#jodi picked him up to just have a strong word

[blue-unifox]

Part 2/2!!

You can read part 1 here

And here it is folks, I wanted to imagine their first meeting and that's what came to mind :) They probably didn't even recognize each other at first

Bonus: Hedwyn being picked reminded me of when kittens are being picked up by their cat mamas so i also drew this:

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 6

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

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

Word Count: 4,800 Warnings: Angst, fluff, and some supernatural shenanigans.

Part 6: Trust Building

After you showered and dressed in a clean shirt and yoga pants, you felt refreshed but still somewhat anxious. You don’t have anything to be nervous about, you tried to remind yourself.

You finally met him. His name is Dean. He seems…nice.

A soft smile grew on your face when you thought of how he’d looked over your injuries in concern. How he’d seemed just as nervous as you, but was familiar in his teasing and gentle when he’d helped you up the stairs.

He seemed to be a decent guy. But so had Danny Schmitt.

That thought made you shudder. Those horrific memories of last night tried to surface, but you stubbornly shoved them down by covering your eyes with your hands and letting out a few deep breaths.

When you’d calmed down, you released your trembling hands. That’s it, you decided. You were going downstairs. You were going to go crazy if you stayed up here in this room.

…Plus, you were getting hungry.

Things were probably going to get awkward fast, but you were up for it. You didn’t want to be rude to your uncle, and you wanted to get know Dean and his brother Sam.

So you carefully descended the stairs, trying not to freeze in place when all three men paused in their conversation to look at you. You gave a little wave.

“How’re you feelin’?” Bobby asked.

“I’m okay.” You joined Sam and Dean on the couch once they made room for you. Bobby sat in a rickety chair across from them, with a coffee table full of old, open books in between. What kind of book club were these guys having?

You shared a small smile with Dean, who seemed to take a brief moment to look you over. You noticed his gaze lingered on your yoga pants. But smoothly his eyes returned to your face. He inhaled and looked curious.

“What’s that, apples?” he asked. You blinked in confusion, until you realized what he meant: your body wash. To be fair, it did have a strong smell.

“Oh, apple spice.” You nodded. “Good guess!”

Dean grinned a little. “It’s nice.”

Sitting on his other side, Sam rested an elbow on the couch’s arm. He hid a smile behind his hand, while Bobby just rolled his eyes.

“All right, well dinner’s on the way,” your uncle said. “Hope you like Chinese.”

You were just about to reply affirmatively when your phone buzzed on the coffee table. With a quick glance, you saw who it was and frowned. Dad.

“That’s been going off non-stop for the past ten minutes,” Dean said.

“Yeah,” you sighed, and went to pick up the phone. “Hi, Dad.”

You felt guilty about taking off from Jody’s house without telling anyone, but in fairness, you’d left her a note. Your dad was stern and quick to reproach you.

“You can’t just take off like that. You had me looking over the whole damn town for you!” said Jack.

Your lips pressed together. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going, but now you know where I am. I’m safe.”

Jack started to interject, but you cut in before he could start giving you orders.

“Tell Jody I’m sorry, but I’m comfortable here,” you said, glancing up at Bobby, and then at Sam and Dean.

“…Fine. The house should be back to normal in a couple of days. If you leave Bobby’s house for any reason, you call me,” Jack said.

Like you were a child.

“Fine,” you snapped and hung up the phone. Then you looked up at the men, who all looked away as if they hadn’t been listening.

“Sorry,” you added. “My dad’s a bit…overprotective.”

“I mean…can you really blame him right now?” Dean asked. “I get it, you ditched your babysitter. But not for nothing, I’d probably react the same way.”

His face was more serious, devoid of the flirtatious teasing from before. Your hackles started to rise as he took your dad’s side…until you realized that he meant well. Through the connection that bonded your soul with his, what you felt most was his concern for you. 

And, he might actually have a point.

You just weren’t willing to acknowledge that just yet.

You tried to get to know Sam more too. You learned that he’d gone to college at Stanford for pre-law, and that he’d planned to be a lawyer. When you asked why he didn’t go for it, he and Dean got quiet.

That’s when the takeout finally came. You sensed it was a sensitive topic, so you didn’t push it.

The four of you ate while Sam and Dean traded off telling childhood stories and motel room antics, most of which made you laugh.

But you became sad when you realized what Dean had told you once was true: he and Sam had been raised on the open road. They hadn’t truly had a home since Dean was five years old, and Sam had been just an infant, after their mother died.

“The house burned down,” Dean explained, but you had a feeling there was more to the story. You sensed it in his guarded emotions—both in his body language and through your bond.

“Nice ring,” he remarked, noting the flash of silver on your right hand. You gave him a closer look and he took the opportunity to take your hand. You tried (and failed) not to blush.

“My mom’s,” you said, your eyes lowering. “She…died when I was around fourteen.”

Dean sighed and released your hand. “I’m sorry.”

You knew he understood how you felt. He’d lost his mom too.

“What about your dad?” you asked.

Sam and Dean shared a brief glance before Dean replied. “He’s still around. He started the family business, so he travels a lot too.”

“I see.” You were very curious to meet their dad. If he was anything like Dean, then that man was sure to be interesting.

After a while more of eating and talking, Bobby wished you goodnight and went up to his room. Sam returned to the living room to set up his sleeping spot on the recliner, leaving you and Dean to clear the dining table and wash the dishes together.

“So your dad’s a cop, huh?” Dean asked.

You nodded. “Yep. Hence the overprotective bit.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell him about our…” Here Dean raised his brows. “Situation?”

You smiled in amusement. “Honestly, yeah. It just…didn’t feel like the right time to tell him about us. When you meet him, you’ll understand.”

“I get it. My dad’s not always a picnic either, but he’s a good man,” Dean said. “Your dad seems to be too.”

“Except he doesn’t want me here,” you said. “He’s got this…thing with my uncle. I can’t figure it out.”

Dean seemed to remember something. “Yeah, Bobby was sayin’ something like that. They had a falling out a while back?”

“I think it started when my aunt died,” you admitted. You were seven, and Aunt Karen had been your dad’s younger sister. You didn’t remember her that well, but you had a warm memory of her making pies for every season: pumpkin and apple for fall, blueberry for winter, strawberry and rhubarb for spring, and peach for summer.

“I’ve asked Bobby about it, but he’s not really the sharing type,” you said.

“Yeah, fair enough,” Dean said. It made you look over at him with some curiosity.

Dean was becoming something of an enigma to you. In some ways, he could be incredibly straightforward and kind in how he looked after you and asked about your life. But any time you asked about his family, about his past, about his job, he would pull back from you.

It made you nervous. What the hell is he hiding?

But it also made you determined to find out more. Now that you’d found him, you weren’t going to let him go so easily.

After the table was cleared and the dishes were done, you realized just how tired you were. Even your head was starting to ache.

Dean might’ve heard your thoughts (you had to get better at controlling that), because he looked you over in an assessing way.

“Hey, you should probably get some sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day, sweetheart.”

Even that small nickname made you blush again. Dean noticed, smiling. You purposefully looked away and called out to his brother.

“Goodnight, Sam.”

He looked up from the book he was reading and smiled at you. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

You returned his smile before returning your gaze to Dean. He crossed his arms expectantly, a grin playing at his lips. “My turn?”

You uttered a laugh. Gaining some courage, you leaned up on your toes, rested a hand on his shoulder, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Sweet dreams, you added mentally, then you turned to climb up the stairs.

See you tomorrow, he replied. It made you pause on the stairs and turn back to him with a soft smile.

Then, Dean watched you go up the rest of the way to make sure you were all right. He did his best to clamp down on his mixed emotions, so you wouldn’t sense them. When he turned around, he found Sam wearing a knowing grin.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I just never thought I’d see you like this.”

Dean rolled his eyes and sat on the other end of the couch. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, then rubbed at his face with both hands. Sam sat down next to him and dropped a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m glad, Dean. You deserve this,” he said.

Do I? Dean thought. “You know we’ve got a job to do.”

“…Yeah,” Sam said with a sigh. He was conflicted too. He wanted to give his brother the time and space to enjoy this, to spend time with you, but they still had to find their dad—and the Yellow-Eyed demon that killed Jess, and their mom.

Still, this was important.

“Why don’t you go up and talk to her?” he suggested, nodding up the stairs.

Dean frowned. “She’s going to bed.”

“Even if it’s five minutes,” Sam said. “Don’t waste any more time, Dean. Do something.”

So Dean went up to your room, and he knocked.

You opened the door a few moments later, but you hadn’t changed clothes yet. Sensing more than hearing his anxious thoughts had kept you puttering around the room, straightening things up, brushing your hair, trying to find something to wear for bed. You just didn’t know how to reach out and comfort him, or even if you should.

But you smiled when you saw him.

“Can I help you, sir?” you teased.

“Just for a minute,” he said, once you let him into the room. “You can kick me out whenever.”

You beckoned him to sit with you on the edge of your bed. You and Dean sat in silence for a moment, both of you trying to think of something to say.

“This is hard, isn’t it?” you said. Dean let out a breathy chuckle, his shoulders sagging a bit in relief. He looked over at you.

“Somehow, thought it’d be easier,” he said.

“Okay, let’s just get this out of the way. We’re basically strangers. Let’s stop focusing on the cosmic bond part of it all, and just try to get to know each other,” you suggested. 

Dean saw the logic there.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. He reached out and tucked your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing the side of your face.

A blush dusted your cheeks. “You like doing that.”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“Not really, no,” you admitted with a smile. Dean returned it, before his expression became more serious again.

“Hey, can you answer something honest for me real quick?” he asked.

“Okay.” Though you wondered where this was going.

“Are you okay?”

You folded your hands in your lap and stared down. “Yeah. I feel fine, Dean. Really.”

“Not what I meant,” he said. You felt his concern through your bond, encouraging you to look up at him.

“I get it if you don’t, but if you need to talk about what happened last night…” He let the thought hang off, giving you the space to decline if you wanted to, or if you weren’t ready. You sensed that he was willing to listen to you, and actually, that he genuinely wanted to know.

Well, that you could believe. He seemed to be the protective type.

You sighed; as much as you didn’t want to think about what happened, flashes of those memories were already resurfacing behind your eyes.

“It happened so fast,” you began. People always said that in the movies, but it was true.

“I got home late. I was…talking with you. As soon as I set my things down in the living room, he grabbed me from behind, dragged me into the kitchen for some reason…” You took a breath. “When I had enough wits about me to start fighting back, that’s when he used my head for basketball practice on the counter.”

Dean was quiet while you spoke. He was trying to keep his darker thoughts from spilling into his connection with you, but that was a feat in itself.

It was a good thing for him that Danny Schmitt was already dead.

“I saw the kitchen knives, but before I knew it I was on the ground,” you continued, though it was difficult to steep yourself in those wild, thrashing moments. Being pinned down, not being able to call for help or reach anything that could help you.

Your hand went to the bruises on your throat. “I couldn’t breathe…then I’m…not sure what happened. Maybe I got some adrenaline-fueled, Hulk Hogan-type strength, because the next thing I knew, I was looking down at Danny’s body. And the kn-knife, somehow I…”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you started to lose your grip, but Dean reached for your hand, squeezing yours. That, and sensing his supportive presence in your mind, gave you something solid to ground you as you breathed through it.

As was your habit, you twirled your mom’s ring around your finger.

“Danny?” Dean asked.

“Y-Yeah. We went to high school together,” you explained. “He was an idiot then. He got his fingers caught in the automatic stapler. How do you go from that to psycho-killer spree?”

Dean gave you an amused look, but he gave you an honest answer.

“Some people are born bad. Some people do bad things once in a while, and regret it,” he said. “Some people got evil shit on their mind, but don’t got the confidence to actually pull the trigger. Until they do.”

You let out a deep breath as you nodded.

“I just…Dean, I don’t remember grabbing the knife,” you confessed. “But it makes me wonder…what the hell else am I capable of?”

Dean could understand that, better than most. He let you lean into him and drew you close as you finally allowed yourself to let go. You felt bad for dampening his shirt with your tears, but you relished in his comfort and the safety of his arms.

Until both of you shivered. It felt like the room had dropped ten degrees all of a sudden.

Dean got an awfully familiar, suspicious feeling.

“Aw, shit,” he said.

“What?” you asked nervously. Your bedside lamp flickered, and somehow a draft kicked up into the room.

Dean got you to stand up by the elbows and grabbed your hand, heading for the door. It swung closed in your faces, making you gasp.

“Shit,” he repeated.

Your looked up at him in fear. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Whatever happens, just stay close to me.” Dean’s voice was firm, authoritative. It was fair to say you clung to his arm. Maybe that made you the quintessential damsel in distress, but to be fair, you were definitely in distress right about now. You didn’t have a clue what was happening, but Dean seemed to.

Then a strong gust of wind pulled him away from you and threw him into the large wooden dresser across the room. You watched in alarm, but you eventually made yourself move to go and help him.

That’s when a strange mirage glitched and appeared in front of you, startling you. It was a woman, maybe in her late-thirties. She looked familiar, but before you could focus on her face, Dean’s fist swiped through the mirage and made it disappear.

