. “I’m gonna make you say that under different circumstances.” My joke, that wasn’t really a joke, wasn’t working this time.

I wasn’t sure you even heard me, but then you whispered, “Promise?”

“Promise.” A single tear slid down my cheek.

The knock on the window was loud; it made me jump, but you didn’t notice. “Dean! Dean!” I have never been so happy to hear my brother. We’re going home, and you’re going to have those pajamas. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester​ @princessmisery666​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @peridottea91​ @logical-princey​ @emilyshurley​ @beenlovingromansincedayoneish​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @waywardbaby​ @atc74​ @ledzeppelinsbonzo​ @shaniquacynthia​ @mariekoukie6661​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @67-chevy-baby​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @terrarium-jpeg​ @emoryhemsworth​ @crashdevlin​ @heycasbutt​ @jules-1999​ @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sammyimpala-67​ @queenoftheunderdark�� @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​ @timelordy-fangirl2​ @sweetness47​ @hobby27​ @awesomesusiebstuff​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @neveratease​ @becs-bunker​ @sandlee44​ @supernaturalgrandma​ @lonewolf471​ @sea040561​ @dawnie1988​ @maddiepants​ @volleyballer519​ @outcastedangel​ @kdfrqqg​ @lizette50​ @daisymoder72​ @sorenmarie87​ @oldfreakything​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ @deansotherotherblog​

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee​ @flamencodiva​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @sammit-janet​ @focusonspn​ @akshi8278​ @ladywinchester1967​ @sgarrett49​ @wingedcatninja​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @ellewritesfix05​ 

[fanfics4all]

Lioness And Her Lion

Request: Yes / No  So the reader is Daryl’s younger sister and with soulmate marks Glenn and the Reader each have half of a tattoo please? any season is @julia-potter626​

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Glenn Rhee x Fem!Dixion!Reader 

Word count: 2645

Warnings: Nothing really I think

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My two older brothers taught me all about soulmates when I was growing up. They each had a different tattoo. Merle’s was a deer on his hand while Daryl had a really pretty cherokee rose with two arrows. 

They each got theirs when they were fifteen, so when it was my turn I was so excited to see what I would get! As soon as I blew out my candles I searched my body for the new tattoo. I found it quickly on my arm and smiled. 

“That’s pretty badass, little lady.” Daryl said with a smile. 

“I don’t know little lamb, seems you’re stuck with some asshole.” Merle said and Daryl smacked him. 

“Fuck off, don’t scare her.” Daryl growled and I rolled my eyes at my brothers. 

“Can you two please not fucking fight on my birthday?” I groaned. They always seemed to be at each other’s throats, but I was the only thing that seemed to bring them together. If anyone ever messed with me they would come together and take care of the problem. After I got my tattoo, they seemed to be extra protective of me. So when the world ended they took me with them and made sure I was always safe.

A month into the apocalypse, I had become really depressed. I gave up hope of ever finding my soulmate and my brothers noticed how crushed I was. Daryl always tried to keep my mind off it, or tell me that my person was still out there, but it was just so hard to believe that with the way things were going. It was especially hard to believe his words when I had Merle telling me that he was wrong and I should just give up like he did. Eventually the three of us found a group and joined them in surviving. Daryl had met his soulmate Carol, which went roughly, but turned out alright in the end. Merle had turned into more of a druggie and Daryl kept me away from him. I was honestly distant from everyone in the group. I was still so broken up about never finding my soulmate that I would just spend most of the time in my tent or out hunting with Daryl. 

One day I was sitting alone in my tent, just staring at my lioness tattoo. That's really how I spent a lot of my time. How could something so beautiful bring me so much pain? 

“Hey! Y/N!” I heard Daryl call for me. I sighed and pulled down my sleeve, then made my way outside. 

“What is it bubba?” I asked, walking over to him. I noticed he was standing with one of the guys in the group, Glenn I’m pretty sure his name is?

“What did I tell ya about using that damn nickname around other people?” He growled and I rolled my eyes. 

“Get over it. If you can call me little lady around everyone then I can call you bubba.” I said crossing my arms and he sighed. 

“Whatever. Kid, show her your arm.” He said to Glenn. 

“Uh, alright?” He said and extended his arm towards me. My eyes widened and I looked down at my covered arm. 

“D-Do you think?” I whispered and looked up at my brother for confirmation. 

“Only one way to find out.” He said and I pulled my sleeve up. I placed my arm next to his and our tattoos started to glow softly. Both our eyes widened and we looked into each other’s eyes. 

“It’s you…” We whispered at the same time. 

“Told ya you’d find him.” Daryl said and I smiled. 

“But, if you even think about hurtin her, you’re gonna deal with me!” Daryl threatened and I groaned. 

“Way to ruin the moment!” I said and my brother shrugged, but walked off. 

“I was honestly starting to lose hope.” Glenn said, making me look back at him. 

“I already lost hope, that’s why I’ve been so distant.” I blushed. Glenn placed his hand on my cheek, making me look into his brown eyes. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about losing me.” He said and I smiled. 

“I really hope so.” I replied. 

Our group had grown, which meant we needed a bigger place to keep everyone. We had found a prison that we were all living in, it was a nice little community. Everything was great, until the Governor attacked us with a tank. I was grabbed by Maggie during the attack and she helped me get to safety, along with Sasha and Bob. I had no idea where Daryl or Glenn were, and I had no idea if either of them were safe or dead. The four of us were in the fog and walkers were growling all around us. We all stood back to back killing any walker that made their way to us. It was hard and I was almost bit, but Sasha shot it. 

“You ready?” Maggie asked once we were all safe and recovered from the attack. 

“We should wait till the fog clears.” Sasha said. 

“We’ve been waiting a while.” Maggie said. 

“You see all this? We got lucky. We need visibility. And we’ve got six bullets left.” She sighed. 

“She’s right. We’ve been doing good following the plan. No need to get sloppy now.” Bob said and I rolled my eyes. 

“I am a tracker, I could just lead us away from the walkers.” I pointed out. 

“No, if we don’t keep you safe Daryl will have all our heads on spikes.” Sasha said and I sighed. 

“Glenn wouldn’t be too happy either.” Maggie said and I nodded. 

“Fine, whatever.” I said as Maggie pulled out a compass. 

“What is it?” Sasha asked. Maggie tossed it to her and sighed. 

“It’s broken.” She said and Sasha sighed in defeat. 

“We don’t need it. Sun comes up in the east, sets in the west. We’ll keep an eye on it in between. We’ll be fine, right Y/N?” Bob asked and I gave a small smile. 

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” I agreed. The two women didn’t seem too convinced, but didn’t say anything. 

Once the fog cleared we all headed out. We found some tracks and I sign that read.

‘Sanctuary for all community for all those who arrive survive Terminus.’ 

“Terminus. When we were out on the run to the veterinary college, we heard a message about this on the radio.” Bob said. 

“They were broadcasting?” Maggie asked. 

“What did it say?” Sasha asked. 

“Couldn’t make it out. I only know because I’m seeing it now. “Those who arrive survive.”” He answered. 

“We should go.” I said. Maybe Daryl and Glenn are there.  

“I thought we were looking for your brother and Glenn.” Sasha said. 

“What if they saw one of these? They would go looking for me looking for them.” I said and Sasha sighed. 

“Look at this map. All these tracks from different directions, all leading to the same place!” I said with a smile. 

“It’s far. And we don’t know if there are other signs.” Sasha said, thinking with her brain rather than her heart. 

“You don’t think this is the only one?” Maggie asked and I smiled slightly. 

“This is the best lead we’ve had so far. It says sanctuary. That’s just another reason to try. Others from the prison could be there. Tyreese.” Bob tried convincing Sasha. 

“If it sounds too good to be true… Maybe if Glenn or Daryl saw one of these, maybe they’d feel the same way.” She said. 

“Glenn wouldn’t. He’d believe, I know it.” I said. 

“And Daryl?” Sasha asked and I sighed. 

“Daryl would probably agree with you.” I answered and she nodded. 

“Look, what do you want to do, Sasha? Keep making these circles from the bus? Or are you talking about us starting to do something else?” Bob asked and she looked at him. 

“We’re not splitting up. That can’t happen. You want to take a vote or something?” He suggested. 

“We don’t need to vote.” She said and walked away. I smiled at the other two and followed behind them. 

After a while we set up camp in the woods nearby. Bob and Sasha stayed at the little camp while Maggie and I went to get firewood. Maggie had become the older sister I’ve always wanted. When we first met, she had become protective of me almost instantly, said I reminded her of herself when she was my age. 

“Sasha isn’t gonna go through with it ya know.” I said with a sigh. 

“Yeah, I know.” She also sighed. 

“I’m goin’ with or without them.” I said and she gave me a small smile. 

“Then I am too. I promised your brother and Glenn that I’d keep you safe.” My eyes widened. 

“Really? You’d risk everything for me?” She nodded with a smile. 

“Of course, I need to see my sister too.” She said and I nodded. 

We decided we weren’t gonna actually tell them we were leaving. Instead, while the two of them were asleep, we left a note. 

‘Don’t risk your lives 4 me good luck’ 

The two of us were off to Terminus. Trying to find anyone from the prison. Our siblings, my soulmate. We followed the tracks and ended up finding another sign. We ran up to it and I went to write on the box it was on, but a walker growled behind me. 

“I got it.” Maggie said, but I stopped her. 

“No, I got this.” I said with a smile. I walked up and kicked it in the knee, then stabbed it in the head. I cut its stomach open and used some blood to write on the box. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie’ 

Maggie gave me a smile and nodded for us to continue. She handed me a rag and I cleaned the walker blood off. 

“That was a smart idea.” She said and I smiled slightly. 

“Thanks, Daryl taught me use what you got.” I said and she chuckled. 

“Smart man your brother is.” She said and I nodded. 

“It came in handy when the world ended.” I said and she sighed. 

“The worlds not over.” I looked at her confused. 

“What’d you mean?” She smiled. 

“The worlds over when all the good people are gone.” She said and I thought about that for a moment. Maybe she was right. 

When we passed another building with a walker near it I did the same thing. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie’ 

I needed to leave a trail. I needed to be with them again. I needed to know they were alright. Not knowing anything was killing me, more than anything that’s happened before. I refused to believe either of them were dead. But I had to be strong like Daryl and even Merle taught me. Dixions were strong right till the very end. 

Maggie and I reached a town. The two of us decided to see if we could find anything. It was abandoned like most places were nowadays. There ain't nothin’ safe out there anymore. Terminus might not even be safe, but it could be safe enough for a while. Maggie might have wanted to look for supplies, but I needed to find another walker.

“We need to rest for a bit.” Maggie said and I sighed, knowing she was right. 

“Ain’t nothin’ looks safe enough.” I pointed out and she gave me a small smirk. 

“We got walker blood all over us, we could just lay in the small pile over there and blend in.” She said and I thought she was crazy, but it was the best idea we had. So, the two of us laid down and rested for a bit. 

We woke up to a sudden crash and walkers coming out from all their hiding spots. Maggie grabbed me and we went to grab some weapons. Maggie grabbed a sign and I pulled my bow from my back. We heard someone else fighting them and found Sasha on top of a car. The two of us joined in the fight. 

“Where’s Bob?” Maggie asked. 

“Out looking for you two.” Sasha answered. 

“What are you here?” 

“Supplies and rest.” Maggie answered and I bit my lip. 

“I was looking for another walker.” I said and Maggie looked at me with slightly wide eyes. 

“Obviously, we found more than I wanted…” I blushed slightly in embarrassment. 

“Y/N, we didn’t need to go into town to leave another message.” Maggie said, grabbing my shoulders. 

“I know, but what if they came through here before they saw any of those damn messages! I gotta leave as many as I can!” I said and She sighed. 

“We’ll find them.” Sasha said and we both looked at her. 

“We can make it there.” Maggie said. 

“I know, so let’s find Bob and let’s make it there.” She said and I smiled. 

It really wasn’t that long before we found him. All we had to do was follow the tracks, but at a faster pace. We saw him walking along the tracks and we all smiled. 

“Bob.” Sasha called and turned to face us. He smiled and the three of us hugged him. After the short reunion we followed the tracks to another sign. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie, Sasha, Bob’ 

We walked a while and made it to a tunnel. Another perfect spot for a message. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie, Bob, Sasha’ 

We all tried goin’ through the tunnel, but we heard walkers. We couldn’t go through. We had to go around, I only hoped my boys would do the same. During our trip we found some people in a car. They had been with Glenn! We all heard shooting from inside the tunnel and quickly drove in. 

“Get down!” Abraham shouted. Each of us took aim with our guns and killed the small hoard of walkers. When they were all dead I walked up to Glenn and hugged him crying. 

“Oh my God.” He whispered. We pulled apart and I kissed him more than once. 

“Hi.” I whispered. 

“Hi.” He whispered back. My heart felt fuller than it did before and we kissed again. 

All of us were clearing the walkers to the side, deciding to stay the night here. 

“God, you are so beautiful.” Glenn said after we just dropped a walker on the ground. I smiled and laughed. He was adorable as ever. 

“How’d it go?” Glenn asked Rosita as she walked back with the girl Glenn had been protecting. 

“End of the tunnel’s secure. If anything tries to come in, we’ll hear it in plenty of time. 

“We ain’t get to officially meet.” I said to the girl. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Tara, this is Y/N. Y/N, Tara.” Glenn said and she shook my hand. 

“Hi.” She said. 

“Hi.” I replied. 

“He’s a big fan of yours.” She said and Glenn gave a small chuckle. 

“I met Tara on the road. Couldn’t have made it here without her.” He said and I pulled her in for a hug. 

“Thank you.” I said. 

“When she heard what I was doing, she said she had to help me. She’s just that kind of person.” He said, smiling at her. If it was any other situation I would probably be jealous, but he was my soulmate and based on what she said, he talked about me a lot. Glenn grabbed my hand and I pulled him in for another kiss. My other half was back and I felt happy for the first time since the prison. Now all I needed was Daryl and my world would be perfect once again. But for right now, this was enough.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @lover2448​

[440mxs-wife]

Eight Years

Pairing: Dean x Reader. Other Characters: Sam x Eileen, Jody x Benny (not a vampire), Meg (not a demon) x Castiel, Rowena x Gabriel, Donna x Doug, Charlie x Stevie.

Word Count: 4995 (whew!)

Warnings: Mutual Pining, a smidgen of angst, mostly fluffy though.

Prompt: “Life is like a box of chocolates.”

Summary: Reader goes to Kansas City for a ‘Girls Weekend’ with her friends, while the guys decide to have a weekend of their own in the bunker. But, the guys get bored and decide to join the girls, which has everyone paired up except for Dean and the Reader. Will true feelings finally come out, or will it be Friend-Zone City?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jeans. Flannel/Hoodie. T-Shirts. Shorts. Swimsuit. Boots, just in case. You ran through the packing list in your head to make sure you didn't forget anything. The bag for your toiletry items was under the sink, so you put your toothbrush and other bathroom stuff inside. The last bits you needed to pack were the book you were reading and your phone charger. Once they were in your bag, you zipped it and threw it over your shoulder as you exited your room.

Sam was sitting at the map table, reading a book when you dropped your bag onto its surface. "All packed and ready to go?" he asked.

"Yep. Kansas City's not that far away, should you guys need any help with anything. Plus, I'll be with the 'Ladies' Hunting Contingent', so you'd have plenty of back-up," you chuckled.

"Nah, we're going to take the weekend off too. Dean said no hunting this weekend, so he invited the guys to come here," Sam replied.

"Really?" you asked incredulously.

"S'all your fault, you started it. Donna will be with you, which leaves Doug with nothing to do. Dean told him he should come here and hang out. In fact, you and Doug will probably pass each other on the highway," he grinned.

"Well, whatever. Y'all better behave yourselves," you warned.

"I'm sure we'll behave ourselves about as much as you girls are going to," Sam smirked.

"Ha ha, very funny. So, are you gonna miss me?" you asked.

"Nope, it'll actually be quiet without your snoring. But I bet Dean will," Sam countered. He knew about your feelings towards Dean, and figured out that the current ran both ways. Sam was convinced his life would be even better if only you and Dean would get past your self-doubts.

"'Dean will' what, Sammy?" Dean inquired as he pulled up a chair to the table.

"You'll miss her this weekend while she's gone," Sam clarified.

Dean then noticed your packed bag on the table. "Oh, that's right, this is your, uh, 'Girls' Weekend' in Kansas City," he replied. "That should be fun, all of you chicks together," Dean remarked.

"Yeah," you answered. But you didn't exactly answer the question, Dean...."I should probably get going. Got a decent drive ahead of me," you mumbled as you reached out to pick up your bag again.

"Here, I've got it, let me help," Dean picked up your bag and threw it over his shoulder.

You started to follow Dean up the stairs to the garage, but Sam called you back. Dean kept walking, so you said you'd meet him in the garage.

"C'mere, kiddo," Sam said as he pulled you into a hug. "Of course I'm going to miss you this weekend. And just because Dean didn't say so doesn't mean he won't miss you too. Maybe you should tell him--," Sam started.

You interrupted, "Wow, look at the time, I gotta go." You moved towards the stairs then turned to face Sam. "I'll miss you guys too. Have fun, you deserve it. Hell, we all deserve it," you chuckled softly. "Bye, Sam," you called as you made your way up the stairs.

Dean was waiting by your car when you entered the garage. "I put your bag in the trunk, I hope that was where you wanted it," he informed you.

"Oh sure, no problem. You didn't have to carry it up here for me, I would've managed okay. But thank you, Dean," you remarked.

"S'no problem, what are best friends for?" he replied, bringing you in for a hug that seemed a little tighter than usual. He pulled back abruptly and nervously cleared his throat. "Anyway, you should--ah--you should probably get going. Got that drive ahead of you, all by yourself. Drive careful," Dean said with a smile.

"I will. Have a good weekend with the guys, Dean. See you soon," you murmured as you ducked into your car. You turned the key and brought to life the rumbling engine of your 1968 Chevy Nova. With a slight wave of your hand, you backed out of the garage and drove out of sight.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You popped in an Aerosmith CD and cranked the volume as you tore down the highway. Dean certainly didn't approve of your decision to update the audio component for your classic car. But, driver picks the music, and you wanted more to choose from than the same 5 cassette tapes all the time.

Best friend, you muttered to yourself as you drove. After eight years, it's probably all I'll ever be to Dean. Even though he means more to me than I can ever put into words to tell him....

A pit stop at a Gas-n-Sip for fuel, snacks and a change in music to an 80s CD, and you were back on the road. After another three hours, you had reached your destination. It was an old ski lodge on the outskirts of the city that had been remodeled but without the ski lift. It had seven bedrooms and a wide open floor plan. The lodge came complete with a large kitchen, dining room and a common area with plenty of seating.

When you pulled up to the lodge, you saw Donna's truck, which brought you a little relief at not being the first one to arrive. She must have heard you drive in, because she came flying out of the front door over to your car.

Wrapping her arms around you, Donna nearly squealed with delight that you had finally arrived. "Oh, it's so good to see you!" she gushed. "I only got here about an hour ago, and I already picked out my room. Now that you're here, you get your pick!" she exclaimed.

You laughed as you retrieved your bag out of the trunk, linked arms with Donna then you both walked back into the lodge. She poured you a margarita as you unpacked your bag for the weekend. You sent Dean a text message to let him know you had arrived safely, then stowed your phone in your pocket.

By the time you came back out to the common area, Jody, Meg and Eileen had arrived. They gave you a hug in greeting, then went to stake their claims on the remaining rooms. Rowena and Charlie with Stevie rounded out the rest of the weekend's participants.

"Okay, everyone has a drink, right?" Donna asked. The ladies all nodded in agreement. "Good! Let our 'Girls Weekend' officially commence!" she declared. "Let's go 'round the room and give everyone an update. You know, say what or who we've been doing," Donna grinned mischievously.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at the Bunker.....

Dean watched as you backed your car out of the bunker's garage, gave him a halfhearted wave, then drove off down the highway. He was mentally kicking himself for not giving you a better sendoff than a hug and a 'drive careful'.

The two of you were alone in the garage and he had you in his arms. It was a comforting feeling, like coming home, and he never wanted to let go. You idjit, he thought to himself. That would've been the perfect time to tell her how you feel....if only you hadn't chickened out. Dammit.

Shortly after you left, Doug arrived. He entered the bunker with Dean and noticed that Benny, Castiel and Gabriel had also made their appearances. Sam introduced Doug to the new arrivals then showed him to his room for the weekend. Once Doug had finished getting settled, he came out to the common area in time to hear Benny ask, "So what are y'all drinking?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the lodge.....

Most of the ladies had given their update on their activities over the past month, leaving just you and Donna to spill your secrets. Charlie and Stevie were working together at a tech firm, but not for much longer. Between them, they almost had enough money saved and/or investors to start their own consulting business.

Rowena and Gabriel were seeing each other off and on, both trying to stay out of trouble. Sam and Eileen were still going strong, texting each other, and meeting for dates whenever possible.

Jody and Benny had started dating, having been introduced by Dean. Benny moved to Sioux Falls and was hired on as a bartender at the local tavern, where he fit right in with the locals. He and Jody tried to see each other as often as possible, depending on their schedules.

Donna and Doug were back together, with their relationship picking up where it had left off. He had finally come to terms with the whole 'monsters are real' thing, and had even gone on a couple of simple cases with Donna.

Finally it was your turn. "Nothing much to tell, really," you shrugged.

"What about that guy you went out with a couple of weeks ago, what was his name?" Eileen asked.

"I think his name was 'Mr. Not Dean Winchester'," Meg snorted.

"Aren't they all named that?" Rowena chimed in.

To everyone's surprise, you chuckled lightly. "Yeah, I suppose you could say that. Maybe I'm a sap for holding on these past eight years, but I can't help it. I love him," you replied softly.

"The heart wants what the heart wants, even if the head says something else," Jody interjected.

When Donna walked back into the room, you realized you didn't even notice she'd left. "So, I just got off the phone with Doug. The guys are bored, so they've decided to head up this way. I might have said they could stay here with us," she explained hesitantly.

The color drained from your face, because you knew what this meant. Everyone would be paired off, except you and Dean. You looked into your glass and drained what was left of your margarita. "I'll be right back, I need a refill," you remarked as you exited your chair. Every eye followed you as you left the room.

"Okay, girls. I think y'all know what we have to do about her and Dean," Donna whispered conspiratorially. Each woman nodded in return, signaling a readiness to do her part.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the Bunker....

Dean was sitting at the table, eating the last slice of a cherry pie you had made him yesterday. Damn, am I glad that woman can bake, he smiled to himself.

He thought back to the day you made him that pecan pie, when you had decided that a frozen crust wouldn't do. You probably didn't know, but Dean watched as you made your own crust. You had even incorporated some finely crushed pecans into it.

Dean followed your movements as you cut the butter in with the flour, then added the water and the rest of the ingredients. He was mesmerized as you worked everything together and rolled out the crust, singing to yourself. The entire time, you had this smile on your face, and he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen you so content.

Ever since the two of you met eight years ago, he'd always thought you were beautiful. Not just on the outside, but to him, your beauty radiated from within. You showed it in how you made sure that everyone's needs were met, usually before or instead of your own. It was in the way you interacted with people, especially children, and in how they responded to you.

Even though he'd sometimes flirt with you, often just to see you blush, there was truth behind his words. You'd captured his heart all those years ago. Now, if only he'd had the strength or courage to tell you....

Sam poked his head into the kitchen to see his brother taking his dessert plate to the sink to rinse it. "Hey, Dean? Doug was just talking to Donna on the phone, and he came up with the perfect idea. You know, something other than watching movies and drinking," Sam explained.

"Oh, but Sammy, movies and drinking does sound like a good idea," Dean retorted sarcastically.

"I think you'll like this idea better, though," Sam persisted.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine," he huffed. "What is this 'perfect idea'?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On the road:

The girls sent you into town to pick up some extra supplies, since the guys would be joining you tomorrow at the lodge. You still weren't sure that this was a good idea, but if the girls wanted to see their guys, you weren't going to stand in anyone's way.

You stopped at the meat counter for some burgers, hot dogs and thick-cut bacon. After grabbing a couple of onions, you headed for the canned goods to pick up some baked beans. Your recipe called for the addition of bacon and onions, and you knew at least Dean wouldn't mind.

Once you picked up some cold cuts, you wandered over to the snack aisle for potato chips. When you saw the graham crackers, you remembered that there was a fire pit outside. S'mores would be awesome, you thought with a smile. So, you added the chocolate bars and marshmallows to your cart.

At the lodge:

"Ladies, I checked the weather report, and tomorrow's going to be a perfect day to head out to the lake and go swimming," Charlie announced.

"You sure, hun?" Stevie asked.

"Of course I am, babe. Can't wait to see you all smokin' hot in that red bikini I know you packed," Charlie winked, causing Stevie's cheeks to get warm.

Jody wandered in to the common area, eyes glued to her phone. "Okay, I texted Benny for him to make sure everyone has swimming trunks packed," she remarked.

At that moment, you stepped through the kitchen door with grocery bags in your hands. "A little help, please?" you called. Everyone pitched in to transport the supplies from your car to the kitchen, then helped put everything away.

"Marshmallows, graham crackers--wait, are we making S'mores?!?" Donna squealed.

You nodded. "There are benches around a fire pit out there, might as well put it to good use. I also grabbed a couple of rotisserie chickens, some noodles and sauce for Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo." Your announcement was met with a chorus of appreciative groans from your friends.

"It's a wonder those boys haven't gained, like, a million pounds, if this is how you cook for them," Meg chimed in. "Especially with as many pies as you bake for Dean," she added.

"They work it off by chasing after or running away from monsters," you chuckled.

"Or through other activities," Eileen signed. You translated for the group and joined in the raucous laughter that ensued.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the Bunker, Next Morning:

"Rise and shine, Sammy! C'mon everybody!" Dean belted out as he knocked on Sam's and all the other doors. Dean had packed the night before, because he didn't want to waste any time in the morning. He poured some coffee into his travel mug and made his way to the bunker garage.

Some time later, they stopped at the gas station on the way out of town for fuel and snacks, then it was back on the road. Doug, Benny and Sam went back to sleep in the car, leaving Dean time to think. He knew that with his friends and brother pairing off with their girls, that was going to leave the two of you together.

Questions raced through his mind about whether or not he should confess his feelings for you. So much could go wrong that he wasn't sure if he should mention anything to you. Sam stirred in the passenger seat next to him.

"So, are you going to tell her?" Sam asked.

"Tell who, what, Sam?" Dean countered.

"You know what, and you know who. Are you going to tell your best friend that you are in love with her," Sam clarified.

"I've been asking myself that same question for the past 50 miles. So many 'what-ifs'. What if she doesn't feel the same is a BIG one. What if we get together then fall apart six months from now? What if something happens on a hunt and she get hurt, or worse? What if--" he stopped.

"Dean, you can't do that to yourself. That stuff could happen whether you confess or not, no one knows the future. You have to take life as it comes at you," Sam remarked.

"Life is like a box of chocolates, brother," Benny drawled from the back seat. "You never know what you're gonna get or what the future holds. At least with her, though, you know you've got a good woman who loves you."

"Dude, did you seriously just 'Forrest Gump' me in the middle of my love crisis?" Dean asked, which drew everyone's laughter. Even Dean laughed before turning serious again. "You really think she loves me?"

"Oh, ya, Benny's right, Dean. Anybody can tell by looking that she loves you," chimed in Doug. "I've seen the way she smiles whenever you enter a room, or how she blushes whenever you 'accidentally' brush her hand," he replied.

"Huh. I never noticed that. Guess I'd better do something about it, then," Dean remarked as he continued down the road to the lodge. A smile tugged at his lips as a plan formed in his mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At the lodge:

You were the first one out of bed in the morning, which meant you got first dibs on the hot water for a shower. On your supply run yesterday, you'd picked up bagels, cream cheese, muffins and some croissants for breakfast. A pot of coffee was started, and you filled a teapot with water for those not wanting coffee. You set the breakfast table with the baked goods, along with plates, cups and silverware.

At the counter, you started making the food for the picnic lunch by the lake with the guys. There were some sandwiches with ham, some with turkey and some with both. You even made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, just in case.

By the time the coffee had finished brewing, you had finished making the sandwiches. You put them in the fridge to go into the cooler later, and poured a cup of coffee. You tinkered with it until it tasted the way you wanted, then sat back in your chair to relax.

As you sipped your coffee, your thoughts wandered to the elder Winchester. Dean and the other guys were due to arrive any time, which excited and frightened you at the same time. You were excited to spend time with your best friend. At the same time, you were scared as hell that he would see past that, right through to where you hid your feelings for him. But then you thought, what if I didn't hide them this time?

Unfortunately, you didn't get a chance to answer yourself, because you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine. Coffee cup still in hand, you rushed to the front door to greet the boys. You opened the door and leaned against the door frame as you watched the guys pile out of the Impala. You put your finger to your lips to indicate that everyone else was still sleeping.

Dean was the first to reach the front door. "Morning, sweetheart," he greeted you with that sexy grin of his.

"Morning, Dean," you replied quietly, returning his smile. "Come on in, but please keep the noise down. Everyone but me is still sleeping," you said. "If you guys are hungry, there's breakfast stuff on the table, help yourself."

Suddenly, you felt someone take hold of your free hand as you walked to the kitchen. You turned and saw that it was Dean, which caused a warmth to bloom in your cheeks. Instead of letting go, your smile grew and you adjusted your hand so your fingers were laced with each other.

"Where can we put our bags?" Sam asked.

"For now, just leave them by the patio doors. Should be out of the way enough until you can each locate your girlfriend's room," you teased.

Dean leaned in close to your ear. "So, where does that leave me?" he rumbled, his breath hot against your skin.

"Um, well, I can show you to my room if you want to store your bag in there for now," you replied. "There's only the one bed, though, so....," you murmured.

"I'm okay with sharing....as long as you're sure you're okay with it, darlin'" he said smoothly.

You could only nod, because the power of speech momentarily eluded you in that exact moment. A shake of your head seemed to reboot your brain and return your voice. "My room is at the end of the hall, to the right, if you want to put your stuff away," you remarked.

Dean squeezed your hand before letting go and headed for your room. You quickly ducked into the bathroom to try and gather your wits about you. "Get it together," you hissed, pointing at your reflection. After splashing some cold water on your face, you went back out to join the others.

One by one, the girls trickled into the kitchen for coffee and whatever else for breakfast. Castiel and Gabriel had recently appeared and were saying hello to their girlfriends. Dean had returned as well, and took your chair just before you could sit down. Before you could walk away, he grabbed you around the waist and sat you down in his lap. "Comfy?" he asked with a smirk.

"So far, so good, Winchester," you countered with a wry grin. He wrapped one arm around your waist and hooked the other across your lap then gave you a squeeze in response. From the time you left the bunker to when the guys arrived, something seemed to have changed with Dean. You decided to go with the flow and see where it would lead.

In between bites of bagel, you explained the plans for the day. "We're going swimming at the lake, then we have stuff for a picnic lunch, with burgers, beans and hotdogs for dinner." Dean's eyes lit up at the mention of burgers. "And, since we have a fire pit, I got the stuff to make S'mores!" you added enthusiastically.

"You know, Dean is somewhat of an expert at roasting marshmallows," Sam threw in slyly.

"You are?" you asked as you gazed into his perfect forest green orbs.

"Oh yeah, sweetheart. I have it down to a science now," he boasted.

"This I've got to see," Meg replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The day could not have been more perfect for swimming and a picnic at the lake. You chose to stay on shore, relaxing with your book. Most of your reading is lore for whatever case you're working, so time spent reading for fun was golden. Every once in a while, your eyes would drift over to your friends, who were laughing and having the best time together.