You looked up at him in shock. He was a bit banged up with a couple of scratches on his arm, but he held what looked like the iron handle from one of the dresser drawers he’d smashed into. You touched his arm, and your mind blazed with questions that you were finally able to express.

“Are you okay? What the hell was that? What—”

“All right, for right now just follow my lead, okay?” he said. He grabbed your hand and tried opening the door. It was locked. Damn it.

Sam called from the other side.

“Hey, you guys okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’ve got us a ghost,” said Dean.

“What?” you exclaimed. As in Casper?

Dean sighed. “I’ll explain later. Move away from the door, Sammy.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

In one powerful move, Dean kicked through the door and broke the lock. You and Dean escaped the room, but your eyes widened as you pointed behind Sam. “Watch out!”

The woman was there again. Now you could see that she wore a white blouse with small flowers on them, and a long, dark skirt that seemed to glide across the floor. You realized that you recognized the shade of her hair, the shape of her face and features—many of them were similar to your own.

You felt like the air had fled from your lungs, all while your heart constricted painfully. Dean’s head swiveled toward you; he’d picked up on the shift in your emotions through your connection.

“Mom?” you uttered.

A gun shot rang out, making the vision of your mother scream angrily, and then disappear. Behind her was Bobby with a shotgun full of rock salt.

“All right, let’s get downstairs,” he said.

The four of you ran down quick to the ground floor. The lights continued to flicker as you went, and a draft followed you through the living room where the fireplace crackled with life. You watched as Sam went and got cannisters of salt from the kitchen and started drawing a large circle of salt around you all. Meanwhile, Dean grabbed the iron poker from the fireplace.

“Okay, will someone please explain what the fuck is going on already?” you asked. “Why am I seeing my mom?”

And why is she trying to kill us?

Sam and Dean shared a look before the latter sighed and met your wide-eyed stare.

“Like I said, she’s a ghost. Yeah, they’re real. Salt keeps them away, iron fends them off,” he explained. “Temporary fixes though. The only way to get rid of a ghost is to burn its old body’s bones.”

That was a lot of crazy information to absorb in all of thirty seconds. Dean laid his hands on your shoulders to get your attention, and to ground you.

“Where is she buried?” he asked.

“The cemetery,” you said tremulously. “Don’t say you’re gonna dig up my mom, Dean.”

His face twisted in apology. “That’s kinda where this is going, yeah.”

You were a tad bit horrified.

“But wait, you can’t,” you realized. “They buried her ashes.”

Sam, Dean, and Bobby all shared a similar frown. Damn it.

The ghost of your mother, Christine, reappeared just a few feet away and startled a scream out of you. The four of you stood within the salt circle, but that didn’t stop her. Her dark eyes were focused on the men as she created a gust of wind to blow the salt circle away.

Bobby shot off a salt round from his gun and made her disappear for a few seconds. But she was getting tenacious. She reappeared moments later to continue whittling at the salt line.

“Why is she coming after us?” you exclaimed.

“Some spirits don’t pass onto greener pastures if they feel like they’ve got too much to leave behind,” Bobby explained. “After a while, they start to lose their grip on…well, reality.”

“They turn vengeful,” Sam supplied. “Poltergeists, hauntings—”

“But why would she go after me?” you asked. You buried your hands in your hair and closed your eyes. Maybe you could block all of this out and pretend it wasn’t happening. “This can’t be real!”

“Hey,” Dean said. He grabbed your arms just tight enough to break you out of your spiral. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “This is real. It’s happening. Somehow your mom’s ghost is tethered to something else, because I think she followed you here.”

“Followed me?”

“From your house,” Dean said. He was leading you somewhere—with his tone and his eyes.

You gasped at as hit you.

The impossible knife stabbing of Danny Schmitt.

You hadn’t been anywhere near the kitchen knives. You’d been pinned down while slowly choking to death. It hadn’t been adrenaline. There really was no way you could’ve reached them.

“She…she killed Danny.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Trust me, I know, because this is my job.”

“This is what you do for a living?” You were damn near hysterics.

He offered you a helpless grin. “And it don’t even come with health insurance.”

“He’s right, there’s something else keeping her here,” Bobby said. He looked at you. “Do you have anything of hers?”

“No, I—” You’d started toying with your ring before it dawned on you with a gasp. Dean looked down at your hand and came to the same conclusion.

“It’s the ring,” he said. “We need to burn it n—”

Dean couldn’t finish his thought, because Christine reappeared behind him and threw him several feet away. The iron poker in his hand clattered away from him. She turned to Sam and Bobby next.

Before either one could shoot off a salt round, Christine raised a hand, commanding a desk to shove them against a large bookcase. They had to shield their heads as books fell off the shelves and thudded to the ground.

Christine stopped when she turned to you. Instead of attacking, she raised her hand out to you. Your eyes widened.

“Mom?”

She didn’t answer, but she didn’t look at you with the same anger and menace as she had to the men.

“She’s not after you,” Sam said, with a tilt of his head. “She’s trying to protect you.”

He was still stuck with Bobby, while Dean was also pinned against the wall by the force of Christine’s will. He had enough autonomy to raise his head and meet your eyes with urgency.

“Toss the ring in the fireplace,” he told you. “Do it now!”

Your limbs were frozen in place. It was almost like being attacked by Danny; you could see the knives, but you couldn’t make yourself grab one. This time, you didn’t want to.

“I can’t!” You shook your head adamantly.

“I get it,” Dean said. He was struggling to break free of the ghost’s hold, gritting his teeth. “But you need to put your mom to rest. It’s the ring or your life. Throw that thing into Mount Doom!”

You looked up at Christine, and at times you could see through her spirit-like body. She wasn’t really there, nor was she supposed to be here.

Right now you were poor old Mrs. Jenkins, clutching your pearls.

So you ran to the fireplace. But the moment you fell to your knees there, a strong gust of wind blew out the flames. You gasped and turned to see that your mother was there, and she was now angry with you for trying to destroy her.

Frantically you searched for something to keep her away. What you found was Dean’s iron poker.

“That’s it, stick it right through her!” Dean guided you. Inside he was desperate to help you, but he instinctively buried it under the practiced focus of a hunter.

Your hands closed around the iron and you swung it like a baseball bat, making Christine’s spirit dissolve. Sam then called your name and showed you a lighter in his hand. He threw it towards you, but it bounced through your hands and scattered across the floor.

“For God’s sake,” you muttered frantically. You all but dove onto your hands and knees to scramble after the lighter.

“Watch out!” Dean shouted.

With a gasp, you twisted to face Christine again. This time, she commanded a chef’s knife from the kitchen.

“Mom!” you tried. While she heard you, she didn’t acknowledge what she was doing. Her face was twisted with a truly evil expression—one that you’d never seen on your mother when she lived.

The knife turned in mid-air. Then it spiraled toward you.

You instinctively covered your face with your arms and shouted. “Stop, Mom. Please!”

The room was deadly quiet.

Slowly, you realized you were still alive, if breathing heavily. You opened your eyes and lowered your arms a bit. The knife hadn’t pierced you, but it was still hovering in front your face. You remained very still when you looked up at Christine.

Her face revealed her shock. The evil dregs of death had melted away, revealing your mother as she was. As she had been in your fourteen-year-old memory.

Her expression softened into regret and sadness. The knife fell away from you and clattered to the ground. You let out a relieved breath and laid a hand over your wild beating heart.

Then it was Sam, Dean, and Bobby’s turn to feel relieved. Christine released them from her hold, and Sam and Bobby pushed the desk away from them while Dean rolled the kinks out of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” said Christine. Her voice was familiar, and also sounded overlaid with many whispered voices. Tears pooled in your eyes, but your hand closed over the lighter you found at your side.

You toyed with your ring and glanced at Dean. He gave you an encouraging nod.

“Do it, honey,” your mom said.

Shakily, you got to your feet and went back over to the fireplace. You used the lighter to reignite the wood, but once you took the ring off your finger, you hesitated.

A hand rested on your shoulder, and your tearful eyes met Dean’s sympathetic ones.

It’s okay. You can do this, he told you through the soul bond.

With a deep, shuddering breath, you nodded and let go of your mother’s wedding ring. It took a while, but eventually the silver started to melt.

Your mom’s spirit dissipated with a smile on her face.

The aftermath of that night was difficult, to say the least. The guest bedroom you were supposed to sleep in had a broken door, but the guys had helped you get it back on its hinges, more or less. You all agreed to leave cleaning up the house for tomorrow, as there were only a few hours left in the night anyway.

The way you felt…well, there weren’t really words for that. You laid in bed in a worn-out, oversized shirt you found in the damaged dresser. Your body was exhausted in every way. Your mind, however, was wide awake.

So was Dean’s. He stared up at the wall from his place on the couch, downstairs. Through the bond, he could feel the many shifts in your fraught emotions. It was keeping him awake too, mostly out of concern.

He tried to take hold of that thread of energy and send you something reassuring, even if it was just his presence and not his words. Because what could he say, anyway?

He sensed that you accepted the connection. He felt your gratefulness, despite the rest of it.

Do you want to come up here? you asked.

It surprised Dean, but his reaction was…conflicted. After tonight, part of him wanted to keep some distance between you and himself. His job attracted even more supernatural batshit insanity than a vengeful spirit. He didn’t want you to get caught up in that…

But a larger part of Dean couldn’t deny you, either.

I’ll be right there, he said.

Without waking up Sam on the recliner, Dean got off the couch and climbed up the stairs towards your room.

AN: Congrats to @spnexploration for figuring out the impossible stabbing of Danny Schmitt! You guessed it right on your first try. But I hope the clues I left were subtle enough lol.

Now that the reader knows about the supernatural, let's see what she and Dean get up to upstairs...

To keep reading: PART 7

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A huge thank you to everyone commenting and reblogging and overall engaging with this story! I didn't think it would end up being this long lol. But there's more to come soon!

If you like this, follow me for more SPN fics (and other fandoms). I'm also on Ao3!

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[eating-plastic]

Leaving Morals Behind: Kent x fem!reader SMUT

Warnings: NSFW, smut (MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI), age gap (older man-younger woman. Reader is ALWAYS +18), AFAB!reader, p in v sex, rough sex, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, choking (the good kind 😏) , the ol' cheatin' with the babysitter trope, dom!Kent, sub!reader, degrading, infidelity (duh), swearing, slow burn, mentions of PTSD, reader tries so hard to be a good person lol, there are some feeling in this, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 7724 Words

A/N: Okay, I know, infidelity is wrong, cheating is wrong, I wouldn't cheat on my partner, and I'd hope to God he wouldn't cheat on me, my mama always said married men are off limits...but y'all are lying if you said you wouldn't become a homewrecking whore for this man. I'd happily be this man's fucktoy if Jodi ain't givin' it up lol. Please leave all morals at the "read more" line, you will be able to pick them back up at the end of the fic. Keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times, and away we go!

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You always thought you were a good person, or at least you always tried to be. You liked to be liked, giving and getting respect and rewards. Always wanting to be friends with a strong moral compass you never strayed from. So when you had inherited your grandfather's old farm and had to move to Stardew Valley, you were none the wiser that it was going to be a test of your good nature.

A test you were going to fail at.

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Stardew Valley was beautiful, at least you thought so. Sure it wasn't as big and bustling as the city you were used to, but you didn't mind. No, the only problem you had was money.

The farm was a fixer upper, that was for sure. You knew you would have to get some seeds and maybe some animals to make money, but all you were concerned with was making the home look like a home.

And food. You needed food.

Whelp, looks like it was job hunting time for you.

Unfortunately you didn't even know where to start.

"Wow, so mom was right," the sound of a male voice causes you to turn. Behind you was a man about your age with blonde hair. "Someone did move into the old man's place."

Of course, that's where you would start. Being nice as you always were.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Uh, this was apparently my grandpa's farm," you hold your hand out for him to shake. He takes it, but looks at you weird.

"You didn't know?"

"Uh, well no. I wasn't very close with him. I think I only knew him when I was a toddler," you truly didn't remember, then again your family was never close with their own. "So, you gotta name?"

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm Sam."

Well, so far so good.

"Well, Sam, you wouldn't happen to know if anyone here has a help wanted sign or something. Kind of, uh...need to get this place fixed up."

He thinks for a moment.

"Eh, not sure. But hey, why don't I show you around? I'm sure you'll find something!"

With that, you followed Sam around, even getting to know him a bit more. You found him relatively likable, but you didn't really support his dislike for authority. Of course, you felt disappointment bubbling within you due to small towns typically meaning little opportunities. At the sight of your defeated face, Sam sighs.

"Look...there's someplace that is hiring, but it kinda sucks."

"Psh, I just need enough money for food and get the farm looking like, well, an actual farm."

"Yeah, it really does look like a shithole," at that, you punch his shoulder. "Ow! Okay, sorry. Look, I work at Jojamart, it's this big business that moved in recently, and they're always looking for workers. I don't like it, but if you can put up with it, then I'll take you there."

To make a long story short, you told Sam to lead you there.