A soft smile crept across your lips at seeing everyone so happy. You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you didn't hear Dean sneak up behind you. He leaned close to your ear. "You have a lovely smile. I've always thought so," he whispered.

You gasped in surprise at the proximity of his voice. "Thank you," you whispered back as your smile returned.

Dean sat down, cross-legged, on the blanket in front of you, while your eyes were still on your book. He gently pried the book from your hands and replaced your bookmark. Then he hooked his finger under your chin and tilted your face upwards to gaze into your eyes. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you," he started.

"Oh? What's that?" you asked, your voice wavering a bit as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

He nervously cleared his throat before speaking. "Well, you see, I--" he started.

"Hey you two, we're starving for some burgers and hot dogs! Can we please head back to the lodge to get cleaned up?" Meg broke in.

You put your hand up. "Wait a minute. Meg, can you guys give us a minute?" you implored. She shrugged and started walking back to the car. "What were you saying, Dean?" you asked.

Dean shook his head. "S'okay, we probably should head back anyway," he mumbled as he picked up the cooler.

Inside you were screaming at Meg for interrupting your conversation with Dean. You made a promise that if you and Dean were alone again, you'd ask him to finish his thought.

Dinner was a rousing success, with the juicy burgers and hot dogs, plus your kicked-up baked beans. As Dean was grilling the food, he was talking with the guys and laughing at their jokes. On the outside, he looked like he was having fun, but you were dismayed to notice that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

After dinner was done, Benny and some of the others went out to start the campfire and to make sure they had a good seat. Dean stayed behind to help you with the dishes, even though you told him he didn't have to, since he cooked. The two of you worked in a comfortable silence, even though the events of earlier were still on your mind.

Several rounds of S'mores later, everyone started to head off to bed, one couple at a time, leaving you and Dean alone again. There were still some marshmallows in the bag, so you grabbed a couple and held them up for Dean. "Okay, Winchester. Time to show me your marshmallow roasting secrets," you grinned.

Dean grinned back as he plucked them from your fingers and skewered them on the stick. "Now, if you're not careful, these will flame up and you're left with a blackened, charcoal mess," he began. He walked around the fire pit, trying to find the best heat source for the marshmallows. Once he found one, he moved so he was sitting on the other side of you on the bench. "The trick is to use the embers. That's where it's hottest, but you're less likely to 'flame out', as it were," he explained.

You watched his movements, completely entranced by his concentration and softness in his voice as he continued. "You kinda have to keep turning it, so it gets golden brown, but not torched." From the side, you could see a reflection of the flames, dancing in his eyes. "A few more turns, and voilà. The perfectly cooked marshmallow," he remarked.

Dean pulled the stick from the fire and carefully slid the marshmallow off of the end. You tried to take it from his fingers. "Ah ah ah, open up, sweetheart," he smirked. You did as he asked and he gently placed the marshmallow on your tongue. A groan of appreciation escaped your lips, as you broke the delicate crust that gave way to a melted but not molten center.

"Perfect," you whispered.

He slid the other marshmallow off the end of the stick and popped it in his mouth. A little of the melted center somehow ended up on the corner of his mouth. "Oh, wait a second, you've got some--um--some marshmallow on your--here, let me," you stammered.

Without thinking, you dove in and meshed your lips with his on the spot where you'd seen the marshmallow. When it seemed he didn't respond, you leaned back and broke the kiss. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean--I should go," you stood up from the bench to head back into the house.

Dean grabbed hold of your wrist to stop you from leaving. "Wait, I need to tell you something," he pleaded.

"No, it's all right, Dean. I get it, I made a mistake. You don't feel the same, and that's okay. Just please let me go inside," you whispered, tears threatening to fall.

"Aw, to hell with this," he growled as he closed the distance between you until you were mere inches apart. "I'm gonna finish what I started to say earlier. Then if you still want to run back inside, I won't stop you. Okay?" he asked sternly.

You nodded slowly. "Okay," he said more softly as he brushed the back of his knuckles on your cheek. "You and I have been best friends for the past eight years. Somewhere along the way, things between us changed. For me, anyway. I can't believe it's taken this long to tell you, but sweetheart? I am in love with you," he declared.

Tears of happiness streamed down your cheeks. "I've waited so long to hear those words. Wasn't sure I ever would, but I never gave up hope. I love you, Dean Winchester. Always have, always will," you replied. You placed one hand alongside his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

Dean gently brushed your tears away with his thumbs. Then he slipped his hand around to cradle you behind your head and inched forward until your lips met yet again. This kiss was different, because you felt the depth of his emotions contained within it. The friendship between you, his fear of your rejection at the offer of his love. And finally, his acceptance of your love for him.

When the kiss was broken, you pulled back a little from each other enough to rest your foreheads together. "I love you so much, baby," Dean whispered.

"I love you too, Dean. C'mon, let's head inside to my--our--nice and cozy room," you suggested.

"Right by your side, sweetheart. Forever and always," Dean added. He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, then you both walked back into the lodge.

Donna and Doug were in the kitchen with Jody and Benny, getting some water. "Goodnight, all," you and Dean called over your shoulders.

Jody smirked at Donna and held out her hand, into which Donna slapped a $10 bill. Donna rolled her eyes and said, "Shut up", which caused Jody to break out into laughter.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @yourelivingwrong​ @akshi8278​ @magssteenkamp​ @swiftlymoniquesblog​ @lyarr24​ @miss-nerd95​ @distefano123​ @hobby27​ @jessica-noel94​ @wayward-mikaelson​ @jawritter​ @gabrielslittleangel​ @jensengirl83​ @deangirl93​ @ellewritesfix05​ @supernatural-jackles​ @babygurltt​ @ejlovespie​ @flamencodiva @supernatural-love14​

[rudysrings]

Twin Pogues of the OBX - 9

A/N: I’ll explain my disappearance later. I just want to get this out for now. It’s a long one. But I’m happy to be back :P Love and miss y’all. 

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sex, mentions of drugs, police, DCS, mature themes. 

Words: 5.5k YEESH ALSO AHH MIDSUMMERS :D

Masterlist

Kiara and you arrived at the Chateau together, well after sunset. The silhouettes of Pope, JJ and your brother were clear against the moonlight, quiet as they lie in the hammock.  

You and Kiara slipped into the netting silently. Your shoulder was up against JJ’s bare bicep, and you fought the urge to move closer.

“You really think it’s out there? No bullshit?” 

You felt JJ’s gaze on you, a million different emotions brought to the surface by his mere stare. 

John B admitted that he did believe after hearing your father’s voice on the tape.

“Well we’re going to find it, you know. Even JJ believes,” said Kiara, looking over at you two.

Surprised, John B asked, “Oh my God, JJ, do you really believe?”

On instinct, even though he clearly hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, JJ replied, “Totally.” Then paused, confused. “Wait, are we talking about four mil?”

“Four hundred mil!” 

All of you chorused, causing JJ to roll his eyes and turn onto his side, facing you. “I’m going to dream about shipwrecks. Good night, Bird!” 

“Goodnight, bird shit!” Pope mocked.

All of your friends were asleep. You could hear John B’s loud snores and Kie’s soft murmurs. Pope’s body was halfway off the hammock in his state of unconsciousness.

You turned, lying down on your side and startling slightly at the wide eyes looking back at you.

Before you could chide him for creeping, JJ whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Immediately, you whispered back, “I’m sorry, too...Are we gonna be ok?”

JJ hushed you. “It’s you and me, Trouble. We’re always gonna be ok.”

The two of you didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to. 

The five of you set off in search of the coordinates the following morning. There was an unmistakable air of excitement but also somehow nonchalance. Everyone wanted this to be it, but was too afraid to believe in it.

JJ was at the wheel of the HMS Pogue, his sunglasses and signature red cap making him look especially good in the Carolina sun. 

You noticed yourself noticing things like this even more than you did before. This morning, you woke up before everyone else and found yourself admiring the early morning silhouette of the blonde that currently occupied all your thoughts. Pope caught you, incredibly confused why you were staring at his best friend like a dazed puppy. Luckily, your reputation pulled through and he simply scolded you for being stoned so early. Yeah, that’s right, simply looking at JJ made you seem high. You were in a shitload of trouble. 

You were supposed to be helping Kiara release the rope with the drone attached at the end, hurriedly tossing it into the water against the raging winds. Y’all had picked the worst time to do this.

You caught yourself distracted by JJ, who was furiously spinning the wheel to John B’s directions. There was something about that shirt. He flicked his head back to see how you guys were doing and scrunched his eyebrows inquiringly when he noticed you watching him. You shook your head, trying not to get embarrassed. Too late. “Y/N!” Kiara slapped your shoulder, forcing you to pay attention to the rope that the current was currently tugging away. Shit. You refocused, but not before catching the upward tilt on JJ’s lips at your ridiculousness.

960 feet.

 970.

 980.

 “I’m at the bottom!”

“See anything?” Called JJ.

“It’s the Royal Merchant,” You heard your brother say, raising the hair on your arms. 

You and Kiara rushed over, your arm on John B’s shoulder as you tried to look over him at the monitor. He was right, you could see old, rusted over debris from the wreck scattered all over the ocean floor. But...no gold.

You looked at your feet in disbelief. Clenching your fists as your heart dropped. You met JJ’s eyes, shaking your head sadly. He nodded at you, shrugging as if to say. What did we expect? You didn’t miss his heavy disappointment. That look steeled you. Gold or no gold, you’d find a way to get JJ out of this shithole.

“Somebody beat us to it,” John B muttered.

“Or it was never there,” Grumbled JJ. 

You and John B dropped the pogues off, each of them saying goodbye rather emotionally, drained from the loss of something you never had. Kiara ruffled your hair, reminding you, “Chin up, yeah?” as she left. Pope simply pulled all of you into a quick hug, giving you a pat on the back. 

JJ, as always, was more subtle, more secretive. As John B steered the boat towards the docks, he sat next to you, pulling your hand into his lap without looking at you. He rolled his lips, before bringing his elbows onto his knees and leaning his forehead on his hands that encased one of yours. He breathed deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he looked at you, offering you a smile and twirling your ring. He echoed his words from last night. “We’re gonna be ok.”

You nodded fiercely, smiling. “I know, Bear. We always are.”

You and John B walked up to the Chateau alone, gear in hand. He draped an arm around you, pecking the top of your hair. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I really thought it would.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you did, anyway. Maybe your brother needed to hear it or maybe you needed to say it; whatever the reason was, you said, “Yeah, me too. I really hoped Dad didn’t give his life for nothing.”

John B pulled you closer into his side as you walked, for once not disputing your claim on your father’s death. 

The two of you walked inside, only to see...fucking Cheryl from foster care on your couch.

You startled immediately, pulling your brother behind you. “Hey, guys,” the devil incarnate greeted.

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the table as John B sat down. You sighed. “You know, Cheryl, it’s kind of a bad time for a check-in.”

She smiled. “Not a check in. We’re here to take you.”

Your eyes widened. “Today? Really?”

“It’s just for a few weeks until your hearing.”

John B spoke up. “No, no, no. Cheryl, look, we’re not going into foster care, okay? We’re not going to go be a part of your little system.”

“Kids, this is Deputy Thomas.”

Before you knew it, Deputy Thomas had you and your brother in the back of his car, driving you to your fate. 

John B pulled a clever trick though, and as he picked up the picture of your dad that Cheryl had been foolish enough to let you guys grab, you both looked at each other once, before breaking into sprints in opposite directions.

You ducked under some trees, peeking over the corner of your shoulder to see Deputy Thomas chasing your brother. He’d have to get away somehow. You had to trust that. You looked forward, running through the neighborhoods you knew so well and dialing the first person you thought of.

“Yo! Me and Po-” 

“JJ!” 

You made your way towards Heywards, figuring he must be with Pope. “Woah, what’s with the excitement. I know I’m a riot, but-”

“JJ, shut up! It’s DCS.”

“What? Are you alright? What’s going on?”

“I got away. I’ll see you at Heywards.”

“Wait, Y/N-”

You hung up as you neared the store, seeing JJ out front, staring at his phone in concern, a deep set frown on his face.

“JJ!”

You nearly crashed into him, but stopped short, your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath.

Pope came out, too, noticing you. “Ayo, Y/N. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“What? No. I just got away from Deputy Thomas.”

“What the fuck? Did he do something to you?” 

“Why are you running from the cops?”

JJ and Pope questioned you immediately. “I-no, I’m fine. Like I said, I ran away. They’re trying to take us away until our hearing in a few weeks. But I don’t know if John B got away. Listen, I shouldn’t be here. They’re gonna come looking for me.”

“Then come with us,” insisted JJ.

“No, I wouldn’t put it past them to search the waters.”

“Stay here, then,” Pope offered. “You know my Pops will cover for you.” 

You agreed. JJ furrowed his brows. “Then we shouldn’t go. We can’t leave her like this, Pope.”

You shook your head, grabbing JJ’s hand. “No, you guys go. Anyways, if they turn up here, they’ll be more suspicious if y’all are here. They’ll expect me to be with you. Trust me.”

Pope nodded, going back inside to let his dad know. JJ held your shoulders, leaning down to look at you. “Be careful, yeah? Nothing stupid.”

“You’re one to talk.” You tried not to notice how close he was to you. 

I’m fucking serious, dude. There’s nothing I can do if they take you away from me. I don’t want us in the position, got it?”

You nodded, taken aback by his seriousness but grateful for it nonetheless. 

He pulled his cap off, messing your hair before slipping it over your head. “Stay low, Trouble,” He said as he walked off towards the docks.

You walked inside, smiling at Pope’s dad. “Thanks for this, Mr. Heyward.”

He nodded at you. “Any time. I know all about that foster system. You’re better off dead than stuck in that, kid.”

You agreed, taking some boxes from his hands and getting right to work.

You spent the day at Heywards, hiding out in his freezer when the Deputy came over.

That evening, Kiara dropped by Heywards and convinced you to come to one of those old movie nights that you usually spent your summers at--summers free of treasure hunts. She explained that you’d be hidden amongst everyone from town and JJ and Pope would be there too, so there was no reason for you not to come. 

JJ held your hand tightly, his eyes darting around the crowd constantly. You hadn’t questioned his jitters or why his grip on his bag was so tight, but your fingers were starting to give to the pain of being crushed.

“J. Shit. My hand, bro.”

He looked down, instantly letting go and looking apologetic. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You shook your head as you walked over to Kiara.

You lied down and didn’t bother listening to the conversation, too worried about your brother either being dead in a ditch somewhere or in Deputy Thomas’ clutches. He hadn’t called once.

Until you heard, “JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here.”

You sat up immediately, “JJ what?”

“There are children here,” You heard Kiara say.

You raised your eyebrows at him, ignoring Pope and Kiara’s words as you stared. “Are you kidding me, dude? A fucking gun?”

He had the decency to look a little ashamed, staring at his feet and biting his lip.

During the movie, the boys ventured off to take a piss and you and Kiara joked that they must be holding it for each other. Honestly it was ironic given the amount of shit they gave you and Kiara for going to the bathroom together only to do it themselves.

It was not more than a few moments later that you heard glanced over to see JJ and Pope gone. You grabbed Kiara and walked behind the giant projector screen, shocked to see Pope in Topper’s hold and Rafe and Kelce grappling with JJ. “Let go of him, Topper! Fascist Asshole!” Kiara cried, using JJ’s bag to hit Topper. 

“Get off him!” You turned to JJ and shoved Rafe, grabbing his shoulders and pulling his jaw down to meet your knee. “2 on 1...real fair, Rafe,” you sneered into his ear as he groaned, clutching his smarting jaw.

You saw Topper toss Kiara and instantly reddened with rage. You grabbed his hair, pulling him to the ground with force. He grabbed your ankle and you would have fallen if JJ wasn’t right behind you, helping you up. Kelce and Rafe were on you again and you couldn’t get out to help Pope, who Topper was about to suffocate. 