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

You tried to get by on such a humble paycheck, but operation "fix up your new farm" was going slower than you'd like. On the bright side, at least your friendship with Sam was going well. You viewed him as the brother you never had, and he viewed you as the sister he never had. Not to mention he had introduced you to his friends Sebastian and Abigail, although the latter was more agreeable and welcoming to your kindness.

About a month or two of you living in Pelican Town had passed, Sam had asked if you wanted to go out drinking with him. He even added that it was his treat since you said you didn't want to spend your paycheck on anything that wasn't a necessity. He clearly had something he wanted to talk to you about and you alone, considering Sebastian and Abigail weren't present like usual.

"So...any reason you wanted to drag me out for a drink?" swirling your glass and watching the drink that moved within.

"First of all, you need it. You've been working for six months straight."

"I have not! And for your information, I can handle the responsibilities of a job. You can't even bear working for an hour." you quipped.

"Not true. I can't handle working two hours, thank you very much."

"Heh, okay okay," you prepared to take a sip of your drink. "So, what's the second thing?"

"How good are you with kids?"

You nearly choke on your drink and let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Wha-What kinda question is that?" your laugh makes Sam let out a nervous chuckle.

"Yeah, that does sound weird, huh?"

"You don't say."

He clears his throat, before explaining himself.

"Look, my mom's been stressed. Especially since my dad's been deployed. I gotta kid brother that she always worries about, and leave yours truly to babysit. Besides, you said you've been looking for a second job, anyways."

It's true. With the humble paycheck Joja was giving you, it was hard to get the farm fixed up, hence why you never went out drinking with Sam and his friends.

"It won't be much, but my mom really needs the break. Even if it's just for a day," the blonde looks at you pleadingly.

"Any little bit helps," you nod. "You sure your mom would be okay with a total stranger watching her kid?"

"Believe me, you're not a stranger to her. I've talked about so much that she thinks we're dating," he jokes.

"Ew!" you did a fake shudder at that, even making a goofy grossed out face.

"I know!" he lets out his own playful noise of disgust, before collecting himself. "So, uh, what do you say? Think you can put up with my little brother."

"Of course I can. I've babysat more kids than I can count before moving here. You have got yourself a deal, Samson." you held your hand out to shake on it.

Sam gave you an annoyed look that made you laugh. He hated being called by his full name, which you reveled in. Still, he shook your hand, sealing the deal.

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

You told Sam that you would show up at his place the following Saturday. Upon meeting his mother Jodi and his little brother Vincent, you liked them just as quickly as you liked him. Jodi did look as exhausted as her eldest son described, and was trying to turn you away from babysitting her youngest. Not because she didn't trust you, but because she felt she didn't have the money you deserved for taking time out of your day to watch the little boy that was eagerly asking you all sorts of questions.

You just told her what you told Sam, any little bit helped no matter how small. Besides, you were quickly taking a liking to Vincent. In fact, you would say that he was one of the cutest kids you'd ever babysat.

And so, after standing your ground, the woman caved, and asked her youngest son if he would like you to watch over him.

The answer was a resounding "yes".

So she left, leaving the two of you alone in the home.

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

"What are you doing?" Vincent asked, watching you tidy up the living room of the home.

"Just cleaning the room up a bit. Wanna help me? you had decided to indulge the child's love for insects, making sure he didn't get too dirty. At least, to the best of your abilities. He still needed to wash his hands afterwards. As such, you decided to assist Jodi even more by picking the house up a bit.

"I thought only mom cleaned?" he cocked his head to the side.

"Everyone cleans, kiddo. A nice home means a nice life," you moved to the kitchen to do some dishes.

"Is that true?" he asked.

"Mmhm, it is. Come on, you can help me dry dishes."

"But isn't that boring?" he still followed you into the kitchen despite his question.

"It doesn't have to be. How about I tell you a story while we work? Sound good?" you knelt down to be at eye level with the kid.

"Okay...but only if you let me have gummies afterwards."

"Whatever you say kiddo. Just don't tell your mother about the "gummy" part, kay?" you ruffled his hair and moved a chair closer to the sink for him to stand on.

He pulled himself onto the chair, and you began to tell a story you remembered from your childhood.

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

You were coming up on a year of living in Stardew Valley, and your farm didn't look like it's former self at all. Now, you had crops of your own, as well as a couple of hens. As such, you quit your job at Jojamart, now selling your wares, but you still babysat Vincent at least once a week.

You loved the kid just as you loved Sam: as another brother you never had. Jodi was still apologetic with the small amount of money she paid you, but you no longer cared. You weren't babysitting her younger son for money anymore, now you were doing it because you wanted to. Besides, you enjoyed helping the overworked woman out with cleaning up the house a bit.

As such, it allowed her to repay you by joining her family for dinner. It was nice eating with what you now would consider a surrogate family, now that you were so far away from your own. In fact, both Jodi and Vincent had finally stopped calling you and Sam a couple, which was nice.

Yes, your good nature and morals was certainly still shining through, and rewarding you in the end.

That was until he showed up.

You were eating some of Jodi's lentil soup for supper that night. While Vincent complained about it, you told him that if you could eat it, he could eat it. So he sucked it up.

Meanwhile, Sam was discussing a song he was writing with Sebastian asking for your ideas. The ideas you gave ranged from serious to jokey.

It was all going so well, until the front door opened.

You all turned your heads to look at who it was. Though you never met him, you knew just who you were looking at. Sam, Vincent, and Jodi all told you about Kent. You knew he was in the military, and how his family had worried about him. He was loved, and everyone's words made you want to meet him when he got back from his deployment.

Now though, you felt small as his eyes fell upon you. He was analyzing you, a stranger in his home, despite clearly being on good terms with his family.

You wanted to excuse yourself early, now no longer hungry as you were intruding on what should have been a nice moment of a family reuniting.

Of course, after Kent found out you were both Sam's best friend and Vincent's babysitter, he stopped staring daggers at you like you had just burnt his most valued possessions. He even offered you his hand to shake, which you noticed was rough and large compared to yours.

After being properly introduced to him, you voiced that you were going to leave, coming up with the excuse that your crops needed tending to.

As you walked home, you decide to stay away from Sam's place for a bit, wanting him and his family to have a proper reunion with the patriarch of the house.

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

It had been a few days since that dinner, and you were still following your decision. You still hung out with Sam, and Jodi and Vincent always said "hi" to you when you passed by them in town square, but you still didn't want to intrude.

So you spent these past days walking around Pelican Town, after tending to your crops and hens. You loved taking in the scenery and waving hello to any of the villagers that you'd greet. You also just love getting lost in your thoughts.

"Hey, uh, Y/N!"

You jump at the sound of a rough, male voice calling your name. You turn around and see Kent walking towards you. He doesn't seem as cold as he was when you first met him. As such, you got a better look at the older man now that you weren't frozen under his gaze.

He looked like an older, more handsome and rugged version of Sam. Also more muscular too, at least from what you could tell despite the clothes.

"H-Hi," you still can't help but be shy around him.

"Look...I'm sorry about our first meeting. I noticed you were kinda shaken up after it," he rubs the back of his neck, clearly feeling a bit guilty about it.

"It's okay. You didn't know me. You just wanted to eat and sleep I imagine, right?"

"Yeah," he nods and sighs. "Still, why don't we start over, clean slate."

He holds his large hand out for you to shake once more. You smile sheepishly, and take it.

"Clean slate," you agreed.

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

Clean slate was right. After that day, everything in your world went back to normal. You got to babysit Vincent again, and you felt welcomed to hang out and eat supper at Sam's place too.

However, you quickly noticed that things were a bit rocky in his world. He would talk about how he was happy to have his dad back, but noticed that he seemed so standoffish, Vincent would even complain that he didn't play with him anymore. Jodi never spoke on the matter, but you assumed that she understood the seriousness on the matter. You certainly did.

Before moving to Stardew Valley, you had a huge interest in psychology, taking classes in both high school and college. You even had plans of becoming a psychologist. Funny how those plans changed.

The point is, you had an idea what Kent was going through. Being a soldier certainly wasn't easy. You had no doubts in your mind that he had seen and done things most couldn't even bear.

Whenever you would walk around town, you'd notice that he would stand under trees a lot, all by himself and deep in thought. Sure, he'd smile and wave at you when you'd pass by, but you knew that there was a disturbance inside his head. You wondered if he wanted someone to talk to. Then again, you didn't want to be pushy. Besides, you were just a family friend that he was only starting to get to know. There was only one way to find out.

Asking him.

You timed your walk perfectly with Kent heading out to stand under the tree just North of his home. He was a bit suspicious, considering you would usually take your walk later, but maybe you just felt like taking it sooner.

"Afternoon, Y/N," he greeted and continued on his way.

"Hey, Kent," you chirped.

"You're taking your walk early."

"Yeah, I didn't have much to do today. Why sit inside waiting for the clock to strike when you can just do it now, right?"

"I guess," he tenses up a bit when he notices you aren't breaking away from him like usual. Maybe you were just in a friendly mood. "So, uh, how's the farm coming?"

"Oh, it's going great! You should've seen it before I cleaned it up. You wouldn't even recognize it.

"Maybe...this town hasn't changed much since I left."

His jaw is tight and he clearly is starting to get lost in thought. Now was your chance.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"I'm fine," he says quickly.

Alright, that didn't give you much to work with.

"Do you...do you want me to leave you alone?" you clearly aren't buying his words.

Kent sighs, deeply.

"Y/N, listen, don't you have something better to do than waste time following me around?"

Resistance, that was to be expected. Still, you would try one more time. If he continued to push you away, then that would be it. You would leave him alone.

"I know you're not fine, Kent. I can't imagine what you're going through, but I just want you to know that I'll listen to you if you need me to. But if you want me to leave you alone, then I will."

He stares at you intensely. He's both analyzing your words, and deciding if he wants to talk. You continue to look up at him, patience evident on your face. Eventually, he takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

"You like listening to other people's problems?"

"I like being there for people if they want me to, however they want me to. So, if you want me to leave, I will."

"Heh, a farmer, a babysitter, and a shrink. Is there anything else you can do that I don't know about?" he really doesn't want to give you a straightforward answer. Unfortunately for him, you were more stubborn than you let on. At your lack of backing down, he just looks away from you.

"It just doesn't feel right....Like I can't go back to normal no matter how hard I try. I'm happy to be home...but I hate that I can't just go back to who I was before...," he trails off.

Well that's shocking. You were really expecting him to tell you to "fuck off". Still, you'll take it.

"Have you tried talking to someone about this? Jodi?" you push a bit, seeing how responsive he'll be. Luckily, he replies to your question.

"No one here gets it, so why should I? Besides, Jodi just wants to pretend that everything is still great, so why should I ruin that? Hell, why am I even telling you this, anyways?" he runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident at the matter.

"Only you know the answer to that, Kent. I'm not gonna tell you what you should and shouldn't do, or how you should feel," you hesitantly hold your hand up to touch his arm." I'm just here if you want someone to just listen to you."

You're both silent now. Neither of you know what you want to say. Still, your hand is resting reassuringly on his arm, which he doesn't shove off. Finally, the older man sighs.

"Look, just...," he thinks about what he wants to say. "Just know that you don't have to waste your time listening to me, okay."

You give him a sympathetic smile.

"It's not wasting my time, if I'm just doing what I wanna do," you squeeze his arm gently before letting it go. "I just want to be there for you, Kent. Just like with Sam, and Jodi, and Vincent....And I'll do it however you all want me to."

He glances at you, before giving you a shadow of a smile.

"You're too nice of a person. You know that, Y/N?"

"So I've been told," you giggle.

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

'You were just being nice,' you thought. It seems like those five words had become your mantra ever since that day.

You were just being nice while you listened to Kent open up about whatever he felt comfortable with telling you.

You were just being nice when you would reassuringly touch his arm and speak so sweetly to him.

You were just being nice when you would give him gifts he loved, while the rest of his family would only get gifts that they liked.

And it was just a coincidence that you started wearing more dresses now, because he would always compliment you when you wore them.

Everything even got to the point where Kent would visit you at your farm to help move things that were too heavy for you, when you had complained about whatever you were having trouble with. You didn't want him to strain himself, but he insisted. He said it was because he was repaying you for always being there for his family.

So yes, you were just being nice when you would watch him move objects around, always wearing a white tank top that showed off his arms, or even forfeiting the shirt entirely.

You were just being nice, because you were just making sure he didn't pass out from heat stroke, hence why you gave him towels, ice cold lemonade, or even offered your shower to him.

This wasn't because you desired the older man. No, of course not. How could you? He was not only married with a family, but you were friends with his family. Sure he was attractive, and sure he cared about you, but you'd never pursue anything with him. You weren't a homewrecker.

You weren't. Even when your brain would betray you and make you dream about Kent in situations that ranged from wholesome, with him kissing you while standing under one of the many trees he stood under, to down right pornographic with him pinning you down to any surface and fucking your brains out. Nope, you couldn't be into him. Even when you would wake up from those dreams with butterflies in your stomach or damp panties.

No. You couldn't. After all, would you really be into him if a cold shower washed those thoughts away? Would you really be into him if you still hung out with him and his family? Of course not.

You were just being nice.

Well, that was until one wet dream you had one night.

'You were babysitting Vincent like always. You were helping him study for a science test he had that Friday. You supposed you could add tutor to that list of farmer, babysitter, and shrink.

Suddenly, both Jodi and Kent entered the home. The boy at your side got up from your spot on the floor and ran into his mother's arms. She said that he had a doctor's appointment, which was odd because you could've sworn Vincent's doctor's appointment had passed. Still, they both left, leaving you and the older man alone in the home.

He walked into the dinning room, and called for you to follow him. You did what you were told, only to have his hand wrapped around your throat. You could still breathe, but it didn't stop you from jumping.

Kent now had you pinned up against the dining room table, calling you a "dirty homewrecker" and a "filthy whore", and with his hand under the skirt of your dress.

The next thing you knew, you were bent over the table, your skirt flipped up and your panties ripped off, all while the older man behind you used your body like you were nothing but a sex doll.

Fuck, it felt amazing. You had never had your body used like that before, but you were already addicted to it. Especially as you felt your orgasm coming closer...and closer...and....'

You woke up, panties completely soaked and your pussy craving attention. It was at that moment in your lust filled mind that you thought one thing: fuck it.

No cold shower was gonna take care of this, and you decided that you were done lying to yourself. You were done with being nice all the time. You wanted Kent, and you didn't give a fuck about his wife and sons.

So, you slipped your hand down your body and underneath the waistband of your pajama shorts and panties.

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

Little did you know that Kent wasn't exactly having the most platonic thoughts about you, either. Though it did take him a bit longer than you for him to have his own "fuck it" moment.

You were so beautiful, attentive, sweet, almost innocent in his eyes. And as such, he also just assumed that all of the actions you had done for him, was just you being nice.

That's why he would go over to your farm to help you. He was just repaying your kindness. He was just being nice.

He didn't want you. No, how could he? He loved his wife, he had a family. And you? Innocent, sweet little you? You couldn't have wanted him. You were a good girl, not a homewrecker. No, he didn't desire you at all.

Even when his brain betrayed him by playing dreams of you as his little wife instead. Coming home to you, loving you, taking you out on dates. Nope, that longing feeling he felt after waking up from these dreams was something else.

After all, would he really be into you if a cold shower washed those thoughts away, or if he could still look you or his family in the eye. Of course not.

You were just being nice.

That was until he had his own wet dream about you.

'He was sitting in a field with you, which was odd considering how open fields make him uncomfortable, but you looking at him so lovingly seemed to make him forget that.

Something he noticed was that you were wearing a dress, as you seem to be wearing dresses a lot nowadays, except this one left little to the imagination. The skirt hardly covered your ass, and the top put your cleavage on full display. You, however, seemed completely unaware of your revealing outfit.

The next thing Kent knew, your dress was off, and apparently you weren't wearing a bra or panties underneath. He was also hovering above you, with his hand wrapped around your throat. Despite this, you were looking up at him, completely blissed out. As if this dream couldn't get any better, you let out the most adorable moans while he fucked you.

What started off with what could've been interpreted at "love making" quickly transformed into something more primal. And he loved it. Especially as his orgasm got closer...and closer...and....'

He woke up, except unlike you, he woke up in the middle of the night, with his wife peacefully sleeping beside him. He couldn't take a cold shower, and he couldn't go back to sleep now that he was almost painfully hard. There was only one thing he could do.

'Fuck it,' he thought, before getting up to head to the bathroom, after making sure everyone in the house was asleep.

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

Neither of you made a move. How could you? You didn't know if Kent desired you, and he didn't know if you desired him. Besides, there was the whole, oh, you know, married with a family issue. Still, that didn't stop you from wanting to be a bit subtle on the matter, now wearing dresses that had shorter skirts or emphasized your cleavage, and touching him a bit more.

Everything didn't come to a halt though, until you had asked him to come over whenever he could to help move something heavy. Apparently, that meant Kent coming over on what felt like the hottest day of the summer. As such, you decided to set up your sprinkler in case he needed to cool down while he worked. Oh yeah, and so you had an excuse to run around in your bathing suit in front of him.

When he saw you, he was taken aback by seeing more of you than he was used to, even looking away to focus on the task at hand. That clearly didn't last long, as you felt his eyes back on you while you bent over a bit to splash the cool water from the sprinkler onto your face.

"Alright, move over. I need to cool down more than you," the older man jests.

You look up at him and smirk, moving aside.

"Go ahead."

Kent stands and sighs, as droplets of water fall unto him. While he's distracted, you grab the sprinkler and hold it towards him, causing him to get hit in the face with a rush of water. You place it back down and laugh at his startled reaction. Unfortunately, this gave him enough time to replicate what you did to him.

"Eek! Kent, stop!" you squeal out, trying to shield your body from the sprinkler's cold blasts.

"Nope! Not until you say you're sorry," he playfully sneers.

"Ah! Okay! Okay, I'm sorry!" at that, he puts the sprinkler back onto the grass. "Truce?"

You hold out your hand, which he shakes.

"Truce."

"I'm sorry about making you come out here. Especially on the hottest day of the summer," you do feel a bit guilty about the whole thing, despite flaunting your body in your bathing suit.

"You know I don't mind. I'm always happy to help you out."

"I know...," you begin, deciding to make a move now. You make your way closer to Kent before giving him your best "bedroom eyes". "I just wish there was something I could do to repay you."

You drag your fingertips up his arm, which causes him to tense up. His eyes widen at your actions, and he backs up from you.

'Oh, shit.'

You quickly drop your hand to your side. Your face begins to heat up with embarrassment and shame. You try to get out an apology, but all that comes out are stuttered phrases.

"...I see," Kent grabs his jacket and walks out of your backyard. All you can do is just stand there, humiliated.

You raise your hands up to your face and take a deep breath, ashamed of yourself.

'Oh, Yoba, what have I done?"

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

After that event, you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror. What was wrong with you? How could you do that? You tried to seduce a married man. A man who you were close with, and had a family you were close with. And now he knew just what a horrible person you were. Hell, it felt like everyone in Pelican Town knew, despite them not treating you any differently. In fact, Jodi and Vincent still would greet you anytime they passed you, and Sam still would invite you out to drink with him and his friends. And every time, you had to put on a mask like you were still a good person, like you didn't try to destroy their family.

You also never saw Kent after that day, but you were purposely trying to ignore him. How could you face him? He seemed pretty pissed off at your actions, not wanting to associate with someone like you.

You were actually considering moving back home. What was once someplace you felt welcomed in, now felt suffocating. Everyone knew, they had to.

It was evening now, and you were doing everything you could to ignore your thoughts and how much of a miserable human being you were.

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from your task, and you almost feel like just letting the caller on the other end give up trying to reach you. Guilt pulls you to answer it though, because if you are going to try and feel less miserable about yourself, why ignore someone who may have needed you. So you answer, lifting the device up to your ear.

"H-Hello?"

"Y/N," the voice on the other end greets. You feel your blood run cold as you recognize who it is.

"Kent...wh-what can I do for you?" you swallow, nervously.

"Sorry that this seems short notice. I was gonna take Jodi out for drinks and Sam's off with his buddies somewhere. Do you mind watching Vincent for a bit?" he doesn't sound pissed off or tense, like you expected. That does melt your nerves a bit.

"Y-Yeah, sure. Um, I'll be over there in a bit."

"Good."

And just like that, the line goes dead. You take a deep breath. You were just going to watch Vincent, that was all. Maybe this was your road to redemption. Maybe your little stunt that hot day was going to become water under the bridge. So after composing yourself, you head on over to the home you had been avoiding.

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

It seems like the distance between your farm and Sam's place had gotten shorter during your trek. You actually just stare at his front door wondering if you should just turn around and head back. No, you had to try and reconstruct your shattered, good nature. Flaking on people who needed you was not going to help. So you knock on the door just as you used to.

Unfortunately, Kent greets you when the front door opens, though you didn't know if greeting Jodi would've been any better.

"Come in," he says, shortly.

You walk in and the older man closes the door behind you. You wait for Vincent to come greet you like he always does when you babysit, but you can't hear the sound of his footsteps getting rapidly closer, nor do you hear his voice. In fact, the whole house was quiet.

"Kent, where is everyone?" you ask, feeling nervous.

"Gone," he says, before walking into his kitchen.

"Wha-gone? What do you mean 'gone'?" you hesitantly follow him. He is leaning up against one of the counters, thinking.

"Jodi took the boys out for a little vacation. I stayed behind," he still doesn't look at you.

"I-I...why?" everything is beginning to feel weirdly dreamlike.

"Because we need to talk," his eyes finally fell on you. "And you haven't been giving me much of an opportunity."

"Sorry...," your voice is small, and you look down at your feet. As much as you don't want to face this talk, you know that getting it out of the way may make things better.

"'Sorry' is right. You pull that little stunt all those days ago, and then avoid me," wait what?

You look up and notice that Kent is much closer to you now. You freeze up a bit, but feel confused that he doesn't look angry with you.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he leans a bit closer to you. "Do you normally fool around with married men?"

The question takes you by surprise and your cheeks heat up.

"I-I...no," it's the only thing that comes to your mind, which now feels empty.

"Clearly," he holds your face so you are forced to look at him. "You have a bad habit of working me up, where people could see or hear us. Do you want everyone to know that we're fooling around, hm?"

You don't speak, still frozen and tense. Kent sighs, letting your face go and moving away from you.

"Of course...you don't want that anymore, do you?" he turns his back to you. "If you don't want to, then you're free to go."

"W-wait...y-you...?" you let out a frustrated sigh, trying to compose yourself and ask what you wanted to ask. "You mean...you weren't mad at me."

"Of course not. I was just surprised and needed to think," he glances over his shoulder." Now, answer my question, Y/N: do you want this or not?"

Well, here you were. A crossroad. You could either try to rebuild your moral compass, or you damage it permanently. And you know what? The fog in your brain and the dampness that was forming in your panties was going to keep you from walking out that door. This was going to end in two ways: just getting a taste of what you've been dreaming about so you could move on, or becoming addicted to it entirely.

Kent's back is still to you, and a smirk forms on your face. You begin to remove your clothes as quietly as you could. You regret not not wearing a dress as it would've made this so much easier, but your guilty mind had sworn to not wear them anymore. Funny how that was going to change.

"You know what?" you drawl, waiting for the older man to turn back and look at you. He does, and a smirk forms on his own face as his eyes fall upon you, now only clothed in your bra and panties. "I don't think I'd mind fooling around a bit."

"Clearly," he makes his way back towards you, but this time he wraps one of his hands around your throat, squeezing it lightly. "Heh...and here I thought you were a good girl. Looks like I was wrong though, huh?"

You shamelessly whine at the feeling of him mildly choking you, reminding you of one of your many impure dreams about the older man.

"Yeah, you aren't a good girl at all," Kent's other hand wanders to your back, pulling you closer to him and undoing your bra. "You're just a filthy whore, right?"

You bite your lip, a nice quip for his comment forming in your mind.

"I'm your filthy whore," you correct, which causes the older man to chuckle darkly.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, which causes you to nod. "We'll see about that."

He suddenly lifts you up, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You are carried to his bedroom. As if the situation couldn't get any more taboo, he was now going to fuck you on the same bed he shared with his wife.

Kent closes the door behind him out of habit. Not that he had to worry about anyone bursting into the room. In fact, he was surprised how natural he was with this considering he and Jodi have hardly fucked since he got back.

There was no time to think about that though. Especially as you sat down on the edge of his bed in only your panties now, your eyes full of curiosity at what he was going to do to you.

"The fuck you think you're doing," he growls, which both startles and turns you on. "You think I'm just gonna let a whore like you get comfortable, just like that?"

"N-No sir," you whimper.

Kent's eyes don't move from you, his gaze as hard as it was the night he first met you. Even as he slowly begins to undress, his glare is still unmoving. As soon as his torso is bare, your eyes wander, taking in all of his muscle and scars.

"Come here."

"Hm? Wha-?"

"I said 'come here'. Don't make me have to fucking repeat myself," he crosses his arms across his chest.

You waste no time making your way over to him, only to be shoved to your knees. You look up at the older man and your mouth waters at what'll happen next.

Kent's hands move to his belt, undoing it and pulling his pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes widen at his size, wondering if he'll even fit inside your pussy. Oh well, now's not the time to think about that, especially since you had a job to do.

"I take it I don't have to tell you what to do?" he asks.

You nod, taking his dick in your hands and jerking him off. You then begin to swirl your tongue around the tip, getting a feel for his length. Once you feel ready, you take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth, taking him as far as your gag reflexes would allow you.

Kent moves his hand to the back of your head, gripping your hair harshly. He tries to be nice and let you suck him off at your own pace, but impatience begins to consume him.

Eventually, he forces your head all the way down his dick, causing you to gag and for tears to form in the corners of your eyes. You ball your hands into fists and try to relax your throat, allowing the older man to fuck your mouth however he'd like.