“Come on, man, admit it! Admit you did it, bitch!” He threatened Pope and you screamed.

“Get the fuck off of him, Topper! What the fuck! Please!”

You heard Rafe tell Topper to finish him off and let out a strangled cry, locking eyes with JJ, who for once, looked scared, too.

All of a sudden, it was hot. Really, fucking hot. You looked around to see the movie screen going up in flames; you heard shouts as people fled the burning scene.

Kiara. Instantly, the kooks let you go. Kiara helped Pope up and JJ coughed, nearly falling forward, but you caught him, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “You’re a fucking idiot, J,” you hissed.

He ignored you, simply pressing his lips to your cheek. “What was that for?”

“That was for bruising the fuck out of Rafe Cameron’s jaw,” JJ said smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s one of the moves I picked up from you, actually.”

“Exactly. You did me proud.”

“No, what the fuck, JJ? They almost killed you guys. Kie saved your asses.”

He leaned on you heavily as you walked and his off-beat steps had you realizing that he was faking the limp. You hid your smile. 

You couldn’t stay at the Chateau anymore, not with DCS watching it, so all of you apart from Kiara crashed at Heywards.

JJ and you took the couch, not unused to spending the night together on all sorts of odd surfaces.

As you lie down, head on his shoulder and body overlapping his slightly, he pet your hair. The silence was absolutely insufferable.

“Hey, Trouble?” JJ asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed.

He sighed, pondering his words. “I know you’re scared to…to change anything between us.”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes shut as you just listened. 

“I just-I just want to tell you that I...I would take care of you, Y/N. I swear on it. I would. I’d...I’d-fuck, why am I so bad at this?”

He took a breath again and you could imagine the adorable look of frustration on his face. You felt his arm raise, probably to run through his already messy hair. You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling. 

“I just want you, yeah? Any way you’ll have me. Just...think about it.”

He settled in, then, his breathing evening out. You peeked your eyes open to see his shut; he looked dead asleep.

Your fingers slowly made their way into his. You ducked your head further into his chest and felt him squeeze your palm. Oh, so he was awake?

Blushing, you decided this was a problem for tomorrow, and instead let his presence lull you into slumber, dreaming of John B being chased around town by Deputy Thomas.

When you woke, JJ was gone. You heard voices in the store though and made your way towards them. You found Kiara, Pope and JJ. Your eyes met Kiara and she shook her head sadly. No John B. You saddened visibly.

“Morning!” JJ greeted with a grin, throwing some sort of rubber ball from the tourist section at you. You caught it, walking up to him and placing it at his chest. 

“Morning, J,” You said, surprisingly shy.

“Hey, Pope. Someone here to see you.” Mr. Heyward entered. “Y/N, you don’t want this one to see you right now.”

JJ took one look outside and shoved you down by the shoulders, pushing you behind one of the shelves. “Stay down!” He whispered.

You heard Pope say “Evening, Officer and your eyes widened.”

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.”

Oh, fuck, Pope got caught. Your heart sped up, and you twisted your ring in worry.

You heard the distinct metallic sound of handcuffs and next thing you knew, Pope was being taken away, arrested by Shoupe. You heard everyone go outside but couldn’t make out any words. You waited a few minutes, waiting for the sound of the car driving away.

You got up, heading outside to see Kiara, Mr. Heyward and Pope? You rushed over to him, pulling him into a hug. “Oh, thank God, I thought he arrested you, man.”

Pope was rod straight. You pulled away, confused. Kiara was standing there in utter shock. Wait, where was JJ?

“What-what happened? Why are you like that? Who died?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

Mr. Heyward shook his head, going inside.

You looked at Kiara and she said, “JJ told Shoupe that he did it. Shoupe took him away.”

Your stomach fell. Clutching the cloth of your shirt, you asked, “JJ did what?” 

You blinked away the tears before your friends could see them. “We have to do something. We have to bail him out.”

“There’s nothing we can do, Y/N,” Kiara insisted.

You looked at Pope, who looked lost. 

“Well, if you guys won’t, then I will!”

Pope grabbed your arm, pulling you back. “No! Look, Y’N. Kiara’s right, there’s nothing we can do right now. And you can’t do anything, you can’t risk getting taken away by DCS.”

“FUCK DCS, Pope! JJ’s in jail!”

“They won’t keep him there for long, Y/N,” Kiara said, stepping closer. “He’ll be ok.”

You thought it over. You couldn’t think of anything you could do except stomp over to the sheriff’s office and demand that JJ be released, but that wouldn’t go over well for either of you. “Fine. You’re right. We just have to hope for the best.”

Kiara had you spend the night at her house, both in an effort to cheer you up and because it was Midsummers the next day and the only way she said she’d go is if you came with her. It wasn’t a bad hiding place. There were no cops at Midsummers so you’d be alright.

She saw you fidget all day, restless. Your brother was missing and JJ was rotting away in a cell as far as you knew. It got you thinking, though, if anything were to happen to JJ, you would regret most not coming clean to him that you liked him more than a friend. Yeah, you were admitting it to yourself. You cared about JJ in a way you had never cared for anyone ever. Even though that thought was enough to scare you to your bones, right now, all you could think about is how much you wish he knew. You hoped you knew without you having to say it, but he deserved to hear it. 

Kiara took the liberty of trying to distract you as best she knew how. She helped you get dolled up for that evening. She was wearing the most beautiful deep lavender dress you had ever seen. She offered you her entire closet and she was a little disappointed when you chose a halter jumpsuit, but when she saw how nice the rich, sunset orange went with your skin tone, and how the low cut neckline down to almost your waist and lack of a back flaunted some skin, she caved. 

She did your makeup so that you glowed golden and your hair was free. You let yourself get lost in the process, realizing you had missed out on stuff like this after your mom left.

It was tradition to wear a flower crown, and you chose peach colored hibiscuses to decorate yours, weaving them together with jasmines in between to make it smell nice. In the end, as you and Kiara stood side by side, you thought you looked like prairie girls, but she said that was the aesthetic and you should shut your mouth and go with the theme. 

The party was loud. It wasn’t loud like the keggers you had on the cut, it just screamed money and status. Every little thing was done up in a way to show something off. The food they chose was to prove that they had a taste for the richer things, which were much worse than a meal at the Wreck in your opinion. The drinks were aged to perfection and people spent more time staring and discussing the bottles than drinking, completely juxtaposed to the fast pace of the lines at the beer kegs that you were used to. Saying you felt out of place was an understatement.

You knew Pope was working the party and Kiara and you caught sight of him pretty quick. They exchanged some witty banter and you raised an eyebrow at Kiara, only for her to blush and shake her head, wordlessly denying anything. You did your usual handshake with Pope and pulled him in for a hug. “I like the fit,” he complimented. You smiled. “Hey, have you heard from JJ?” Pope asked. 

You looked down, shaking your head. “I-No. He has to be okay, though.”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright. He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.”

Pope frowned. “It’s all my fault.”

“Uh-you didn’t do this, Pope.”

You nodded. “Kie’s right, Pope. You can’t blame yourself for this. JJ made his decision on his own.”

You pulled Kiara towards you. “Come on, let’s dance. I need to not think about anything, right now.” You called out to Pope, “Catch you later!”

You were dancing with Kiara and a couple other kooks she was chill with. The song taste wasn’t your favorite, but it was something to get your mind off all your problems. 

When a particularly ear-bleeding song came on, you couldn’t help yourself. Holding Kiara’s upper arm, you admitted to her, “I’m really fucking worried about, John B. I’m hoping he’s ok and just being stupid by not calling me. I don’t know what I’m going to do if something happens to JJ. I’m worried that even if he gets out, his dad-”

Kiara wrapped her arms around you, shushing you. “I know, babe. I can’t say much to help you, but have a little faith, hmm? We’ll deal with whatever happens.”

You nodded, before looking over her shoulder to see Pope and a blonde waiter. Wait, no, that wasn’t a blond waiter. No one else on the cut had those rings and that tousled hair.

“JJ!” You cried, breaking out of Kiara’s embrace. He must not have heard you over the music, because he didn’t look at you, still talking to Pope. Your legs couldn’t carry you fast enough.

You shoved indignant people out of your way, ignoring their shrieks and curses. Your hair flying, jewelry clinking together, you threw your arms around him, forcing him to take a few steps back from the momentum. He held your shoulders, pulling you away from him. “Ma’am--wait, Y/N?” 

“JJ! You’re okay!” 

He smiled, pulling you into a hug. He dropped his head to your hair and you held tight to his neck, face tucked into his neck. “Thank God,” You whispered.

You looked up at him, noticing now the clear dark marks of fresh bruises all over the left side of his face. His lip was busted open and his eye slightly swollen.

You touched his cheek. “J, did Shoupe-”

JJ shook his head. “Oh, nah. This was-this was my dad. Has the right jab.” 

You were quiet for a moment, before saying, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“No, no, no.” JJ’s grip tightened on your arms. “You can never go near him, got it?”

“J, I-”

“Swear you won’t, Y/N,” He insisted, looking scared. 

“I won’t,” You gave in. 

Something came over you then. Some rush of emotion, a rush you had been experiencing more and more often around the blonde. “J, I-I want to talk about what you said that night-”

JJ’s eyes widened almost comically. A shocking flush crept up his neck and you almost smiled at his adorable awkwardness. He glanced at Pope behind you, reminding you that he was watching your entire exchange. “Hold that thought, yeah?”

You nodded. He pecked your cheek, making it heat up as you looked anywhere but at him. He let go of you, stepping away and into the crowd. 

Pope looked at you incredulously. 

“What?”

He parted his lips in disbelief, waving at the air between you and where JJ stood, like his question was obvious.

You simply repeated your question.

Pope sputtered. “What you ask? Since when has that become a thing? I didn’t know y’all were having a thing.”

“We’re not!” You said quickly.

Pope laughed. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

You looked around the crowd, not spotting JJ. You frowned, where had he gone?

Your question was answered pretty quick. You noticed a commotion across the party and saw JJ being escorted out of the party. He downed a gentleman’s drink and the action was surprisingly attractive. 

You noticed Kiara shouting, trying to prevent him from being thrown out. Grabbing onto Pope, you made your way over to them.

“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie!” JJ called, walking out. You saw him meet up with John B. Your breath came back to you seeing your brother alive and intact.

JJ noticed you out of the corner of his eye and grinned wide, holding his arms out for you. You didn’t think twice, letting him spin you around and grab your hand as the five of you ran off.

A fire was soon set up at Rixon’s Cove, and JJ had changed into normal clothes, though you had to admit, you didn’t mind the look he was sporting before.

JJ lay across a log, his head in your lap, looking up at your face, which was lit up from the fire light. He didn’t smile, didn’t say anything, just looked at you as you ran your hands through his hair, refamiliarizing yourself with him even though he had only been gone about a day. His absence reminded you how used to seeing him you were, how used to touching him. 

“Alright, my dad’s going to kill me, anyways. So what’s this mandatory meeting about?”

You were wondering that, too, and looked up at your brother, waiting for an explanation.

JJ sat up beside you. “We might as well tell them, man, before we get gaffed.”

“Gaffed?”

You soon learned that the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant. It was on Tannyhill. What concerned you, actually what made your blood boil, is how your brother had gone about finding this information.

Kiara voiced your concerns. “You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron while Y/N thought DCS had for sure taken you away?”

You stood up, glaring at John B. “You better be fucking with me. Not one call? What, you were too busy macking on here and prancing around the mainland to let your goddamn sister know that you were alive?! I was so scared, you ass!”

John B shuffled his feet, before walking over to you. “You’re right. Ok? You’re always right. I didn’t think. I’m-I’m sorry for worrying you, kid, alright?”

You were prepared for him to blow up at you. A sincere apology was the last thing you expected. “Maybe Cameron’s a good influence on you. First time I’ve heard you say sorry since you broke my collarbone in the fourth grade.”

“That was JJ’s fault, though.”

“That’s debatable.” 

John B pushed your forehead and you sat back down.

The storm came on suddenly. Not a regular storm either—a full on, thundering, lightning outer banks storm. The four of you huddled in the van as your brother went to meet Sarah Cameron and figure out the exact location of the gold. 

You groaned, pulling your hair up away from your sweaty neck. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”

You began to get up. “Where you goin’?” JJ asked.

“It’s too fucking hot. I’m going to step out for a sec.” You paused before saying, “Come with.”

Pope began to get up, too, but Kiara stopped him, hissing something in his ear. 

JJ followed you out, falling in step with you as you made your way into the cool night air. Your pace was slow, unhurried, unbothered by anything right now, because everyone you cared about was safe. 

But, that thought from earlier in the day, that regret, still remained. You looked at JJ and he offered you a shy smile, offering you his hand and quirking an eyebrow in question. You took his hand, your arms brushing against each other as you walked.

“I almost didn’t recognize you today. You look like a right kook.”

You wrinkled your nose. “That’s offensive.”

JJ shoved your shoulder with his. “No, that’s not what I meant. You look great. For real. You look like the goddamn outer banks sunset threw up all over you. I mean that in the best way possible.” His eyes sparkled with eagerness. 

You smiled at his attempt at complimenting you. “I’ll take it as such. Thank you, JJ. You looked nice in your disguise, too.”

“Nah, it was too stuffy for me.”

“That’s ‘cause you probably haven’t had a smoke in a hot minute.”

JJ snorted. “That could be it.” 

You were quiet for a moment, just walking, stealing glances at each other. “JJ,” You said, stopping. 

He stopped, too, turning towards you. “Yeah?”

“You remember all those chick flicks John B used to drag us to on the weekends? The ones where the heroine would be all ‘my world revolves around you’ and ‘I can’t breathe without you’ and ‘you give my life meaning’ and all that?”

JJ scrunched his nose. “How could I forget that kind of trauma?”

You stepped closer to him, taking both of his hands in yours. “I’m only going to say this once, we are never to speak of it again and if anyone asks I will deny it.”

JJ choked on a laugh. “Alright, Trouble, you have my attention. I’m listening.”

“That’s just it, J. You have my attention. All of it. All the time. Those romantic movies are the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. They’re absolutely, clinically insane. I don’t get it and I probably never will. All I know is that when I’m drowning, you’re the first person I think about. I know that you’re the only one who has ever seen that I’m so incredibly fucked up and not wanted to fix my behavior. I know that when you’re hurt, which is way too often, I go absolutely batshit with worry, seriously it’s a problem. I know that, especially recently, I can’t stand the sight of you macking on anyone.”

JJ looked like he was losing control, and you hoped that it wasn’t in a bad way. His breaths were coming faster and his hands gripped yours tight. “What are you saying, Trouble?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m saying I’m in love with you, JJ.” JJ's face broke into a blinding smile, encouraging your words. “I can’t promise you that I love you like in John B’s movies—”

“--Thank God.”

“--But I can promise that the way I love you is crazy in its own right. The good kind of crazy. I’m still scared. God, I’m still so scared, JJ. I don’t know how to do this. I’m still so afraid that I’m going to fuck up in some way. So that’s why I’m tell you this now.” You held his face in your hands, pulling him close so that he would hear your words, really hear them. “If you let me love you, I swear on poguelife that as long as it’s in my hands, I will never make a decision that will hurt you. That I promise you.”

You noticed JJ tearing up. He swiped his eyes with his thumb. “Fuck, dude, you’re making me cry.” He laughed tearfully, bringing his hands to rest on your waist and leaning his forehead on yours. “I know, dude. Everything you’re telling me--I know. I know you’re scared. I’ve never seen you scared of anything, even though you really should be, but this scares you. But I love you, yeah?” 

You nodded, biting your lip against the tears.

“Trust that. Please, even if you trust nothing else, trust that I love you. Because it’s where I put my faith. Kie tried to take me to church once, but man I don’t think I have ever had anything nearly as religious as how I feel about you, Y/N. It’s constant. It-it centers me. It grounds me. So if we’re going to do this, you have to promise me something.”