And that's just what he does. He continues to use your mouth at a harsh pace, groaning with pleasure at such. Your panties are soaked, and you move one of your hands underneath the waistband to stroke your clit. Your moans add to the older man's satisfaction, and he looks down at you.

He loves what he sees. You with teary, half-lidded eyes, some saliva seeping from the corners of your mouth, and your hand touching yourself.

Suddenly, Kent pulls you off of his cock. While you're happy to have a breather and give your jaw a bit of a rest, you still feel disappointed that you aren't gonna feel him cum down your throat. As such, you remove your hand from your panties and look up at him confused.

"Don't let me stop you, sweetheart. In fact...," he pulls you up from the floor and moves you to the bed. Your panties are then ripped from your body, and the older man removes the rest of his clothes as well. "There... now why don't you continue playing with that pretty, little pussy of yours."

His words make you shiver and your wet hole to clench around nothing. You spread your legs and move your hand back to your cunt. You soak your fingers in your slick and go back to rubbing your clit. You tilt your head back , and breathy moans drip from your lips.

Kent takes in the sight of you. Despite wanting to fuck you right then and there, he still wanted to enjoy a bit of a show, especially as your moans grew louder. While you are distracted, he moves to his bedside table and rummages for a condom in the drawer. It's nice that they are finally going to get some use, now.

He moves back to you and grabs your hand, halting your motion. You whine in frustration, as you were on the verge of your release, but get cut off as you are flipped onto your stomach.

"On all fours. Now," he growls.

You waste no time getting onto your hands and knees, and feel the bed dip behind you. Kent gets into position, before ripping open the condom's packaging and rolling it onto his dick. He then lines himself up with your pussy, before pushing into you.

You cry out at the feeling of being stretched out and drop onto your forearms. The older man barely gives you time to adjust to his size before setting a harsh pace. You had never felt such an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure in your life. Needy, high pitched moans leave your mouth at his cock thrusting in and out of you.

"Yeah? You like that, huh? You like getting fucked by married men?" he growls into your ear after leaning down so that his chest was to your back, still not halting his pace.

You try to respond, but it feels like the tip of his dick is hitting your cervix, which scrambles your sentences into sobs of pleasure.

"Of course-fuck! Of course, a dirty, little homewrecker like you does," he moans, while wrapping his hand around your neck once more.

Despite his degrading words, Kent is enjoying this as well. As horrible as it sounds, he does love the feeling of your tighter, younger pussy when comparing it to his wife's. Scratch that, he just preferred everything about you when compared to Jodi.

You listened to him, you were there for him, instead of just pretending that everything was okay. It could've helped that you never knew him before his deployment, or it could've been that you tackled things that were wrong instead of ignoring it.

At the moment though, he doesn't care. He'll think about it later, right now he has a job to do. Right now, your pretty, little cunt was tightening around him and your moans were now screams. You were going to cum, and he would let you, but not that easily.

Kent slows his pace and his thrusts become shallow. The sudden change causes you to whine in a combination of confusion and frustration.

"Aw, what? Did you really think I'd let a whore like you cum?" he chuckles cruelly at your desperate whimpers.

"K-Kent...please," you even try to push your hips back, but he tightens his hold on your neck, stopping you.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Why should I let you cum, hm?" he didn't expect you to give him a good answer. In fact, he didn't even care what you told him. He just wanted to hear you beg.

"P-Please, I-I'll do anything! Please!" you feel tears beginning to flow down your cheeks. After keeping you from cumming once, you didn't want him to deny you a second time.

"Aw, you're that desperate to cum, huh?" his faux sympathy makes you nod. "Hm, alright...I guess I'll be nice."

His pace changes to the harsh speed it was before, pulling a surprised moan from you. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you cum harder than you have ever had.

The feeling around his cock, makes Kent spill his own release into the condom. He wishes he didn't have to use it, but he knew the consequences if he didn't, and you both were already doing something that would have serious consequences if found out.

He pulls out of you, and your body goes limp. You are blissed out of your mind, and the bed underneath you feels comfortable. The older man decides to take the time to dispose of the condom, as well as look for any other potential evidence of his affair that would need to be taken care of.

He then returns back to the bedroom, lays down next to you, and starts petting your hair. It's gentle, which seems odd after he roughly fucked you, but you certainly weren't going to complain. You move to face him, and give him a dazed smile.

Kent smirks at your reaction, shifting his hand from your hair to your cheek, thinking while he stroked it.

"You need anything?" he breaks the pleasant silence. You just shake your head, and pull him closer.

You could stay the night. Jodi and the boys weren't going to be back until tomorrow night, which was fine by the both of you.

Unfortunately for you and Kent, this wasn't going to be a one time thing. You both were addicted to each other now, which meant that this could get dangerous. Not that either of you cared though. You both were going to enjoy each other no matter how this fucked up fairy tale ended.

[hopefuloverfury]

Hi moot! Hope you're doing well! <:)

Can i request about pilot harvey meeting the farmer (GN) ? (Those HCs about the bachelors archieving their dreams is living rent free in my head for a while )

Maybe harvey taking a break from aviation after an accident and spending some time in pelican town to rest ? 👀

It could be HCs or a little oneshot, whatever you're comfortable with!

(If Anything just sorry in advance)

Hey moot! This one was a monster, and it took me fucking ages(sorry abt that), but I hope you like it all the same!!

Bachelor/ettes Achieving Their Dreams is here.

3296 words, mentions of scarring, burns, fire, some swearing, and Pierre's relationship with Abigail is pretty... not nice. GN!Farmer, Pilot!Harvey. Half edited, so excuse any awkward phrasing or typos. I tried my best. :') This one is pretty lengthy, so it gets a cut. Enjoy!

When the creatures of the valley are sleeping, and the streetlights lining the town square still glow faintly, Harvey wakes up and starts his day.

Like clockwork, he rolls out of bed to wash the sleep out of his eyes and shock his body awake with a shower. It’s a routine he picked up in the early years of his career, when he was lowest in seniority and always stuck with the longest and earliest flights. Sixteen years later and he still does it, even though there’s no reason to wake up early anymore.

Hopping out of the shower at half past five, he wrings the water out of his curls with a towel, and plucks his glasses from where he left them folded neatly on a washcloth. He wipes vapor off of the lenses with it, holds them up to the light to make sure they’re dry, and then settles them on his nose.

The world turns clear, and a flash of pearly white at the front of his bangs catches his attention. Harvey frowns.

He’s lucky his hairline isn’t receding just yet, but he scowls at how his age is starting to show in the streaks of white, in sharp contrast against the rest of his chocolate brown hair. He flicks a dangling curl away from his brow, and leans in close to the mirror, eyeing his jawline in disappointment. He runs a palm over the curve of his cheek, and sighs.

He needs to shave again.

Well, need is a strong word, because he doesn’t—not anymore, anyway. But old habits die hard.

That takes at least ten minutes, and he’s been shaving every other day for half of his life, but he’s still nursing a nick under his jaw as he walks into the kitchenette. The apartment is cool compared to the sauna he’s made of the bathroom, and his skin blooms with goosebumps when he opens the fridge.

He drags out the almost empty carton of eggs from the back of the top shelf, and pulls a pack of bread from the other side. There are two slices left, not counting the ends. He sighs, and knows he’ll have to pick up groceries from Pierre’s in a few hours when the shop opens. Harvey digs the last of his coffee grounds out of the cabinet above the stove. He’ll need to pick up another bag of those as well, and his head twinges at the thought. His grocery list is getting longer the more he thinks about it.

He shakes the thoughts away. Coffee and food first, before everything else.

He fries up the last of the eggs, toasts and lightly butters the bread, and sits at his tiny dining table with a full mug. The window beside him is closed and the curtains are pulled, but the cloth is sheer enough that he can look outside and see the world slowly start to wake up. There are chittering finches in the tree branches, a brown rabbit hopping through the underbrush of Jodi’s backyard, and if he straightens up enough, he can see pure white gulls gliding over the deep stretch of blue beyond Pelican Town’s beaches.

He eats slowly, gazing out the window as the sun finally rises above the mountains and bathes the valley in soft yellow light. 

Harvey smiles and pulls the curtains back. It’s still too cold to slide the window open—the valley is just three weeks out of winter, and you’d have to be a madman to subject yourself to the early morning chill—but the warmth of the sun should reach him through the glass just fine. He picks up his mug and takes a swig, settling in for his breakfast overlooking Pelican Town.

The peace is short-lived, however. By half past 8, his dishes are empty and clean in the rack adjacent to the sink, and his computer is on the table, open to a 3-day-old email from Steph, his coworker. He scrolls up to the beginning of the message and skims over it again.

Hey Harv, just checking in again. How are you doing these days? How are your arms? Has your back healed? I’m sure you’re following doctor’s orders, but I wanted to check in to be sure. By the way, I talked to Ricky yesterday, and he says he’s doing good, but he hasn’t heard from you in months. I don’t mean to pry, and you know I don’t mind the radio silence, but he’s your best friend, Harv... Reach out to him, will you? He misses you. We all do. Even the trainees have been asking about you (I think they just miss getting drinks on your dime though). Take care of yourself, maybe go outside for a bit, you old fart. I’ve heard the weather in the south is lovely this time of year. Send me some pictures, okay? Talk soon.

Harvey sighs and runs an exasperated hand over his face. 

How is he doing?

His back still aches occasionally, but Caroline’s aerobics class helps with the worst of the pain, and the burns on his arms healed a long time ago. The scars are a nasty reminder, sure, but his skin doesn’t feel tender to the touch anymore.

Point is, he could schedule a physical tomorrow, and his doctor would clear him for flight by the end of next week—but that’s kind of the problem.

Harvey looks at his coat closet. In the farthest corner, hidden under his uniforms, his model kits collect dust. He threw everything in there when he first arrived in the valley, and he’s pretty sure he’d have to lean all of his weight back just to get the door open. He goes tense when he hears an engine in the sky, but he doesn’t look up anymore. 

Harvey pauses. 

When did he stop?

He glances at the time, and closes his computer with a sigh. His chair makes an awful screech against the tile as he stands, and he beelines for his dresser, yanking the top drawer open to grab the first barely presentable thing he sees. An old university t-shirt; one of the few with no holes. 

He tosses it on his bed, swipes the top pair of jeans out of his hamper, and unravels his robe.

Harvey gets dressed quickly and only spares himself a quick glance in the mirror to check that everything is sitting fine. It’s certainly not the picture of professionalism expected by his employers, but they’re not here, so as long as he doesn’t look like he’s just rolled out of bed, that’s good enough.

Harvey slips on his most comfortable pair of shoes, shoves his wallet and keys in his pocket, and steps outside.

The sun assaults his pupils as he makes his way down the stairs, and he squints against the glare until his eyes adjust. It’s nicer out now, and he breathes in the sweet smell of tulips—Evelyn’s flowers of choice this year for the planters lining the square. The dogwood trees are also blooming, leaving the cobblestone littered with white and pink petals. Harvey closes his eyes and inhales slowly, feeling peaceful.

“Shit!—”

Harvey jumps, his eyes flying open in surprise at the sound of wood thunking against glass, heavy like a gong. A few birds leap from their perches in the trees, and a squirrel dives under a bush. He turns to Pierre’s, searching for the source of the sound, and finds a stranger with a giant crate in their arms, fighting to balance it as they reach for the doors. 

Harvey realizes that it is not one, but two crates. 

Stacked on top of each other. 

One of them is starting to tip over.

“Woah, woah!” They yelp, and Harvey moves without thinking.

The grit of the wood presses against his palms as he heaves the top crate out of their arms, and he looks at the stranger with a smile.

“Uh, hello,” Harvey says. They blink, perfectly silent, and he grimaces. “Sorry, you looked like you were going to lose it.”

It’s not as smooth as he’d like, but it does snap them out of whatever trance they were in.

“Oh, no! Thank you for saving it, it would’ve been bad if I lost that one. It’s, uh.” They smile, and there’s an anxious edge to their voice. “That one’s full of eggs.”

Harvey blinks down at the crate, and then the pavement. “I can’t imagine the mess that would’ve made.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Pierre would ever buy from me again.” They wince. “He probably wouldn’t let me near his shop at all, actually.”

“That man does know how to hold a grudge.” Harvey glances at the doors, the glass glinting and reflecting the bright morning sun directly in his eyes. He blinks hard, willing the after images away. “I’m just here to pick up some groceries, but would you like some help bringing these in?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to, but I’d be very grateful if you did, stranger.” They smile. Something warm settles in his gut at the invitation.

“My name is Harvey,” He says sheepishly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harvey. I’m the new farmer.” Harvey doesn’t bother mentioning he never met the old one. They nod at the dirt path leading to the bus stop, and he glances over his shoulder. “I moved into the farmhouse down the road a few weeks ago.”

His eyebrows wrinkle a bit. “You moved in a few weeks ago and I’ve only just met you?” 

“I’ve been pretty busy. The farm wasn’t in the best shape, so I’ve been clearing the land, and trying to raise enough money to restore the farmhouse.” The Farmer lifts the crate in their arms a bit. “Hence the crates.” 

Harvey looks down at the crate in his arms. “How many chickens do you even have? There’s like fifty eggs in here.”

“I started off with two, but I’ve got eight now. They make a lot.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Harvey readjusts the crate, a burn building in his arms. He’s surprised it took so long, though. Maybe the aerobics class is doing more for him than just fixing the back pain.

Harvey nearly topples backward as the front doors swing open, but rights himself at the last moment. The crate of eggs remains safe in his arms, even though the glare that Abigail fixes him with makes his knees weak, and the sword strapped to her hip doesn’t help, either.

“Harvey,” she grits out, and he thinks it might be a greeting? 

He doesn’t have the opportunity to reply, though, because she levels the farmer with an even nastier scowl, and storms off toward Marnie’s. Pierre appears just then, keys in hand and a matching scowl on his face. Harvey doesn’t have to wonder where Abigail got it from.

“Fucking brat,” Pierre spits, jamming the keys into the front doors to unlock them as Harvey and the Farmer share an awkward look.

“Uh, rough morning, Pierre?” The Farmer asks.

“That would be the understatement of the fucking century, Farmer.” Pierre waves them in, and Harvey follows dutifully. The general store is always warmer than it is outside, and in the winter that’s a boon, but right now Harvey can already feel sweat clinging to the nape of his neck. He rolls his shoulders back, and that helps only marginally. “What have you got for me today?”

“One crate of eggs, one of produce.”

“Good. Set them both on the counter. I’ll get my scale and ring you up.”

“Yes sir,” The farmer heaves their crate onto the counter beside Pierre’s register, and Harvey sets the eggs beside it as gently as he can. When he looks up, the door to Pierre’s home is swinging shut.

“Wow. This spat must’ve been really bad if Pierre is cursing,” The Farmer muses, crossing their arms and leaning against the counter. 

“I've never seen him this angry.” Harvey heaves a breath. “I wonder what happened this time.”

“I'm not close with either of them, so I couldn’t guess.” The Farmer shrugs.

“I didn’t think you were,” Harvey whistles. “Certainly not Abigail, with the way she looked at you. What did you even do?”

The Farmer sighs. “Lewis thinks it’s because she wanted to buy the deed to the old farm, and is pissed that I got it through birth.” 

“And what do you think?” Harvey asks.

They shrug again. “I’m not about to hunt her down to find out.”

“She’d probably cut you down if you did,” Harvey says grimly, shuddering at the memory of the sword gleaming on her hip. The Farmer chuckles. 

“She could certainly try.” The Farmer rolls their eyes, a smug smile playing on their lips, and Harvey suddenly gets the sense that he is very, very out of his depth. They look at him curiously after the silence stretches for a few moments longer than necessary, and Harvey swallows hard.

“Groceries.” He says intelligently, and the Farmer’s eyes slowly crinkle at the edges. 

“That is what you originally came here for.”

“I should go do that.”

“You should.” The Farmer nods, their smile unmoving, and Harvey stiffly makes his way to the end of the first aisle.

He can feel the Farmer’s eyes on him the whole way, his eyes skimming the shelf as he tries very hard to ignore the prickling heat climbing up his neck. He slips out of sight, rubs the back of his neck as the feeling disappears, and starts looking for his coffee.

The door in the far corner of the shop swings open again, and Pierre waltzes back into the store with an easy smile on his face. Harvey really should be used to the mood swings by now, but when Pierre’s entire personality changes with the breeze, the whiplash is enough to leave everything spinning.

“Sorry for the wait, Farmer. My scale wasn’t where I left it.”

“Oh, no worries, Pierre. I’m in no rush.”

“No offense, but I don’t believe you,” Pierre jokes. “You’re always in a rush.”

“Not today, thankfully. I’m spending the rest of the day at the beach.”

Harvey hears Pierre clunk his scale on the counter. “The beach? It’s still a bit too cold to take a dip, isn’t it?”

“Oh no, I’m not going swimming, I’m fishing.”

Harvey’s never been the type to eavesdrop, but the store is small and they’re not even ten feet away, so he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter, does he?

He frowns. It’s a poor excuse and he knows it.

He refocuses on the bags in front of him, and sighs. Pierre has a small selection of coffee, and it’s expensive, but it’s better than Joja. Harvey shudders. He would rather pour hot wax on his own tongue than buy coffee from Joja.

Harvey grabs two bags of beans, stands up, and plucks one loaf of plain white bread from the top shelf. He glances down at everything in his arms. He probably should’ve grabbed a basket.

“Alright, that's the last of it!”

“Thank you, Pierre, I appreciate it.” Harvey perks up.

“Oh no, it’s no trouble at all. Your farm is already doing a lot of good for the local economy, even with that cursed Joja Mart across the river.” Harvey nearly snorts. No one in town is as vocal about their hatred for the big blue building as Pierre.

“Give it time, Pierre. It’ll close down eventually.”

“In a perfect world, it never would’ve opened in the first place.”

“Have a good day, Pierre,” The Farmer calls over their shoulder, and Harvey tenses when he realizes the sound of their steps is getting closer. Harvey looks up, and the Farmer is smiling at him, half concealed by the rack as they peer around the corner. “Hey.”

“Uh, hi again.” Harvey manages a tiny wave past everything in his arms, and the Farmer’s smile widens.

“Just wanted to thank you again for the help,” The Farmer says warmly. Harvey opens his mouth to reply, wanting to say something about it being no trouble, but they’re already dipping out of sight. Regret sours in his throat. 

But then they’re reappearing a moment later, still leaning past the corner of the aisle like they’re in some goofy movie poster, with a basket hanging from their hand. “Need a basket?”

Harvey wonders if the twitch of his lips is visible under the fluff of his mustache, and walks up to them. “I do, thank you.”

“I think this is the least I can do, considering.” The Farmer holds it out to him, keeping the handles out of his way as he dumps the bags of coffee and bread into the basket. “I would’ve lost a lot of income if you hadn’t lent me a hand when you did, so thank you.”

“It wasn’t any trouble.”

“Maybe not, but I appreciate you all the same. It’s nice being out here, surrounded by people who actually give a damn about each other.” Harvey stares at them in surprise. “Even the nicest people in Zuzu wouldn’t have given me a second glance.”

“You’re from the city?”

They nod. “Not by birth, but yeah. I was living in Zuzu for a few years until now.”

Harvey takes in their sunkissed skin, and the sturdiness of their arms. They look like they’ve been in the fields for years. “I never would’ve guessed.”

“That’s probably a good thing.” They hold his basket out again, and Harvey takes it.

“Thank you, Farmer.”

They smile, and the flecks of dirt on their face catch his eyes like diamonds. “You’re welcome. Have a good day, Harvey. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Harvey mumbles as they finally leave, the bell above the doors cheerily punctuating their departure. 

It takes him a long time to shake himself out of it, but he manages eventually. Harvey plucks a few extra things off the shelves, and when his basket is appropriately heavy, he makes his way to the counter where Pierre is busy separating eggs into cartons.

“Morning, Harvey,” Pierre greets him familiarly, and Harvey nods his head.

“Morning, Pierre.” Harvey clunks his basket on the counter. “Can I get two cartons of eggs too, please?”

Pierre checks him out quickly, and Harvey is out of there two minutes later with his arms full and his wallet a little lighter.

He climbs up the steps to his apartment, and pauses at his door. He looks up toward the bus stop; squints hard to see past it. The trees block most of his view, but he can still make out the hint of open farmland between the branches. Harvey blinks and turns to his door, his keys jingling obnoxiously between his fingertips as he unlocks it and steps inside. He’s being weird.

He sets his bags on the kitchen counter and starts unloading his groceries.

Later, just past noon, Harvey is sitting in front of his computer, once again failing to type up a worthwhile reply to Steph. He gets a sentence down, maybe two, and then he’s grumbling to himself and deleting everything again. And again. And again.

And again.

Harvey thunks his head against the tabletop in defeat, and groans loudly.

“This isn’t working,” Harvey mumbles, as if the world needed any confirmation. 

He sits up, his forehead aching faintly, and looks out the window. Beyond the square, beyond the thick line of trees, he can see the ocean glittering under the sun, deep blue and endless.

All it takes is a tug in his chest, and Harvey gets up, puts his shoes on, and walks out the door.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Hi Goose! I know I said I wasn’t gonna interact with anyone regarding my OCs, but I couldn’t help it 🤭

Imagine Keith trying to pull a fast one on Annika when she joined Perseus, as they were very concerned about where her loyalties lied.

He’d think it’d be a quick and easy thing to gather evidence that she was a traitor. What? She was young, naive, and no experience in the real world, can’t blame him. Annika’s cute as a button. Keith’d be like “Why are we so worried about this kid? Didn’t we just pick her off the side of the street?” (They did)

Annika’s feeding some squirrels at a park bench, humming to herself, smiling and shit. Then this jackass interrupts her and tries to tell her there’s a way to get out of receiving punishment for her crimes. If she told Keith everything she knew about Perseus, she wouldn’t be charged for any of her crimes and in turn not be sent to the gulag. Yeah okay bud.

Annika acts like she’s buying it, nodding her head along every word Keith says like “Yes… I wish that the things I’ve done as a child would just disappear. I never wanted it to be like this.”

“I’ll tell you what you wish to know, but it’s dangerous here.” Takes him to the other side of the park. Keith’s thinking “Yeah, this is easy as fuck.”

That is, until Annika’s about to put his head in a wood chipper, the only person who could help him an elderly Russian man with jaundice. Whether she’s more angry about Keith knowing about Perseus, or that she was interrupted, he did not care.

Annika would be laughing her ass off when Keith was forced to convince her they were on the same team. Wouldn’t even apologize, just seeing the whole thing as a joke.

“You Americans are so funny! Almost snort almost killed you man!”

Never again.

LMAOOOOO I know for a fact that Keith would have seen his life flash before his eyes - he relived his entire life and beyond in those moments.

What's funny is that Keith is pretty strong, right? He's military trained, smart, tactical, but he thought "hey, this is a kid, fucking easy" and let his guard down for a split second and Annika snatches that sliver of an opening and compromises him. If he hadn't let his guard down, been as calculated as he is being with Jodie, maybe he wouldn't have been caught out. But he got complacent. He was stupid.

Let's just say, Keith learned a valuable lesson that day - the guard always remains up and you never get close enough to a wood chipper to have your head thrust into it.

I just imagine he's holding onto anything he can, desperately making sure his beautiful, unscathed (stupid) face doesn't touch the blades.

He still has nightmares.

Whenever he sees Annika, he gives her a wide berth and a respectful head nod.

He probably also says to Perseus that he will not interrogate her if there are any future concerns, Stitch can do it. Or Naga. But not him.

also ASDFGHJ I LOVE I love that you had to spare a second to bully him XD it's great - he deserves it.

[redleavesinthewind]

📕

OKAY HI I’M GONNA TELL YOU ABOUT MY SUPERHERO AU!!!!

okay so this is probably the most complex fic i’ve ever thought of (the backstory to the actual plot is insane) but i doubt i’ll ever have the time to write it so here we go:

this isn’t a superhero in a traditional sense. they’re not actually called superhero, they just. have powers. and instead of using them to save humanity or something they just… do a hell of a lot of infighting. and they’re doing it in secret, the general population doesn’t know that people with superpowers exist

the plot: claire novak hears voices. she’s been to countless psychiatrists who have no idea what’s going on with her, but they settle on diagnosing her with schizophrenia because her father (who disappeared when she was a kid) was also diagnosed with schizophrenia. abandoned by her mother, she lands in the foster care system. shortly before she turns 18, she’s contacted by a man named zachariah adler, who tells her he has a job for her, but doesn’t elaborate. the same day, a strange woman hands her a train ticket and tells her to never, under any circumstances, trust the Angels. claire is confused, but climbs into the train anyway. she arrives at a school and very quickly figures out that it’s not a normal school. it’s full of kids with superpowers, and surprise surprise, the voices claire has been hearing are snippets of communication (phone calls, emails, letters, texts, etc) that she picked up from around her. and if she trains her powers she can listen in on anything. not only does she have powers, she is one of the most powerful among all of them. she also learns that the school is more like a safe house for the kids cause there’s a secret war between three different factions going on, and claire has almost been recruited into one of them (the angels). the other factions are the demons and the resistance. while the angels and the demons are trying to get control over all powered people (and love to fight each other) the resistance, founded by samuel campbell, just wants some goddamn peace. while the school is supposed to be neutral ground, most of the teachers are part of the resistance

now about the teachers, they’re a mix of people born with powers (donna, charlie, bess, bobby), people that got powers because the angels and demons decided to do some experimenting (sam, garth, cas), non-powered people that had run-ins/ family that’s powered (dean, jody, eileen, ellen) and the principal is rowena, who seems needlessly overpowered and no one actually knows anything about her past

now claire tries to find her home in this school, but it’s a bit tricky cause one of the teachers looks exactly like her dad. but he’s not her dad. he talks differently, moves differently, doesn’t remember claire at all, and has lived all his life in the angel laboratories before he was rescued. HOWEVER he has the same powers as claire. which confuses everyone cause powers are inherited.

before they can look into it more, one of the kids and claire’s new friend emma is kidnapped by the angels. which also confuses everyone because usually the angels want people with extraordinary powers and while emma is super strong cause of her mother, there’s nothing else to her powers cause dean doesn’t have any (or does he???) anyway dean wants to go save his daughter, but rowena won’t let him leave for reasons she doesn’t disclose, so claire, alex and patience sneak out and save emma themselves. that’s as far as the plot goes in my head

oh also dean and cas are together in this. obviously.

if anyone wants to know more about this, any specific character (basically everyone is in this btw), the backstory of how the powers even started, the conflict, what rowena’s deal is, anything really, ask away. while i haven’t written a word of the actual plot, i have 7k words worth of backstory and character profiles

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 147

Time After Time/The Big Bang

“Time After Time”

Plot Description: The God of Time sends Dean back to 1944, where he is immediately arrested by the legendary Elliot Ness who, surprisingly, is also a hunter

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: we start with the boys, that is not encouraging for my survival. The only plus is knowing this is a time travel story…so, maybe?? I dunno. Maybe it’s like a weeping angels situation for me

CANTON, OHIO?? It’s funny how we will straight up claim something more than an hour away as still definitely being part of the area.