“Two promises in one day? You’re getting greedy there, Maybank.”

“It’ll be worth it,” he assured you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then it’s done.”

“You have to promise me that if you get scared, you’re going to talk. You’re not going to run, you’re going to talk to me and we’re going to figure it out together, yeah?”

“Done. Can I kiss you now?” 

“Fuck, yes. 

And then you heard the screams.

Masterlist

Tag List (If there is a strike through your user it’s bc I couldn’t tag you bc tumblr is wack sometimes…)

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I also lost my updated tag list i’m so dumb so let me know if I told you i would tag you and i didn’t oop

Stay safe and stay healthy!

[jawritter]

Elf

Summary: Maybe being stuck at home for Christmas with Dean during a snow storm, isn’t so bad after all. 

Warnings: Light Smut, unprotected smut, language, fluff. That’s about it really. 

Word Count: 2814

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: Elt

A/N: This fic was written for @janicho88 100 follower Christmas Celebration! Congratulation on the new milestone hun! This fic was also beta’d by the lovely @miss-neard95!! Thanks so much love!! As always please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one! We need a little Christmas in September! I mean hey? Why not? LOL 

 Want more? Check out my Masterlist, or become a patreon for exclusive fics!

***MASTERLIST***              ***BECOME A PATREON***

You shivered as a cold draft of air blew into the Bunker behind you, Dean closing the door as quickly as he could with his hands full of groceries. 

It had been snowing for three solid days now, and there were no signs of letting up any time soon. Dean was convinced that this was how the world was going to end - you were all going to freeze to death. He hated the cold, hated the snow, and more than that, he hated the holidays that usually came with this kind of weather. 

You and Dean made your way towards the kitchen with this week’s supplies, as well as the next in your hands. Normally you would only buy enough for a couple of days, but since the weather conditions only seemed to worsen, you figured it might be best to stay hunkered down for a little while. 

You dumped the bags down on the counter, Dean mimicking your actions,  before the both of you shrugged out of your coats, throwing them down over the table in the corner with a huff as you looked at the sprawling display of things in front of you that needed to be put away.

“Okay,” Dean said, warming his hands by blowing on them and rubbing them together as his piercing green eyes scanned the items on the countertop. “You put away the freezer stuff, and I’ll clear up everything else except your lady products.”

A wicked smirk tugged on your lips as you grabbed the box of Tampons out of the bag, waving them around in front of his face in a  manner that you knew was childish, but Dean seemed to bring out the brat in you. 

“You mean these lady products, Dean?” You asked, giving him a cheeky smile that could make the Cheshire Cat jealous. 

Dean's wrinkled nose with his lips in a grimace was the cutest look of disgust you had ever seen, not that his perfect face wasn't a factor, swatting your hand away like you were holding something revolting.

“Yes, that. Now come on, I want to get out of these jeans, and change into something warmer.” He turned his back to you in mock annoyance as you placed the tampons back on the counter with a chuckle, and started putting the frozen foods away.

It was quiet in the Bunker for the most part. Sam was snowed in at Jody’s when he’d gone up there last week to work on a case with the girls, and that just left Dean and you alone in the Bunker for the foreseeable future-or at least until the snow melted enough for Sam to make it home. 

Cas and Jack were on some sort of 'Angel business' and neither of you, dared asking exactly what that was. Some things you were just better off not knowing until there was no way to ignore them.

Christmas was two days away, and while Dean never really made a big deal about the holidays, you always enjoyed celebrating them. It was the only thing you ever looked forward to as a kid growing up in the hunting life, something your mother tried to hold on which became a normal for you. It was the only reminiscent of your childhood, and something that you clinged to for comfort.

Once you were done, you saw that Dean was still working, so you grabbed the sanitary products and made your way to your room to change into your fuzzy pajama pants, and one of Dean’s old flannel you had stolen from him when you had first moved into the Bunker.

You didn’t need said lady products right now, but you didn’t want to be trapped here without them either. It sucked to be a female because you had to make sure you were prepared for these types of situations, hunter or otherwise. You never knew when you were going to need them, but it was usually at the most inconvenient moments of your life.

You smiled as you made your way from the bathroom after stashing the box away to your bedroom to change, thinking about Dean’s adorably childish reaction to you messing with him in the kitchen just now. 

You knew he was just playing with you. Dean wasn’t bothered by something as small as a box of tampons, but he did love to get a rise out of you and did seem to enjoy the attention of any form he could get. 

So he liked to be playfully grumpy with you, knowing you thought it was more than a little cute.

You were just finishing up throwing your hair into a messy bun when you heard a soft knock on the door and turned around to see a very confused Dean, holding a DVD case in his hand. 

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the new Elf DVD that you had just purchased while on the supply run to watch later tonight after Dean went to bed. 

“Whatever it is, it's mine!” You snatched the DVD from his hand. 

A smirk settled deeply on his handsome features as he strutted his way through the door towards you. Your eyes took him in, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his  tightly fitted T-Shirt did very little to hide his well toned chest and shoulders. 

“Elf? Really Y/N/N, I took you to be more of a 50 Shades type of girl,” Dean said, flopping down on his stomach across your bed, his elbows bent with his smug face resting in his hands. He’d obviously found a way to get back at you for the little teasing back in the kitchen, and you just knew that he wasn't going to let you brush him off that easy.

There had always been an undeniable sexual tension between you two, but neither of you ever acknowledged it. No, you weren’t dating, you weren’t friends with benefits, you were literally just friends. But that didn’t stop you from enjoying the view of the curve of his ass as he laid strewn across your bed.

Maybe you were more of a 50 Shades girl, but he didn’t need to know that. You liked the friendship between the two of you. He was the greatest thing that ever happened to you. He was your best friend, your rock, the person you went to when you needed someone to lean on. You couldn’t fuck that up just because you had feelings for him, there was no way that was ever gonna happen. 

“Well Dean, we can’t be all kinky all the time, sometimes you need something a little vanilla,” you answered his question with a suggestive wink in order to keep up the banter that he’d started, but when you turned to look at him, your hair fell out.

Dean sat up cross legged in the middle of your bed when you huffed looking in the mirror, watching you as you started fixing your hair again with an unreadable look on his face. 

“Well, let’s watch it,” he said with a shrug. 

You turned on the spot and stared at Dean like he’d popped out a second head. 

“What?”

“Let’s watch it.” 

“You wanna watch Elf? You feeling okay, Dean?” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed at that, sticking his tongue out at you before jumping off of the bed and grabbing the DVD from your hands.

“ Dean Cave. Fifteen minutes.” He yelled over his shoulder, and you watched his retreating back as he made his way down the hall to start  the movie for the two of you.

Shaking your head you laughed as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a few beers before you walked back to the Dean Cave.

Dean was always full of surprises. Just when you thought you had him figured out, he did something you never would expect. Like agreeing to watch a Christmas movie with you, when you knew he hated Christmas. 

It wasn’t like it was a great mystery why that was. His father didn't exactly qualify for the parent of the year nomination, and Bobby, well he tried, but he wasn’t that into it either. Good family memories just weren’t something Dean had. 

When you stepped in the Dean Cave, Dean had pulled out one of the oversized blankets you kept in the laundry room for nights like this when you would all pile up in here and watch TV, and was waiting for you with the remote in his hand. 

“I brought beer,” you said, holding the two clinking bottles high above your head as you approached the couch. Dean grinned at you before flipping the covers open for you., offering you to sit down beside him.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Dean said with an impish smirk, his lips grabbing your attention that you wanted to feel on your own. 

You settled comfortably next to him as Dean hit play, throwing his arm around you and tucking you into his side before giving you a chaste kiss on the top of your forehead. It wasn't anything unusual for Dean, but it made your heart flutter in your chest all the same. 

You curled into his chest, laying your head against his shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around you with your legs on his lap. He felt warm and safe, and you honestly could have given everything you had to stay just like this forever. 

As the credits rolled on the movie, Dean reached over and flipped the TV off, leaving both of you in the dark room with the only light from the hallway peeking in through the cracked door. 

“I have to admit, for a Christmas movie, it wasn’t that bad.” Dean said, wrapping the blankets tighter around the two of you instead of getting up like you had expected him to. 

Dean’s large hand brushed a stray hair away from your face as he held you against him, his face so close to yours, you could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin. 

“See, maybe you should do what I suggest more often,” you fired back, trying to keep the conversation light and ignore his hand that was under the covers slowly creeping its way up your thigh as he laughed. 

“I don’t think so sweetheart. Tomorrow we’re watching Death Race, like it or not.”

Even in the darkness of the room Dean’s eyes seemed to sparkle just a little, and the army of butterflies in your stomach started to take flight against you.

You could have sworn he was moving closer to you although it seemed impossible as he held you closer to his large frame. 

“Dean, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you whispered as his lips came ever so close to your own that they were almost brushing.

He just chuckled in response, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t see the problem, I mean, people already think we’re a couple now.”

Before you could even register what he was saying, Dean’s lips captured yours in a sweet, slow kiss that made your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to leave you breathless as he pulled away from you. 

“I know I joke around a lot, but I can be as soft as you need me to be, if you’d give me the chance to show you.”

You could literally feel your heart pounding in your ears as his eyes scanned yours, fear of rejection lingering not far below the surface. 

You don’t know what made you react, you just did. In a spurt of bravery you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing into his as his arms wrap even tighter, pulling your body flush against his. 

You could feel his excitement growing by the prominent bulge that was forming in his sweatpants as his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging it just hard enough to pull a moan from your lips. 

“Let me show you baby, let me show you what you do to me,” Dean murmured, his hands tracing the skin of your back. 

You had wanted this to happen for so long, that it almost felt like a dream. But one thing was for sure, you weren’t going to push him away anymore. Dean was the kind of person that took things to heart, and if you rejected him, even if it was out of your own fear, you knew you would lose him forever. 

“Then show me, Dean.” You mutter against his lips. 

Not even for one second did Dean break eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head before finding your lips again with his own, dominating your mouth, his hands explored the now exposed skin. You didn’t miss the low growl that came from him when he discovered you’d decided to forgo wearing a bra. His hands slid over your exposed breath before running his thumb over each nipple. His tongue licked into your mouth in a way that made you shiver in his hold. The man was good, and he hadn't even gotten started yet.

His hands wandered to the waistband of your pants and pulled them down in one smooth go, leaving you fully exposed before him.

His eyes travelled shamelessly over your body, his white teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

“You're fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” Dean said, his voice deep and dripping with lust. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Winchester,” you purred. 

It took him mere seconds to strip out of his clothes. You noticed that he’d also chosen to go without  his underwear and you couldn't help the smirk forming on your lips. 

He was gorgeous. His well-toned body from a life of hunting and killing monsters hovered over your small frame on the couch you were laying on. His thick length was heavy and dripping against your already wet folds as his lips found your throat, running his teeth lightly over your collar bone before sucking his mark there. 

“I’ve wanted you like this for so fucking long, baby girl,” Dean said between kisses as he rutted on your folds. His blunt tip created just enough friction on your sensitive clit to drive you crazy and want more. 

“Then have me Winchester, what are you waiting for?” You asked him teasingly. 

Dean repositioned his hips, and with one smooth thrust he was fully seated inside of you without warning, his face hidden in the crook of your neck as he panted above you, holding himself still and giving you time to adjust. 

You had never been so full, so stretched as you were right now. It took you a moment before you were able to roll your hips against his, giving him the push he needed to start moving. At first he set a slow, steady pace. Each stroke of his cock against your already clenching walls driving you higher and higher until his tip hit that special spot deep inside of you at which you cried out. 

“Fuck, Dean,” you moaned, before his lips found yours in a deep kiss that was all tongue and teeth. 

You could already feel that familiar coil begin to wind tight in your abdomen with each thrust of his hips. 

Dean could tell you were getting close, and he picked up  a faster, deeper pace, hitting your g-spot directly everytime. 

“Come on baby, I can feel you're close. Let go,” he said breathlessly, his rhythm beginning to falter. 

It was like that was the command your body had been waiting for, and you came with a silent scream as your walls clamped down around him, and his hips locked in place as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, your walls milking every drop his body could give you. 

When you both came back down from your high Dean laid down next to you in the small space, pulling the covers over the two of you and snuggling into you.

You both stayed there in silence for a minute before you finally had the courage to speak. 

“Where does this leave us, Dean?” You asked him as his lips brushed over the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“It means your mine now, baby girl. Merry Christmas,” He said, his voice cocky and he was back to being the Dean you loved so much  

Turning around you swatted him playfully on his arm before settling back into his hold, nuzzling into his chest before letting out a content sigh of your own. 

“Best Christmas present ever,” you tell him before drifting off to sleep in the arms of the man you would always love with your whole heart, but now, he was yours and you, his.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @waywardsistershy​ @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy​ @rain-dance-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A New Kind Of Misery (Part 2)

Summary: After a night out, the reader wakes up the next day to discover her soulmate mark is now on her body. Except she has no idea who they are…

Pairing: soulmate!Dean x Actress!reader

Part 1

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 5,900ish

Warnings: language, brief nudity

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo​​

____

“Alright,” said Dean as you sipped on a beer on your couch, Dean pacing back and forth in the family room. You watched him go, smiling at him as you took him in. “I’m obviously not explaining this correctly or else you’d be freaking out.”

“Your mom was killed by a demon which led to your dad going on a vengeance trip in which you and your brother got dragged along. You were raised on the road and into this hunting life. Your dad died, the demon is dead but a whole lot of other stuff happened and you hunt monsters. I don’t think I left anything out,” you said. You held out the still full beer sat on the coffee table to him. “You got to try it. It’s from this brewery out near Napa and-”

“You are a little celebrity. I’ve been on the most wanted list. I’m legally dead and a criminal. You and me, we don’t mix.”

“Just because I act doesn’t give you a right to talk down to me,” you said. You got to your feet and he rolled his eyes. “I earned everything in this house. It wasn’t given to me. I did that.”

“My point being is that you live in an incredibly nice house and have money out your ass and your biggest worry is probably who sat next to who at some celebrity party or whatever. My problems? Life or death, every single day.”

“I thought I made it extremely clear,” you said, putting your drink down and getting in his face. You grabbed his arm and tugged down his jacket sleeve to reveal his matching mark. “We’re soulmates. I’m with you, you’re with me. There’s not getting out of it.”

“I’m not...listen,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders and guiding you to sit down. He went with you, giving you a forced smile. “So we’re soulmates. It does not mean we have to be together. You can stay here with your life and I can go back to mine. This never has to be an issue.”

“You’re something else,” you said, shrugging him off. You stood and left the room, heading upstairs to your room. You sat down on the floor and leaned back against the bed, reaching underneath for a shoebox. You pulled it out and opened the lid, taking out the small drawing you’d done years ago. It was a ring of fire, something you’d done in school when you learned about your marks. It was supposed to be an exercise on reflection and what you thought you mark would be. You remembered being scolded for drawing it but holding it up to your wrist, it was a near perfect match.

“What’s that,” he asked. You hadn’t heard him come in and shoved the drawing back in the box. “I remember doing that in school too. I drew the flames in a circle back then.”

“Why don’t you want me?” you asked quietly. He sighed and sat down on the other side of the box, tucking his knees up.

“Not a matter of what I want, sweetheart. It’s what’s right and what’s wrong. Getting you killed doesn’t seem very right to me,” he said. He flipped off the lid of the box, staring inside. “That a picture of you and your family?”

“Yeah. My parents and older brother,” you said.

“You’re cute,” he said, skimming through a few pictures. “These are important to you.”

“Our house had a fire when I was little. I took my bear and box out with me,” you said.

“Maybe it’s why we got flames. We both had fires growing up.”

“I don’t care what you do or how dangerous it is. It sounds like you’re really important actually. But no matter what you do, the most wrong thing you can do in the world is reject your soulmate.”