Dean, what you watch is not just called anime. I love you, but don’t lie to yourself or us. Are you allowed to say the word hentai on network television?

This house where they’re investigating (second one) is beautiful! Got a turret and stained glass

Ohhhhhh that’s the context for the “more anime or are you strictly into Dick(/dick) now?” line. Yes he means Dick Roman, billionaire turned leviathan, but also…

It’s missing Castiel hours…for me.

Lmao at Dean having to use his fingers to calculate what year it is.

Dean gets to go on all the fun field trips. Maybe this is to make up for how everyone made fun of him in the old west. He’s so flustered and excited

You’ll do what to his what, Dean?? But he does look good in 1940s attire

The switching back and forth between Dean & Elliot and Sam & Jody…it, and I’m sorry to say it, feels a little pointless to have the Sam & Jody part. MAYBE they actually contribute later, but Dean’s time traveling adventures are much more interesting

Jody and Sam reminiscing about Bobby is sweet, though

Sometimes I forget that Elliot Ness does have Cleveland ties. Then I remember that a local brewery literally has a beer named after him. WHICH IS WEIRD CONSIDERING HE WAS A PROHIBITION OFFICER. (Now I’m gonna pause the show for a search as to why they did that)

Calling it a paradox seems a bit strong…there is a word for what it is but it’s of course escaping me now. Also, the brewery owners’ mom was apparently Ness’s stenographer

Ness’s trunk arsenal gives the Winchesters’ a run for its mone

I was liking this lady who was kind of like Ness’s Bobby (maybe not in the parental figure way but the knowledgeable about how to kill so many supernatural beings way) until she went and kissed Dean out of the blue and a bit as payment for what she got for him and Ness to kill Kronos

Omg yes Dean. Sending Sam messages on the floorboards from the past. I love it

Not me being like “OH?? THAT day??” when Sam pointed out that Dean’s letter was written on November 5, 1944

Oh so we have a case of Schrödinger’s Dean. He’s alive in 1944, but he’s also dead now, but he hasn’t been born yet in 1944, but also Sam and Jody are still trying to get him back. It’s all very wibbly wobbly timey wimey…stuff. Remember when this was just a show about two brothers trying to find their dad and killing monsters on the way?

Well that was wonderfully ominous. “You’re future is covered in thick, black ooze”

“The Big Bang”

Plot Description: The Doctor is gone, the universe is collapsing, and the only hope lies in a little girl

I remember this one as the fun half (with the exception of the speech to stall the attack), let’s see if I’ve remembered correctly

Little Amyyyyyyy. You know, I never picked up on the fact that she is PRAYING to SANTA. Like…it’s one thing to try to get his attention near Easter, but praying is a bit far. Also…does she think he goes into hibernation? She said it’s Easter now so I hope I didn’t wake you…

☹️☹️☹️ the Doctor didn’t come in this timeline

I wouldn’t want to live in this timeline. How can you live with no stars in the night sky?? Especially if you know they’re supposed to be there, but no one else does

The fact that the Pandorica is just in a museum now…

Man, you have no idea how much I wish I could easily read that note (it just says “stick around pond” but I have a bad time reading things on tv screens)

OKAY I wasn’t crazy for remembering seeing AMY Amy in the Pandorica

Cool. Now we have Schrödinger’s Amy.

Why IS it that the Doctor getting sealed brings about the unbirth of the universe??

Oh no. THAT is terrifying. The thought that we’d definitively be alone in the universe

Rory making the choice to stay with Amy while she’s in there to guard her and keep her company ❤️❤️❤️

The fact that he made it all the way to the 1940s but potentially couldn’t make it that last 60-some (but of course he ACTUALLY did)

I love that we’re getting a very similar story in both of these episodes tonight. The Doctor’s using River’s time vortex to jump between 2000 years of time to leave notes and clues and give solutions

Oh…River being stuck in a few second time loop ☹️

The way they destroy the fez is always a good laugh

When ISNT he being completely ridiculous in one way or another?

I normally really like River, but this is the writing…it’s the writing’s fault. She’s a generic “strong female character in an action film” in this episode…who somehow still needs to be saved, who still defers to the Doctor. Fuck Moffat

Sad goodbyes that you KNOW don’t last long aren’t as good in subsequent watches

I love Amy’s wardrobe. She always has such good outfits

“We’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one” ALWAYS a good line

Ok. Watching him say goodbye to little Amy IS still sad, but HEY! The stars are back!

(I’m watching this as leaks are starting to drop for mha and it’s just…hard to focus. Thankfully, there’s not much left)

I feel bad for both of them. Rory’s so confused why Amy’s so sad and distracted at their wedding reception, and Amy’s so fucking confused and distraught.

The rest of their wedding seems like a good time though

[wearywinchester]

Good Enough

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes south and you can’t get past a loss, Dean helps you through it.

Requested by Anonymous: “Hi! I was just wanting to request and dean winchester x reader where the reader is struggling to deal with a hunt that didn’t go right and the person they were trying to save didn’t make it and dean helps the reader?”

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, guilt, injury, blood, comfort, fluff

If there’s anyone that knows you better than you know yourself, it’s Dean Winchester. He knows you like the back of his hand and it’s been like that for as long as he can remember. That being said, it takes a lot to get anything past him. It takes a whole lot to fool the green eyed hunter, no matter how good you are at telling him you’re fine. He knows the signs, he knows what to look for.

He knows.

This time was no different than before. He knew it the moment it happened, saw the look on your face, that frown you got that you don’t even realize you have. He knew it because it wasn’t like most other times when you lose someone on a hunt. Each time it happens it’s never easy, it’s never ideal when you lose people to some nasty monster that does nothing but prey upon people. They were monsters, that’s what they do.

It was never easy but he knows the difference between you brushing it off and accepting it, stuffing it down and moving on with the next hunt, and you brushing it off when it really digs down and bothers you. He knows that difference and he knows that lie.

You’re a strong hunter, the strongest one he knows and you certainly handle things in the department of working through your emotions a whole lot better than he can. So much better but even then you still have your moments, still have times where a hunt will bother you far too much for you to deal with that all on your own. He knows the signs, he knows exactly what to look out for.

The moment you lost her you shut down. Your gaze lingered and you did that thing you always do—you swallow real hard and you tense your jaw and he knows you’re trying to reign it in because if you don’t you’ll cry right then and there no matter how hard you deny it. You get real quiet, really dismissive and that’s the most telling thing about you. Your silence.

You’re quiet as you sit in the Impala, gaze fixed out of the window as you bite consistently on the inside of your cheek. You say nothing as you sit there and think of everything you did wrong as a hunter that night, everything you should’ve and could’ve done better, the things that wouldn’t have happened had you just done your job. They ran through your mind in a loop of torment and self doubt, every inadequacy you felt you had rising to the surface and boiling over.

The more you thought about just all the ways you possibly could have messed up the time, what the end result was, it made it all the more difficult to keep that tremble from your bottom lip. It made your stomach twist in knots and it made your head ache from suppressing those tears that just wouldn’t go away. It was hard, it was harder than ever to sit there and reign it in.

Dean only found a motel to stay at all of half an hour ago. That demon drug the two of you miles away and a few towns over. Sam wasn’t along, hung back at Jody’s with a broken arm and a busted ankle. There was only one room left at that motel and it just barely worked out that way for the two of you because there wouldn’t have been a bed for Sam. It took about two minutes for Dean to make that decision to skip out on the motel, to drive the extra miles just to get back to Jody’s that night. There’d be left overs of a home cooked meal for you to have, there’d be a much nicer bed for the two of you to share.

It’d be better on you than some tacky, old motel room for a change.

He glanced over at you, that’s what he did the entire drive was steal glances at you. Each and every time he was met with that same look, that same sorrowful look that screamed regret and guilt and he hated that the feeling even crossed your mind. He knew that’s what it was and he didn’t need to ask, it was clear as day what it was.

There wasn’t that much longer of a drive left, he knows that, but he finally felt it was a good time to slip his hand in yours. He knew it was because even though you were stubborn as hell when you were like this, he felt the way you scooted a little closer to him, he felt the way you toyed with the ring on his finger. Your gaze was still focused out the window.

He noticed the little things and it made all the difference in the world.

When you did finally get there, you were ever so quick to snag your duffel bag and go, to slip through the door with hopes of sneaking past any company. You weren’t in any shape to be around anyone, you looked worse for wear in far more ways than one. That quiver in your lip worsened and the clench in your jaw tightened.

Dean knew you’d disappear and he let you, he let you go off and have your space for a little while but he stayed close behind because he knew. He knows that no matter how hard you might try and look tough, no matter how hard you try and prove that you want to be by yourself, it isn’t true. You’ll never admit it but you don’t need to, he knows you don’t really want to be alone, and if there’s one person you really truly need, it’s Dean.

But he lets you have your space for a little while.

So, he checked on Sam, checked on Jody a while. He made conversation with them on how the hunt, didn’t give specifics but they knew it didn’t go so well. They knew because you were there to give them that hug you always do. He made conversation but you were on the very forefront of his mind, and he lingered, he did that until he couldn’t anymore.

You’d splashed water over your face a million times over, more and more until you felt even just a fraction better. You had your own bumps and bruises from the hunt but that was the least of your concerns. A few scrapes, a few bruises here and there was nothing compared to what happened that day.

You didn’t worry about yourself, didn’t want to, it wasn’t a big deal and it felt selfish to worry about what little damage you walked away from that hunt with. It could’ve been worse for you and it wasn’t, it should��ve been worse for you and it wasn’t. That very idea played through your mind over and over without pause. You had to expect this kind of thing on a hunt, that’s what happens as a hunter, but it hurts every single time.

Usually you can brush these things off. Usually you can push it to the very corners of your mind and move onto the next hunt with just as much optimism as before, with just as much courage as before. You could take things as they come and you could accept the downfalls of being a hunter for what it was because at the end of the day these things were monsters.

When you thought about it that way, it didn’t seem so bad. It made it feel like you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, they were supernatural monsters that most people don’t even believe in till they see it for themselves. You knew it was bound to happen, you knew the job wasn’t ever going to be perfect. You knew it but you couldn’t believe it this time.

You rifled through your bag where you’d tossed it on the bed, looking for something you didn’t quite remember. Something, anything to busy your mind and the building pressure behind your eyes. You were frazzled, bursting at the seams and you knew it.

The knock at the door made you jump a little, but you didn’t look up, you knew who it was. You tried to ignore the burning ache running along the heel of your hand, the jagged scratch along your skin more and more painful as it sits under the scrap of bandana tied over it. You tried to hide it so Dean wouldn’t fuss over you, so he didn’t worry because he’d been through enough that day.

“Hey,” he said softly, gently as he walked in the room with the kindest smile.

“Hey,” you say, all the more softer as you dig around some more, letting out a frustrated huff as you lose your train of thought.

“Y/n.”

You didn’t hear him at first, too caught up in your own mind, in your own looping guilt that ate away at you. Too caught up in trying your hardest not to give it up and cry in front of him because that’s the last thing you wanted to do. But it was becoming increasingly obvious as you all but dumped the contents of your duffel bag on the bed, only to realize it was Dean’s.

You let out a frustrated groan as you pick up his clothes you’d tousled around, putting them back in their rightful bag before going for your own. You weren’t yourself and that much was clear, each second that passed you were handling things worse and worse and he saw the way your frown tugged ever so softly at the corners of your mouth. He saw the way you clenched your jaw.

“Y/n.”

You look up at him, gaze meeting his for the first time since that hunt a couple hours back. Your eyes are quick to move, though, fixating on the cut above his eyebrow, the crimson slowly but steadily beginning to trickle down his temple once more. Then they bounce to the cut across the bridge of his freckled nose, swollen and pale purple around it. They went from his nose to the one on his cheek, to the blood staining in his hair. Then you circle back to his gaze, the mere sight of the concern pooling in his eyes having your own begin to gloss over.