“You will die in my world. Even if I wanted to teach you, something will hurt you, take you, torture you, kill you, all before I even have a chance. You will be in pain and horrified and I might not be able to stop it. It’s not an if, it’s a when. And I can’t do your world. I just can’t. You live in the spotlight. I hide in the shadows. Coming here once was a risk I could justify but anything more and something might follow me and come after you. This conversation is all it can ever be,” he said.

“Be selfish and tell me what you want.”

He turned towards you and reached his hand up to your face, pulling you into a deep kiss. His jaw was a gentle kind of scratchy, his lips so damn soft and you could feel your wrist warm at your mark. He broke off and looked down, a deeper black making it up now.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck.”

“Cementing our bond? Tough shit. Now we need to-”

“You need to-” he said before you felt like you’d been hit in the gut. You gasped, a rush of who he was down in his soul hitting you. He grunted and grabbed your hand, riding through it himself. It felt wrong though, so much pain and trauma filling you up in your core. “Y/N. Y/N, breathe. It’ll be over in a second.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, taking another gasping breath. “You’re not feeling this bad ever again.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. It’s not-”

“We’ll make it work,” you said, his hands catching you as you started to fall. The dark pit in your stomach began to subside and you shut your eyes, putting your head between your knees. Dean picked you up and sat you on your bed, sitting close by as he ran a hand over your head. “What was that?”

“I may have left out the part where I was in Hell for 40 years,” he said. You jerked your head up and stared at him, water forming in your eyes. “Don’t cry about it.”

“I’m sorry I care about you. It’s not like we’re connected on every level or anything,” you said. You rested your head down again, Dean moving his arm over your shoulders.

“I spent 30 being tortured. Then I couldn’t take it anymore so I picked up a blade and tortured for a decade. I became the star pupil,” he said. You risked a glance over, Dean staring at the bedding.

“I don’t know how you lasted that long. I couldn’t...s’not your fault for doing that. You had to stop the pain,” you said. He pulled his arm away and rested his hands in his lap. “Dean. It’s alright.”

“That is the tip of the shitty iceberg. You have to stay away from me.”

“No,” you said with a smile. “I’m sorry but no.”

“Why?” he asked. “You don’t know me.”

“I don’t, but we kinda do. You would not have come here if you could really stay away. We’re connected. No matter our situations, it’ll work,” you said.

“God, you’re as stubborn as I am,” he said.

“Looks like it. Can we agree to try at the very least?” 

He was quiet, absently staring at his wrist. He ran his thumb over it and you caught sight of some light scars on his body. 

“Your life is scary but it doesn’t mean the scary stuff is going to make me run away. I’ll learn and so will you,” you said.

“I can’t date the lead actress in one of the biggest Netflix shows,” he said. “The second I’m in the public eye-”

“There are ways around the public eye, Dean. No one even knew I spent most of the past year dating someone,” you said.

“Really?”

“Really. I can sneak out of here very easily. We know we can’t walk away from each other.”

“I’m in charge though. I need to stay away, I stay away.”

“I’ll let you think you’re in charge if that makes you feel better,” you said with a smile. He grumbled and you moved over to his lap, his pretty green eyes watching you the whole time. “It’s not me, right?”

“What’s not you?” he asked softly.

“You being so hesitant. It’s because you want me to stay safe, right. It’s not because you don’t...you know...like me,” you said. Something in his face changed and there was a fluttering in your chest. He slid his hand up to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, hot breath fanning over your face when he moved away an inch.

“Don’t ever say something like that again,” he murmured. “I need you and that’s scaring the shit out of me.”

“I completely understand,” you said. “My brother told me it feels like you’ve known them forever and you just met them all at once.”

“Pretty good way of putting it,” he said. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t stay,” he said. He was looking over to the doorframe and you saw another man there. You jumped off of Dean but he held up a hand. “It’s just my little brother. That’s Sam.”

“Hey,” said Sam with a quick wave. “De. The nest. We gotta go before it starts to get dark.”

“Nest?” you asked as Dean stood up.

“Yeah. Vamp nest. It’s what brought us to LA in the first place. It get dangerous if we wait until night. I’ll be back later, okay?” said Dean. You nodded and watched as he headed out of the room.

“Be careful,” you said, catching them in the hall. He smiled and you returned it. “Wait a second. Can I come?”

“No,” he said, the smile wiped clean off his face. 

“We said we’d try though.”

“Y/N. Stay. I’ll be back later,” he said. 

“Alright. You guys can stay here tonight if you want,” you said.

“I’ll be back,” said Dean. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”

He took off down the stairs with his brother and you frowned, hearing the front door shut. You jogged down to your office and sat down behind your laptop. You grabbed a notebook from the drawer and a pen, turning over a new page before you were on the internet. For a beat you paused but then you were searching vampires and writing down anything and everything you could about them.

Four Hours Later

“Hey,” said Dean, knocking on your office door. You jumped, Dean smirking to himself. “You weren’t-”

“Oh my God,” you said as you stood up and saw him covered in blood. You were wide eyed but he laughed. “You need a hospital!”

“This is from the vamps. I have a few bruises I think but that’s all,” he said. You walked up to him and looked him over, Dean carefully keeping an eye on you. “Y/N? You gonna freak out on me?”

“No. You can clean up in my shower,” you said. “I can order takeout.”

“Alright,” he said, glancing over at your computer. He followed you upstairs and to your bedroom. You flipped on the light as you headed into the bathroom, Dean taking it all in. You found some big towels for him and set them down on the counter. He was staring in the mirror when he seen he’d been caught by you. “You have a gorgeous bathroom and I look like a brute.”

“It’s just a bathroom,” you said, showing him the shower. “Feel free to use my stuff to wash up. I’ll try to clean those clothes of yours up for you while you’re in here.”

“Bleach and elbow grease normally works,” he said as he started to take off his jacket. “You really don’t have to. This stuff is gross.”

“Blood in clothes doesn’t bother me,” you said. “I’ll uh, give you your privacy.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” said Dean. “It’s not like were not going to see each other naked at some point anyways.”

He undressed and left his wallet on the counter along with his phone and watch. He got down to a pair of black boxer briefs and you cocked your head.

“What?” he asked.

“You have a very cute butt,” you said. He smirked and shook his head. “What?”

“Should have seen your own ass in season 1,” he said.

“Take your shower, goofball,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Oh. How do you take your steak?”

“Medium? Why?” he asked.

“I’m getting us takeout, remember?” you said.

“We have very different definitions of takeout,” he said. “Don’t get me like some vegetable on the side please. Vegetables aren’t my thing.”

“French fries?”

“More than okay,” he said. You found your hooded robe from your closet and put it on the counter as well, hoping that it was oversized enough to at least get his top half covered up for dinner. You ducked outside and went to the laundry room to grab the empty basket, returning to the sound of the shower on and Dean’s bare backside greeting you. 

“Damn,” you said to yourself. He looked over his shoulder with a shy smile but he didn’t cover himself up. You felt heat in your cheeks and quickly gathered up his clothes and took them to the laundry. You called for some dinner before you set out trying to clean the clothes, quickly realizing this was going to be more difficult than you thought. You pursed your lips, quiet footsteps behind you.

“I can get that,” said Dean in a towel around his waist. His hair was damp and you spotted a few stray droplets he’d missed wiping off of his chest.

“It’s alright. Relax. You had a rough night,” you said. He smiled and stepped beside you, taking the bottle of stain remover from your hands. 

“You got some gloves?” he asked. You pointed up to the cabinet over the sink and he reached up to pull down two pairs of rubber ones. He slipped it on and bundled his clothes up in the sink before he grabbed a bucket on the floor and filled it up with some water and mixed in some bleach. He set the bucket in the sink and poured some on his clothes, humming as he started to roughly scrub the clothes between his gloves and you began to see red stain come out. When it looked good he would toss it in your washer and wash what he could down the sink. “Easy peasy.”

“Do you not have any other clothes?” you asked.

“I’m not much of a clothes guy,” he said. “I have my duffel in my car with some. I didn’t really think to grab it before Sammy went back to the motel.”

“A motel? He could have stayed here,” you said. He shrugged and took off his gloves.

“We’re simple,” he said. “Your uh, robe was a little short.”

“What size are you?” you asked, pulling out your phone.

“XL. Why?” you asked.

“One hour delivery,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes. Dinner’s going to take a bit anyways. Do you like salmon?”

“To eat?”

“No, the color,” you said, showing him a hoodie on your phone. He raised an eyebrow and you glanced in the washer. “Black?”

“Black is good. Really, Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I can’t hunt and I’m not great at washing up vampire blood apparently but I can do this for you,” you said. 

“Alright,” he said. You turned on the washer and you headed downstairs, getting Dean a blanket to wrap around himself while he took a seat on the couch. You gave him the remote and ordered a few things for him before going into your office and putting away your notebook. When you returned he was watching an old episode of Scooby doo and you smiled, taking a seat on the couch beside him. “Were you researching vampires while I was gone?”

“A bit,” you said.

“I have a journal I can send you. It’s got the actual information you need in there,” he said. “On anything and everything.”

“Cool,” you said. “I’m guessing the garlic thing isn’t real.”

“No, no. The sun irritates them but it’s not like they can’t go out in it. I had a buddy who was one, wore sunglasses and a coat out and he was pretty good,” said Dean. You went wide eyed and he smiled. “Not all monsters are bad just like not all people are good. It’s a gray world. I have a good friend that’s a werewolf.”

“Your life is so weird.”

“My best friend is an angel. My other friend is the Queen of Hell,” he said. “Oh and I help raise the son of Lucifer.”

“I can’t believe you’re not besties with God too,” you laughed. He rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“Chuck’s a dick but he’s dead at least,” said Dean.

“Did you just say God is dead?” 

“Like I said, it’s a gray world.”

“Right.”

You slumped back into the couch and shut your eyes. 

“When you said your life is dangerous…”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a lot of weird stuff.”

“How do you get through it? Who takes care of you?”

“Me and my brother just push through it. It’s what we’ve always done,” he said.

“It seems like an incredibly hard life.”

“It has it’s moments. Your life can’t be easy either.”

“I make a TV show,” you said. You crossed your arms and absently watched the cartoon. Dean moved beside you and you felt his arm slid around your waist. “I don’t even watch horror movies because I get scared. Your life is a horror movie.”

“Yet you’re still here,” he said. “Not only that, but you’re trying. Let me try and do the same.”

“I make a TV show,” you said again.

“You’re telling me there’s no pressure involved with that?”

“No. There’s an incredible amount of pressure. It’s not life and death though.”

“Yeah but you doing a really good job, that gives a ton of other people jobs. It puts food on their tables, pays for the roof over their head. You sacrifice your privacy, your time. Your job is harder than you make it seem.”

“If it wasn’t me in the job, it’d be some other actress,” you said.

“Trust me, people watch for you,” he said. 

“Do you...watch the show?”

“Yeah. We always binge the new season when it comes out. It’s good,” he said. 

“Thanks,” you said, something tickling at the back of your mind. You took out your phone and checked your messages, groaning when you saw the one’s from Patrick. “I completely forgot I’m supposed to go to a party tonight. It’s for Danny, my co-lead. He’s like my brother. I…”

“Go,” said Dean with a smile. “It’s okay.”

“You could come if you wanted? After dinner,” you said. Dean made a face and you smiled. “It’s private, I promise. Danny’s a quiet guy.”

“Okay,” said Dean.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m sure people are going to notice your mark appeared anyways. I don’t think introducing me to some trusted friends is a problem,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “I’ll let him know we’ll be a little late.”

“My black hoodie is dressy enough?” he asked.

“It’s a backyard party with beer and a bonfire. You’ll fit right in.”

“That steak was so good,” said Dean, rubbing his stomach as you got out of your car at Danny’s house.

“Good. You deserved it after going all Buffy today,” you said.

“Was that a tease, princess?” he smirked.

“I think it was, Buffy,” you laughed. You grabbed his hand, led him around to the back gate and walked around the house to the patio. There were less than ten people there and you knew all of them, Danny turning his head and catching you. “Hey birthday boy!”

“About time! Seriously though, you just met your soulmate today. You didn’t have to come, Y/N,” he said, giving you a hug. “I’m Danny.”

“Dean,” he said, shaking Danny’s hand. They shared a strange look with one another before they broke off. 

“Winchester?” asked Danny quietly. He nodded and Dean smiled. “Haven’t seen you in...fourteen years?”

“I’m 32 so that’s about right,” said Dean. “How’s the family?”

“Good. We laugh about it now,” said Danny. “Tell your dad thanks again when you get a chance.”

“He died a few years back.”

“That’s too bad,” he said before he looked at you. 

“Keep her safe,” said Danny.

“I plan on it,” said Dean. 

“Well there’s drinks in the fridge or you’re welcome to the liquor cabinet. Y/N can show you,” he said. 

“How do you-” you said as Danny shook his head.

“Some stuff, you just don’t talk about, Y/N,” he said. “We’ll keep him under wraps tonight.”

“Thanks, Danny,” you said. You guided Dean inside and set Danny’s present down on his kitchen table, heading over to the counter where he’d set out some alcohol. “So. How do you know him?”

“Ghoul case in his town when I was about eighteen. He was a few years younger if I remember. Him and his brother Joe got into a bit of a mess. We got them out of it,” he said.

“How many people have you saved?” you asked.

“What?”

“How many have you saved?” you asked as you started to make yourself a whiskey sour.

“I don’t really keep track of that sort of thing. I think more about the ones I couldn’t save to be honest.”

“I’m going to guess you’ve saved more than you lost,” you said. “Cut yourself a break.”

“Self-hate is kinda my thing,” he said with a chuckle.

“We’ll see about that,” you said, grabbing another glass. “You want one?”

“Sure,” he said. “You know, just cause we’re soulmates and we’re trying doesn’t mean you’re gonna fix me.”

“I’m not trying to fix you. I just...wish you saw what I did.”

“You barely know me.”

“True. But my soul knows your soul very well. Let’s call it a gut feeling,” you said. He hummed and you made another drink for him, Dean carrying it out to the backyard. You introduced him to a few more people and found a pair of seats by the fire. He relaxed more the longer you were there but you knew he was nervous. After a few hours you said your goodbyes and headed home with him, Dean easing up once you were back at the house.

“It’s getting kind of late,” he said. 

“Do you want to head to bed?” you asked.

“I think...I’m going to grab my stuff and head back to the motel. Sam and I have a long drive in the morning,” he said. You stared at him and he rubbed the back of his neck. “This’ll never work. I can’t...I can’t pretend. I could barely pretend in front of eight people tonight. We don’t live in a bubble. I’m sorry, Y/N. This isn’t going to work,” he said. 

“Then leave,” you said. You went upstairs to the laundry room and took his things out of the dryer, carrying them down and shoving them in his arms. “Never come back.”

“Y/N. If you weren’t-”

“But I am, Dean. I’m in the public eye and you hide from it. Fine. Go hunt and I’ll stay here and we’ll both be miserable. I was never asking you to give up what you do, you know. It scares me but I was willing to try. You lasted two hours at a party with my friends who think you fix cars for a living. It’s obvious you wanted a way out. You’ve wanted out since you came here. So just go and stay away.”

He looked down and went outside, waiting on your front steps for about twenty minutes before you heard a car pick him up. 

You wiped off your face and went up to bed, crawling under the covers and wishing you’d never met him in the first place.

Three Months Later

“Back off!” you shouted at the guy dragging you down a hall in a sketchy warehouse. You kicked your leg back and hit him hard but he didn’t budge an inch. He dragged you over to a chair and tied you to it before pulling out a sharp looking knife. “I have money. You can-”

“I’m a demon, sweetie. I need to talk to your boy toy,” he said.

“I haven’t spoken to him in months. I barely know the guy,” you said.

“Hm, not what your internet search history says. You suddenly into the supernatural now?”

“Why is a demon checking my browser history?” you asked.

“Honey, the second word got out that Dean Winchester’s soulmate was out there, every demon with a bone to pick with him went looking for you. I just so happened to get lucky and possess a guy in your manager’s office.”

“Lovely,” you mumbled, swallowing when he pointed the blade at you. “Maybe we can negotiate a deal before you use that.”

“My deal will be with Dean, not you. He’ll be dead and so will you so I wouldn’t-”

“Cory my dear,” said a female voice behind him in the darkness. He glanced over his shoulder and shot straight up.

“Rowena! How nice to-”

“Cory. What did I tell you about the Winchesters?” she asked.

“They’re hunters. There’s no such thing as off limits hunters,” he said.

“Go,” she said, snapping her fingers. You stared as she stepped into view and she gave you a smile. “Hi dearie. Don’t worry about him. He’s off in purgatory.”

“Dean said you guys were friends, right,” you said.

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “Would you like to go see him?”

“Not-” you said, suddenly in the middle of a large room. You spun around, books everywhere, tables here and there and Dean eating cold pizza out of the box at one of them. 

“Y/N?” he said, getting up and looking to Rowena. “What happened?”

“Troublesome demon took her. She’s fine and he’s dealt with. It was nice meeting you. I’d stick around but you two look like you need to have a conversation,” she said. She disappeared and you blinked, Dean walking over to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling your hand away when he reached for yours. “Just drive me home.”

“We’re in Kansas.”

“...Well, drive me to a rental car place and I’ll drive home myself,” you said. “How do I get out of here?”

You tried to go past but he caught your arms, sliding his hand down to your mark. You glared at him and he sighed, running his thumb over the skin there.

“This changes absolutely nothing you realize. Stay out of my life,” you said. You tugged on your arm and he let you go. “Where’s the exit?”

“Just...give me a second,” he said. He went over to a cabinet by the wall and opened a bottom drawer, pulling out a folder. He set it down on a table and opened it up, an ID and other documents in there. “I need to be anonymous. It has to be just us. No friends. No family. It’s too dangerous. But we can go places and be alone. You can come-”

“Anywhere I go there is a chance I am recognized and a chance someone takes a picture and it ends up on the internet. People are already dying to know who you are. This only works if you give up what you do or I give up what I do and that’s not fair to either one of us.”

“Then from now on in public, I’m Dean Campbell. It’s what I go by around here. I’m just a quiet Kansas boy who works on cars for a living who will try to stay out of the limelight and the other part of the time, I’ll go do my job,” he said.

“Just like that, you’ve changed your mind.”

“Not just like that. It takes time to forge a new identity. People will ask questions. Now they have answers,” he said. “This stuff is out there if anyone wants to go digging. It took time to get it in place.”

“How long?”

“About three months. We have to do it ourselves and to make it credible, it takes time.”

“So what was your next move?”

“Get out to LA. Stand at your door. Hope you could understand.”

“A demon kidnapped me today.”

“I don’t guarantee that doesn’t happen again,” he said. “All I can offer is my crappy soul.”

“It’s not crappy,” you said, taking a seat. “Dean, you walking away like that hurt. A lot. Even for good reasons, it hurt. I’m not ready to try and date you.”

“I get it,” he said. 

“Friends?”

“I’m okay with that,” he said. “I know I’m pushing but would you want to stay the night?”

“Sure. Just as friends though.”

“Just friends, I promise.”

Two Months Later

“Did you see that!” you said, Dean shaking his head as you jogged back over to Baby. “I shot a ghost!”

“That’s real good, sweetheart,” said Dean as he kept trying to light a match. You spotted the ghost behind him again and shot, Dean nearly jumping down into the grave. 

“Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” he said before he tossed the match in. He took a deep breath and walked back over to you, giving you a once over. “Not bad for a princess.”

“I’m supposed to be getting ready to go to a network party right now,” you said.

“Yeah but hunting’s more fun,” he said, wiping a bit of dirt off your cheek. “Get scared at all?”

“Oh definitely! But I think I got that adrenaline high thing right now,” you said, Dean chuckling as he took the shotgun from you.

“Just a smidge,” he said. “I got a surprise for you.”

“What?”

You blinked and found yourself back home in LA with Dean, Rowena giving you a wave before she disappeared from view.

“Want to go to your party?” he asked.

“Why are you here though?” you asked.

“Because after a hunt, you go out and celebrate.”

“What about Sam? And the car?”

“Baby’s fine with Sammy. Come on. I bet I look good in a tux,” he said.

“Dean,” you said, smiling at him. “Want to stay home instead?”

“Yes,” he said and you let out a big laugh. “The party is fine too. Just...home is better. Actually a diner would be amazing.”

“I know a place,” you said. “Let’s go take a ride.”

“You have the best pie,” said Dean to the waitress about an hour later. She laughed and you munched on a french fry, Dean already wolfing down his last bite.

“Can we get another piece of the cherry for him and I’ll take a slice of that chocolate looking one,” you said.

“No problem,” she said. After a moment she returned with the food, Dean diving into his pie again.

“I knew you liked pie. This must be really good,” you said.

“I place it at number four. Above Sally’s in Bismark but just below 511 outside Phoenix,” he said. “This is high quality pie we’ve got here.”

“Part of the after hunt tradition?” you asked.

“On the good hunts, yeah,” he said.

“What we did tonight, that was super easy, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah. But you start small. I wouldn’t mind keeping you away from the big hunts permanently,” he said. 

“Going soft on me there, Winchester?” you asked.

“Maybe,” he said. He leaned over the table and gave you a kiss. He smiled when he moved back to his seat and took a bite of his pie with a hum.

“You kissed me. In public.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” he said, smirking to himself.

“I hadn’t realized we shifted into dating,” you said.

“Y/N. If you never wanted me to be anything more than a friend, I’d live with it. I deserve it for how I acted before. But-”

“No, you don’t,” you said, standing up and sliding into the booth beside him. “I want us to be together because we want to, not because you felt like you owed me.”

“What about the rules of being soulmates?” he asked. 

“Screw the rules,” you said. He smiled and slid his plate of pie in front of you. 

“Well I don’t share top ten pie with just anybody,” he said. “Maybe next week I can go to your premiere party.”

“You don’t have to,” you said.

“I know. I want to.”

“Okay,” you said. He took your hand under the table and returned to eating, absently brushing his thumb over your mark. “Dean?”

“Mhm?” he said.

“Don’t call your soul crappy again. It’s beat up but not crappy.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s you. I need someone to believe what I have a hard time doing myself.”

“We’ll get there,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Now how about that pie, Winchester.”

_________

[bumbleberrysky]

alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 02

pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.7k rating: sfw warnings: same as before, wounded gabriel & removal of those stitches notes: the fire under my ass burns as strong as ever, hallelujah

You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It’s something you’re destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you’d thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you’re suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you’d been brought here in the first place? Maybe…

Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.

prev. || next

Much to your regret, your plans the next morning to continue being a nuisance to Dean are thrown in the bin at his decision to leave early and meet Castiel somewhere a state over for a case that the angel had found. Something about vamps in a mine or something, you’re a bit hazy on the details. You’d only half-listened when Sam filled you in upon your arrival in the kitchen, a good hour after Dean had already departed the bunker.

While you would like to say Dean is completely to blame, the truth is that once you passed out last night you slept like a log and didn’t wake up until mid-morning today, which classifies as a sleep-in of sorts for you. You love sleep, but your body is wired to wake up not long after sunrise, unfortunately. It’s that hunter lifestyle you love to hate.

Sam had huffed a laugh at your face when you found out you’d missed Dean, but otherwise had kept to himself with his healthy breakfast as you went about making yourself a coffee. You tend to be a bit nauseous in the mornings, so a coffee will be enough for you for a few hours. It’s likely your stomach won’t roar in hunger until a bit after midday, as it is wont to do.

“How is your arm?”

Sam’s question breaks you out of the dissociative state you’d slipped into as you sip your coffee, grip on the mug tightening in reflex. It takes a few blinks before your eyes focus back on him, a small smile on your lips.

“Much better, thank you doctor,” you answer, before mumbling into your coffee as you take another sip. “Despite apparent attempts at making it otherwise…”

Sam snorts, not even bothering to comment on that. “I’m glad. Did you have anything planned for the day?”

A contemplative hum escapes you, your gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, not really. I kind of went hard for a while there, one case after the other, so I’m due for a break. Not much of a fan of burnout.”

Your eyes move back down, meeting his own. “I’m probably going to just hang back, for a bit. Recuperate. I mean, I didn’t get any injury besides my arm, but I’m just… tired, I suppose. Didn’t get much sleep the past few weeks.”

“Of course you didn’t hurt anything but your arm,” Sam rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his smoothie—you’re not a fan of the green tinge it has, but if he likes it then you suppose it must be alright, at least. “You and your stupid good luck. Dean is still mad about last time, you know. When he got splattered in monster guts that just missed you by a centimetre.”

The memory yanks a giggle out of you before you can stop it, almost spilling your coffee as a result of the abrupt movement. “Oh, that was good. I wish I had a picture so I could scrapbook it.”

Sam laughs around a mouthful of food, swallowing it down before he continues. “Dean would kill you.”

“I know, but it would be worth it.” You place your cup down, deciding it a better course of action than continuing to hold it and risking spillage. “Also, I know you think my luck is really good all the time, but it’s kind of just good occasionally. All other times, it sucks.”

“It kicks in when you hunt, though, so I suppose that’s all that matters,” Sam muses, flicking through an article on his phone somewhat distractedly. He hums to himself before turning the screen off and angling his body to you properly, meeting your questioning gaze.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help,” he says, appearing somewhat sheepish. “With Gabriel.”

You try not to let your sharp intake of breath show, but from the look that flickers through Sam’s eyes you figure he catches it anyway. Your teeth worry your bottom lip for a moment before you can muster a proper response. “Alright. What are you thinking of doing?”

Sam adjusts once more, pushing his plate away, cutlery stacked on top; it’s only now that you realise he’s finished the meal and the only thing left to consume is his smoothie.

“Well, I’m not… entirely sure yet.”

You huff a laugh, attempting to regain a sense of normalcy. It isn’t that you’d forgotten about the battered archangel hiding in a room a few doors down from yours, but it’s moreso that you’d made it a point not to think about it so early in the morning, lest your mood be ruined for the entire day. Thinking of Gabriel… it kind of hurt. You’re not sure you’re ready to sit down and analyse exactly why you’re having such visceral reactions yet.

“I don’t think we can really plan much, here,” he says, features softening with empathy. It reminds you that when it comes to Hell and being tortured, the youngest Winchester isn’t as unfamiliar as you might hope. A pang of something hits against the confines of your chest at his tone and the passing look in his eyes; as always, there’s the useless feeling, the wish you could take away all the bad memories and experiences and make it all better. You know you can’t, nothing can, but you hate seeing your friends in any modicum of pain.

You suppose that includes Gabriel, if the sensations whirling within you at the thought of him are anything to go by.

“We’ll just have to take it as it comes,” you say, taking your mug into your hold and downing the rest of the drink in one go. “Alright! I’m gonna shower and then… I guess we go see him.”

x   x

 Unlike the Gabriel you were once so familiar with, this Gabriel is decidedly not fond of visitors.

Sam had gone and prepared some things while you’d showered and dressed, and by the time you reappear outside your room you hear shuffling from the direction of the library. Curious, you make your way down the hall, peeking your head in and blinking in only minor surprise at the sight of Sam, his shoulders heavy.

“What’s up, Sam-o-saurus?”

Sam looks up and gives you the closest approximation to a bitch face that you’ve ever received from him, clearly not fond of the new nickname that came to you on the spot like a divine enlightenment. He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, though, which is probably for the best considering your mission for the day. It would do none of you any good if he went near Gabriel while all riled up.

“Gabriel is, uh,” he clears his throat, placing down a sterile steel tray in the shape of a bean and small surgical scissors, along with a scalpel. Your gaze strays to the side and sees that it was the first aid box he’d been ransacking as you arrived. “Not very open to visitation from me right now. I think I might be a bit… bit big. He doesn’t really even see me when he looks at me, so I don’t think he realises who I am.”

You wince, trying not to dwell on the information longer than needed to file it away for later consideration. “Oh. Sorry, Sam. You want me to go see if I can bring him out?”

“Please,” the tall man says, gesturing to the tools on the glossy oak table. “I figured we could start by getting rid of those stitches over his mouth, if nothing else. I don’t think he has enough grace right now to stop infection so we should try and reduce the risk.”

His words sadden you, but you know the truth they hold. Your limbs feel a bit heavy as you push away from the doorway.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel’s allocated room isn’t all that far from the library, and the note on the door sticks out like a sore thumb so you don’t have to worry much about getting lost on the way (ignoring that at this point you know most parts of the bunker like the back of your hand). Once outside his room, something gives you pause though.

Are you ready to see him in that state again? Or is it that a small, tiny part of you fears he won’t recognise you, either?

Ridiculous of you, really. You take a moment to admonish yourself for the thought. If you take a second to factor in the difference in time spent in hell, even without considering all the time he was missing, Gabriel had to have been trapped and tortured for over a century at the very least. Centuries and years might mean nothing to a celestial being who has been alive for millennia, but over a century of fear and torture is a lot even for someone with such impressive mileage.

You shake your head, attempting to clear your thoughts and emotions so you don’t enter his room with an overwhelming aura. Okay, showtime.

A soft knock echoes as your knuckles meet the wood, a moment passing before you speak, attempting to keep your voice as soft and nonthreatening as possible.

“Gabriel? It’s y/n, I’m going to come in now.”

You allow another moment to pass before you ease the door open, blinking in surprise as your eyes are greeted by light—it seems the archangel has every bulb in the vicinity burning its brightest. Understandable, since you presume he wasn’t exactly kept in well-lit conditions.

For a second, you think he’s not in the room. You don’t see him anywhere, and you’re about a split-second away from turning and calling Sam when you catch a glimpse of something shifting in the corner, behind the bulky side of a wooden dresser. You think for a second that you’ve forgotten how to breathe, chest painfully tight, as you realise that the small form huddled and curled in the corner is, in fact, the archangel Gabriel.

You hate that you’d noticed him only because of the filthy scraps of material that stick out against the dark décor of the bunker.

“Hey, Gabriel,” you say softly, keeping the door open so he has a route of escape and moving over as slowly and cautiously as you can. “I’m just gonna come over and sit in front of you, alright?”

You figure that even if he’s not entirely listening to everything you’re saying, it’s better to announce what you’re doing before you do it, for his benefit.

Something painful ricochets off the inside of your chest as you grow close enough to see him around the dresser and you’re confronted with his beaten, bloody and battered figure once more. His gaze is anywhere but you, and the way he presses himself into the corner is like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. It takes all of your willpower to squash down the unexpected sob that catches low in your throat. What is wrong with you?! You need to get a grip.

“Oh, Gabriel,” you find yourself saying before you can stop. “I’m so sorry…”

The closer you get to him, the lower you try to make yourself in his peripheral. It wouldn’t do any good to startle him by appearing big and threatening. It makes you frown when you remember just who it is that you have to think this way about. It’s sad, you think. The Gabriel you’d known was prideful, glaringly bright and loud in his presence, both as a trickster and an angel, and that he’d been reduced to… well, to this? It made your chest feel heavy.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, you ease down onto your knees in front of him, doing your best not to rush anything. It’s hard—you’re a hunter, used to moving with speed and a sense of urgency. So to take your time and really be in the moment for each of your actions is definitely an odd change from the usual autopilot your brain resides in.

He doesn’t acknowledge your presence once you’re still in front of him, not really. You had expected as much though, and as much as he seems unresponsive you do see the occasional flick of his eyes in your direction before they dart away, like he couldn’t believe he’d dared to look at someone instead of the floor.

For a few minutes, you simply let him adjust to your presence, your company. Ever so slowly, you see the tiniest bits of tension ease from his shoulders, his eyes no longer darting around like a frantic squirrel. You take the opportunity to take in the wounds and sores littering his body, doing your best not to get too upset by what you see. Dirt and grime coats him in layers, and you mentally note that your next goal with him would be to get him in a damn bath.

It can’t be comfortable, sitting in all that grime…

“For the sake of transparency,” you begin when he seems like he will be open enough to listening. “I’ll tell you why I’m here. This is your space right now, and I don’t want to intrude on it unless I really need to.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, but you sense you have his attention. “Given that right now you’re low on… strength, and not healing as you usually do, we need to take care of some of the worse wounds you have. If we don’t, it’s a risk of infection, and we don’t know how well you would fight that off in this state…”

You clear your throat, attempting to keep yourself on track. “So, if you’re able, we’d really like you to come out just for a moment, so we can fix up some of your sores. I promise that you can come right back in here afterwards, and that unless we have something really important we’ll leave you alone. Sound good?”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t really move, but the way his eyes move to yours and hold your gaze for a bare second longer than you expect, you gather he’s not entirely against it. You offer him a smile, oddly proud of him. You’d seen firsthand how hard it can be to get out of these mindsets, even just for a moment. Effort is hard and that he’s making it means everything.

“Perfect,” you say, shifting in your spot so you can stand more easily. “Alright, I can help you up, if you’d like, or you can stand on your own if you want. What do y—”

Your hands had already begun to outstretch as you spoke, and you’re taken by surprise when before you even finish speaking his hand is whipping up to grab your wrist in a sort of monkey grip. You’re left blinking as you help him up, moving on autopilot. You expect him to release you as soon as he’s standing, but it adds to your surprise as he wobbles in place and retains his grip, if anything shuffling a little closer.

“Okay,” you say, angling your body and adjusting your grip so that it’s loose and as nonthreatening as possible. “Let’s go. Thank you for cooperating.”

Of course, there’s no response and he’s silent the whole way to the library. You remember that Sam is in there only as you approach the threshold, but unlike what you feared, Gabriel doesn’t seem to react too poorly to him like he apparently had earlier. Risking a glance his way reveals that actually, amongst the frayed and almost manic energy, he seems oddly… grounded, just for the moment.

Well, this is certainly going better than you’d anticipated.

x

“I went to bully Dean this morning, but he woke up before me and left before I could get to him.”

You’re in the process of cleaning the wounds around Gabriel’s mouth and removing the ugly stitches that have been sewn into his lips. As something to distract him as much as you from what you’re doing, you’ve begun chatting idly to the archangel, unbothered by the lack of response. Sam sits a metre or so away, researching for Dean who had apparently called earlier when you were coercing Gabriel out of his room.

Still Gabriel doesn’t hold your gaze, eyes averted as he leans forward in the chair for you to reach his mouth, but you can tell from the way his eyes occasionally flick to you as you speak that he is listening, somewhat. It’s enough of a win that you’re willing to take it.

He winces each time your alcohol swab goes over the entry point of a stitch, but doesn’t flinch away too badly. You’re pretty proud of him for that, actually, because it must hurt like a bitch.

“You got him yesterday, though,” Sam pipes in from the side, amused as he recalls your arrival. “Barely an hour after you got here and he was quitting and heading to bed.”

“It’s hard being so naturally talented,” you say, placing the swab down and reaching for the small scissors and tweezers. “I’m an absolute delight, and Dean should appreciate that!”

“Has anyone ever believed you when you told them that?” Sam asks, presumably referring to the ‘delight’ bit.

“Why wouldn’t they, Samuel?” you ask, giving the massive man a light spritz of stink-eye. “Do you have something to say to me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know,” he snorts in response, turning a page in the tome he currently has in his lap.

You bite your lip to hide your amused smile, turning back to Gabriel. You place your hand softly on his cheek to let him know that you’re about to go back in for the stitches, before raising the other tool and bringing it to the first of the thick threads woven through his flesh. Wincing, you try and snip it as delicately as possible. Now seems like a better time than any for more distractions.

“If you think I’m bad, you should be glad you never met my grandfather,” you inform the youngest Winchester, successfully severing the first stitch and beginning the icky job of pulling it out. Gabriel makes a muffled noise of pain but remains still, and you pat his hand softly in support. “He could stir the shit out of anyone, man. Like, I’m not even kidding. The bastard gene I got from him was actually watered down by the time it got to me, so count your lucky stars.”

Sam makes a noise of contemplation, like he really is taking the time to thank whatever powers that be— those apparently being Chuck, as you’ve heard— that you’re not more like your grandfather. Honestly, you’re not kidding—they really should be grateful. You loved your grandpa but you’d never met anyone so quick to stir whatever pot may present itself before them. An opportunist with bastardous tendencies, one might describe him.

In the silence that follows, you jump to another topic for the sake of distraction once more—you’re about to move onto another stitch.

“So, now that your mother is here, are you guys actually eating like normal human beings?” you ask, tongue pressed between your lips in concentration as you try to snip the thread as painlessly as possible by manoeuvring the small scissors. “Like, balanced meals with vegetables and shit?”

You hear Sam pause in the motion of turning a page, a scoff turning into a laugh as it climbs his throat. “What—homecooked meals? Our mom? Dude, she’s worse than Dean in the kitchen, and I really didn’t think that was possible.”

You pause your ministrations to face the tall man, squinting. “What? No way. No way is she worse than Dean—”

“We’ve had to replace the fire alarms twice already,” Sam says, meeting your gaze with a look that is full of both fondness and exasperation. He lets out a laugh at your flabbergasted face. “Dude, I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it for myself. You’ll see, whenever she gets back with Jack. She can’t cook but it doesn’t really stop her trying.”

“Another terrible chef joins the ranks,” you proclaim dramatically, pulling the stitch you were working on out and going in on the next one. “Oh, to be able to cook. I suppose this Jack kid is our last hope.”

“He’s not even a year old, y/n,” Sam says, deadpan. “I wouldn’t count on it. Also, you can cook, you’re just lazy.”

You shrug, making a face; he has you there. “I will neither confirm nor deny these allegations.”

Once more, you feel Sam roll his eyes behind you—he should get that checked if he’s rolling them so heavily you can feel it yourself. They’re not even eyes that are in your own skull, man.

You proceed to pull shit out of your ass as you take Gabriel’s mouth stitches out, the metal tin to the side soon filled with scraps of thick thread covered in dried blood and muck. The exit wounds where the thread had been have begun to well with blood, the wounds agitated by the removal of the stitches, and you bring a new cotton pad back with alcohol to clean them up. Gabriel hisses at the contact, and you rush out apologies under your breath as you finish up. You’d forgotten to warn him, and it’s only something small but you still feel bad.

“Alright, that’s done,” you announce, mostly to yourself. You look over him, deciding which wound to treat next, when your attention is drawn to the way he seems to be shaking a little on the spot. He’s not as grounded as he was earlier when he sat down with you, and even though you have much more work to do you can tell intrinsically that this is the most he can take right now. Dressing his other wounds would have to wait until tomorrow.

You turn to find Sam already giving the archangel a scrutinising look, apparently arriving at the same conclusion you had. He gives you a nod and you let out a soft breath, turning back to Gabriel and offering your hands should he need them.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Let’s get you back to the room.”

You can only hope tomorrow will offer the same amount of progress as today.

prev. || next

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Hunting Dogs (proxies x reader) Chapter Three

"Yes, mom. Yes, I know. I'm aware..." You repeated the same lines over and over in  a different way each time, hoping that would tell your mom "I fucking get it" but nope she went on until you nearly shouted, "Fuck! I'm gonna be late, call you later, love you bye!" you said in all one breath, pressing the end call button and tossed your phone onto your bed.

In reality, you had plenty of time; roughly 40ish mins until you had to clock in. The events that were held last night replayed in your mind as you brushed your teeth. You began to question if it was real or maybe it was the stress of life getting to you. But you didn't think you could crack that easily from pressure, especially with as dramatic has being a witness to a innocent old man getting killed or three masked men chasing you to your home.

"Damn cold weather." you groaned, noticing a small trail of blood leaving your nose and onto your pajama shirt. You leaned forward, grabbing some toilet paper and try to stop the bleeding while searching through your closet for appropriate clothing for work. The only uniform you would have to wear was a name tag and apron.

Plugging your phone in for another few minutes as you had forgotten to charge it the night before. The current battery level was at 34%. You didn't know how long you were going to be at work and if you were gonna be granted a break or not so, it was best to charge it so you didn't die of boredom.

After a few minutes your bleeding nose cleared up and you threw away the red stained tissue into the trash, fixing your appearance in the mirror before grabbing your phone and tossing the cord away. You walk through the small hallway and downstairs to where you were able to leave your apartment. Opening the door, you peaked your head out of the room trying to see if there was anyone in the hallway.

You weren't paranoid, you just didn't really like your neighbors as they were really loud or there was a few that liked to get in your business, but it wasn't necessarily a bad type of nosy, it was more so that you were new and young in a bustling city with no family members to support you if needed.

You locked your door with your keys before stuffing them into your pocket, debating whether or not to keep them out somewhat so if something happened again it would be easier access, but there was also a chance of them falling out. Sighing, you just tucked them safely deeper into your pocket, walking down the long hallway.

Rain was drizzling down onto the sidewalks as you opened the iron gate and your shoes hit the damp concrete. You didn't know whether to be relieved or slightly bugged as a rainy day meant very slow business and you could catch up on other work, but slow day also meant having nothing to absolutely fucking do and- and that meant you were gonna be somewhat wet and cold as you walk to work and possibly from.

"Ah, the only reason why I give you business Mr. Baldwin- Y/N!" Mr. Saka gave you a frantic wave and you chuckle, giving him a slight wave. "Morning, Mr. Saka. If I didn't know any better I would say you have a crush on me." Mr. Saka howled in laughter. You weren't the type to say stuff like that to older men, but you and him had a different relationship where it was just strictly playful words and nothing else. He had no feelings for you and vice versa, you both enjoyed each other's personality and company. He wasn't a creep either, so there were no red flags either. Plus, you had to admit you were kind of scared of his wife, Catherine. Though, she was rarely joined with her husband the moment you see her you don't know how to form sentences or know if you're doing your job right. She was just a customer but she definitely gave off heavy vibes of taking charge and just seemed like that even if she was in a very good mood.

He open his mouth about to speak before the door made a jingle sound and a girl with auburn hair that looked messy, but like in a fashionable way? She quickly fixes her shirt, brushing off the nonexistent fuzz on her shirt and looks around before spotting you. "Oh! You must be Y/N! Mr. Baldwin said to talk to you when I first get here-" she grabs your hand, shaking it while remaining an intense stare into your eyes. She was smaller than you but a bit scared of how someone could have energy like this it in the morning. "Did he? Well, I don't think I caught your name. " you said, not recalling your boss mentioning her name the night previous. "It's Kristine, nice to meet you." she smiles brightly and you couldn't help but return a smile as well. Damn, she's contagious.

"Right, well, let's show you the basics around here and I'm sure Mr. Baldwin will give you a uniform and start training you. " You said and excuse yourself from the conversation you and Mr. Saka were having.

It took roughly twenty minutes showing where equipment were at the store, briefly explaining their use, where to clock in, areas around the restaurant where she would most likely be, introducing her to the other workers (which honestly she mostly did herself before you could open your mouth) where the schedule was located and explaining the cut off date for paydays and such as well as the best time to request a day off if needed. "I can take it from here, Y/N. " Mr. Baldwin said, smiling softly and you nod, walking away and breathing out a sigh of relief. It wasn't much of a chore, but you were afraid of leaving out information as that was your first time having someone go to you first and having to take on a role, plus she was very bubbly for like 8:15 a.m....without coffee or some stimulant.

Reaching the front of the store, you turned on the coffee makers and look over at Mr. Saka who was looking outside as it began to rain even harder. You sigh through your nose, grabbing a mug and pour coffee into it and grab three packets of sugar, handing it over to him. "On the house." you say and he smiles slightly, nodding in 'thanks' before tilting the cup to his mouth.

The morning process was pretty tedious and you never really liked it as you had quickly caught on when your boss first trained you. Not much was expected from you, not in a bad way, just mostly people came here for the food and no one really came in during the mornings unless for coffee or light breakfast. As of right now, there was only Mr. Saka.

Yep. Today was definitely going to be slow. You walk towards the booths and tables, pulling chairs down and cleaning the tables off a bit, hearing the door open again and three men came in, wiping their faces from water droplets. They didn't look familiar at all, but one of them seem to have notice you as the man with brown hair that was long enough to cover some of his view from you if he didn't flip his bangs away from his eyes nudges the guy next to him. You had to admit, he was sort of buff looking and had great sideburns. He looks up at the other man, glaring daggers until the third man with a stubble and very short brown hair took notice of you.

You didn't like the vibe you got from them, but you just shook it off as they were just new and you didn't know what to expect from them. You look down, avoiding their eyes before they went up to the bar, sitting down on the stools across from Mr. Saka. You stopped your progress with the tables and walk over to them. "Anything I can get for you this morning?" you ask politely, eyeing the coffee pots as they finally fill up to the white line.

"Two black coffees and-"

"Caramel frappe, extra whip cream-" The two older men look at the one who ordered the frappe with a annoyed look. "Yeah, sure, coming up." you say and went over, grabbing two of the smaller mugs for nonspecial coffee and poured the coffee into it, giving it to the two men before walking over and started making the caramel frappe. "You guys new here? I didn't recognize you." you started the conversation, hoping to confirm why you felt off with them but try your best to keep your cool.

One of them had cleared their throat before speaking, "Yeah, we moved in last night." You nod, adding the whip cream onto the coffee and caramel drizzle.  Mr Saka took his chance to speak, taking in the rain and then at the men, "I hope you didn't have to go far to get here considering the type of weather we're having today." he sighs and takes another sip of his coffee.

The man with sideburns answers him, "We live just around the corner." Your body grew goosebumps and you nearly let out a gasp, replaying the scene in your head from last night. Were they aware of what happened last night? But nonetheless, you had a feeling that a question like that shouldn't be the one you need to focus on.

Three men last night had chased you from around the corner,

three men came in and said they moved in last night and live around the corner!

You swallowed thickly, grabbing the cup and hand it over to the other man who took it almost instantly and started slurping the coffee. His eyes widen at the taste and he smiles. "This is pretty good." he says and you smile a bit more at the comment. "How convenient." Mr. Saka said to the side-burn man. You snorted at what you had named him and the four men look at you and you wave it off, "It's nothing, just thinking."

Mr. Saka chuckles, nodding his head and continues to talk to the other men. You went back to the tables and make sure everything looks good before hearing your name being called. "Y/N!" you groan, walking to the back room. "Yes, Mr. Baldwin?" you peek your head in, groaning as you had seen what he wanted from you. Piles upon piles of empty boxes needed to be taken out, luckily they were already broken down, but you didn't exactly want to get wet and cold from going outside.

But either, you walk over and mutter to yourself and took as many boxes you could with one hand, using the other to push open the back door immediately your hair blocks your few and is soaked. You ran to the dumpster, quickly throwing the boxes but something caught your attention.

You walk over to it, kneeling down and grab it, minding the needle at the end. It was the syringe from last night with a purple liquid dripping out, making you drop it. You hadn't touched whatever was inside, but the thought that you probably had touched the edge of the broken pieces made you think that that was bad enough. You swallow, staring down at it for a moment and noted your foot placement. You stood in the same spot a man had died last night.

Speaking of which; Where is the body? Did someone call 911 and they took care of it?  More disturbing thoughts came in roll as your way of thinking changed, Did stray dogs or cats start get a head-start? No, there was no way. Did...did the men come back after chasing you and hide his body? "Y/N I'm not paying you to just look down at the ground, C'mon. " your boss said and you sigh, walking away from the syringe and back instead. The apron had protected most of your clothes and just seems like your hair had been the victim of the rain as you got back inside. "I'll get the boxes later, Y/N you just go back to the front. " he says and you nod, not wanting to argue with him as you were still disturbed from what you found.  When you came back, the three men were gone but a small note was left.

"What's this?" you ask out loud and Mr. Saka shrugs with a smile on his face, "Maybe one of the gentlemen's number, aye? A social life wouldn't hurt." he says and you reach from the folded note, expecting what the old man said, but what you saw on it confused you until you caught on.

402

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