All that, all of that was from saving you as you tried to save her back there. Those cuts and bruises he’s got on his face, any bit of pain he was in had guilt bubbling in the pit of your stomach, twisting in knots because you felt you were solely to blame for it.

You swallowed thickly and he saw that too, that thing you always did, and you cleared your throat quickly. You snagged your first aid kit from your bag once you realized that’s what you were looking for.

“Let me patch you up,” you say, and he can hear every ounce of your emotions in your words. He could hear it in your tone and he could see it in that look you’ve got on your face.

His shoulders slump a little and his brows furrow, lips pursing softly as he looks at you with that realization. He can see it in the way your gaze lingers on those cuts in his face a little too long for it not to be so.

“Sweetheart, don’t tell me you think this is your fault,” Dean says, soft and hopeful that you don’t.

You swallow thickly, biting the inside of your cheek as you look at him with that crease between your brows. That tremble in your lip is back, that stupid thing that gives away just how bad you’re really hurting.

“I know it is, Dean,” you say quietly, toying with the kit in your hand as you narrow your gaze up at him.

You watch as his lips purse a little more, as that furrow in his brows becomes all the more apparent.

“Y/n, it wasn’t—”

“Let me patch you up, Dean,” you said once more, a little louder than the last.

He looks at you, at that look you’ve got, one look and he caves. One looks and he’s sighing, following you to the bathroom. There’s not a chance he’s blaming you for getting a little roughed up back there, he never would. He made that choice to step in and snag you before that demon could get you too while you tried to save that girl. He made that choice and if he came out of it a little bloody then so be it. He’ll take it over losing you any day.

He takes a seat on the toilet lid, patient as ever as he gazes up at you with all the softness in the world. It nearly makes you fall apart right then and there, but you don’t.

You take a breath and you dampen a cotton pad with an antiseptic, your good hand settling on his cheek. You feel the soft scratch of his stubble under your palm, you can feel the little bit of tension in his jaw but the looks he’s giving you isn’t indicative of any malice, isn’t indicative of any anger you felt you should have gotten.

Your thumb brushes over his cheek softly before you wipe away the blood that started to run down his temple. He closed his eyes briefly at the sting it evoked, you could feel a little more tension in his jaw but he didn’t say anything. You wanted to say you were sorry, you wanted to say it a million times.

He could see the way your hands trembled as you worked, and he could see it when you dropped some of the first aid supplies. You were crumbling more and more under the weight of this hunt and it was becoming increasingly more obvious the more time that ticks by. The more thought you put into the events that transpired that day.

He nudged you with his knee as you stood between his thighs, pulling your attention once more and you saw the smile tugging upwards at the corners of his mouth.

“‘Member that one hunt at the circus, that spirit masking as that goofy lookin’ clown?” He asks.

You nod softly, and he sees the corner of your mouth quirks up as soft as ever, nearly unnoticeable.

“Sam was so focused on avoiding that damn thing, so on edge that he thought I was that clown. Hit me square across the head and ran like a bat outta hell.” He chuckled softly at the memory as you cleaned him up, your smile widening just a fraction. “Knocked me flat on my ass and had my head spinnin’ for a good while. But you know who was right there with me, kept that spirit away from me while I was down?”

You tilt your head, sighing at his words. “Dean.”

“You did, Y/n/n. I was toast if you wouldn’t have been there and you know it.”

He watched that frown come along again, saw that furrow in your brows and he knows you’re still blaming yourself for what happened earlier. He knows it and it tears him up.

You put a couple butterfly closure strips across the cut above his eyebrow, and one across the bridge of his nose. You clean him up and clean that blood that’s worked it’s way in his hair along the edges. That apology is still sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be spoken a thousand times over to a man who won’t accept a single one unbeknownst to you. He won’t accept it because there’s nothing to be sorry for.

He can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek, gnawing away at it the way you do when you’re trying your very hardest not to cry. You don’t want to do that, not even a little bit, but the threat of you crumbling to pieces in front of him is becoming a little more real with each passing moment.

He looks a little better now that he’s cleaned up, now that he’s got those bandages on and that sweet smile that you know you don’t deserve. He looks better but he’s still hurt and that’s what’s nagging at you, that’s what’s wearing away at you. Two people got hurt today because of you, two people got hurt and one of them didn’t make it out alive. All because of you.

Your lip wobbles and you’re so close to losing it, so close to losing that stubbornness you’ve built up all for the sake of looking tough. That dam was about to break and you didn’t want it to.

“How ‘bout I take care of you now, sweetheart? I know your hand’s bust up pretty good,” he says, trying his best to take the heat off of you because he knows how much you don’t want to cry.

“‘M fine, Dean,” you say, stubborn as ever but he doesn’t care.

He takes your hand, turning it palm side up. He’s careful as he unties the knot in that bandana, unraveling it and pulling the bloodied fabric away. His eyes bounce to the jagged cut running along the heel of your hand, stretching all the way across to your palm. It was angry and red, and it wasn’t quite done bleeding.

You weren’t fine, you were hurt and he wouldn’t believe you for a second if you told him again that you were fine.

“Demon got you good, didn’t he?” He said he stood up, urging you to sit down in his place.

“Could have been worse. Should have been,” you say softly, and you see the faint purse of his lips and that crease between his brows.

You’re not done beating yourself up about this one and he knows it, he knows how fragile you feel and he hates that he can do better for you. He hates that he can make you see it the way he does. Because it’s not your fault. It’s that simple, it’s not your fault.

He takes your hand in his once more, palm up as he looks it over. It’s not deep enough for any stitches, but it’s nasty enough to hurt a good one for a while. It’s bad enough to know that you’re not fine. He can see it in the way you try and tug your hand away when that dreaded peroxide comes in contact with it.

You wince as it bubbles and stings, searing across your palm as his grip remains around your wrist, his palm against the back of your hand. His thumb runs back and forth against your skin as he looks at it and at you. He wipes away the excess and the blood, wipes everything carefully to keep from upsetting the wound further and to keep from hurting you in the process any more than he has to to clean it up.

That wobble in your lip is worse than ever with round two, that pent up guilt overflowing and cracking at the walls you tried so hard to keep intact. They cracked and they cracked as he patched you up, wiping your hand clean as he grabbed a cotton pad and a roll of gauze.

It hurt, it hurt way more than you let on and it was quickly becoming too much to handle as he started wrapping your hand much more securely than before. He was gentle, but the built up emotion, that pressure behind your eyes, the weight of it all was too much to bear for a moment longer and the second he looked at you, that first tear rolled down over heated cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, kneeling down in front of you, “don’t go cryin’ on me now, sweetheart.”

His words were soft as his hand settled on your cheek, thumbing away the tear that fell and the few others that followed it. “Talk to me.”

You look at him, at those bandages he’s got, you look at the way his flannel is torn and the blood you missed in his hair. You look at him, you think about that hunt. You think about what went wrong that day, what went so horribly wrong and the way everything happened. You thought about it and you thought about the nagging and numbing pain in your hand and that’s when it tumbled out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck as he knelt there in front of you. “It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, pulling you up as he stands. Your arms drop to wrap and his waist then, his grip on you tighter now as he tucks you under his chin. “Please don’t say that.”

He wasn’t going to let you blame yourself and that much was clear. He wasn’t going to let you even when you tried your hardest to make him believe it. That frustration came bubbling back in the midst of your tears, that stubbornness came back as you broke away from his embrace.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, Dean. You don’t have to try and make things better just to spare my feelings.”

You turned away from him and wiped your tears, but you felt that gentle grip on your elbow, you felt him turn you back around and tug you in close again. You wanted that, you needed that real bad and you weren’t about to push it away a second time.

You hugged around his waist once more, face hidden against heaps of flannel and his t-shirt as he held you, steady and warm. His chin rested atop your head first before he moved to press his cheek atop it, breaking every now and then to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmurs after a little while, your crying having died down to stray tears that came and went. “It ain’t even close. You know why?”

You shook your head against him, whispering a soft response.

“We did the best we could today. You did the best you could. I know it sucks and I know it hurts, damn does it hurt sometimes, but sometimes we lose that fight,” he says against the top of your head before kissing your head, pressing his cheek there once more. “But we get back up and we try again the next day. Hunting ain’t easy, and I’ll be the first to admit I don’t cope very well. You know that, sweetheart.”

He pulls back to look at you when you tip your head back, looking at you with a heavy gaze as he thumbs away those tears. You’ve got that unintentional pout as you reach up, you reach up and brush your thumb over that cut on his forehead.

“You’re hurt because of me, Dean.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he chuckles softly, bittersweet and he sees the way your gaze narrows.

“If takin’ a couple blows from a black eyed douchebag means I still get to have you here, I’ll take it,” he says, and it doesn’t help your frown.

“It’s not funny, Dean,” you grumble, exhaling a soft huff.

“Maybe a little bit,” he says, shrugging lightly and you roll your eyes, your lip still wobbling. He sighs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple before looking at you once more. “We can’t save everybody, sweetheart. It hurts, I know it does, I’m the freakin’ poster child for stuffin’ things down because I don’t wanna deal with it. I’m the worst at dealing with things. But bein’ a hunter ain’t easy. We try our best, every day we try our best. So don’t think for a second that I’m gonna blame you for this. For any of it.”

You’ve still got that narrowed stare but it softens a little, and you’ve still got that quiver in your lip but his words ease the weight in your shoulders a little bit more. Every time the thought of that hunt crosses your mind, it sends a jolt through you, makes you want to cry all over it again. It hurts and it will for a little while.

But he’s got you.

“I love you,” you whisper softly, nodding as you lean up on your toes and press a kiss on his cheek, and one to his lips. You sink back on your feet and rest your head over his heart as he squeezes you a little tighter, kissing the crown of your head.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he says, softer than soft as his brows furrow at your sniffle, at that last bit of tears you’ve got left to get out.

It was hard, it was beyond hard to lose someone in a hunt. But it’s moments like these that make it better. He’s got you.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho @lyarr24 @malindacath @happyt0exist @awkward-and-indecisive @ajreturnstocringeyaccount

[mersuperwholocked-lowlife]

Just Like You

Word Count: 1,228

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (mentioned), John Winchester, Reader

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: angst, death, small fluff

A/N: ---

Masterlist

“Do you have your crayons?” Dean bent down next to you, while you nodded quickly.

“I don’t wanna go to school, I wanna stay with you,” you looked up at him.

“You need to go to school, (Y/N/N). I’ll be here once you’re done with the day,” Dean said.

“Will you stay with me, please?” you begged. You mustered up the best puppy dog face you could, learning from Sam.

You turned five, calling you to do something you deeply dreaded, starting school. 

“I can’t stay with you, kiddo,” your eyes watered slightly, not wanting to leave your older brother.

“Hey, look at me,” he put his hands on your shoulders before wiping your tears.

“Be strong, kiddo. You can do this. I had to go to school all by myself too,” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“You did?” you asked softly.

“Mhm, it’s the first step in becoming a strong, smart person. So, are you gonna go?” he asked.

You nodded your head as he pat your back.

“Great, now let’s go,” he smiled softly, while you held his finger.

It was no secret that Dean wasn't only your big brother, he was basically your dad. John was never around, and you were something as a surprise to the three Winchester boys. That didn't stop them from taking you in and taking care of you. Dean always stayed with you and always protected you. 

You admired your big brother deeply, always wanting to be just like him. He knew the way to get you to do anything was to say that he did it too. 

He led you to your classroom, giving you one more hug before you ran off, running to your new classroom.

---

You ran into the hospital, your eyes watering as your heart was aching. You could hear John yelling at you to stop.

“Hi there, kid. Do you need some help?” you saw a nurse bent down, looking at you slightly worried.

“Where’s De?” you asked softly.

“Who? Kid, do you have a parent or something?” she asked.

“(Y/N),” John ran to you, holding you tightly.

“You need to calm down, right now,” his voice was low and threatening as he walked you to Dean’s room.

“De!” you pushed away from John, running to Dean’s bedside in an instant.

“What the hell did I just tell you? He needs to rest,” John pulled you away from Dean, while you fought back.

“No, I wanna stay with Dean!” you cried.

“Stop acting up!” John gripped your arm tightly as you winced.

“Dad, you’re hurting me,” you tried to pull away from him but his grip only got tighter.

“We’re going back to the hotel room. You’re being an embarrassment,” John barked at you.

“Let her go, now,” Dean was fully awake, sitting up in his bed while you and John looked at him in shock.

While John was distracted, you ran back to Dean, while he grunted, picking you up.

You wrapped your small body around him tightly.

“I’m okay, kiddo, I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.”

---

“I don't get what the big deal is,” you looked at the passing cars through the window.

“You don’t get… you could've died, (Y/N)!” Dean yelled at you.

“You’re being overdramatic,” you shrugged.

“No! We had a deal, (Y/N). You were allowed to come with me if you stayed in the hotel like you were supposed to. And not sneak off on your own,” Dean continued to scold you.

“Why does it matter, Dean?! I solved the case and I didn't get hurt!” you yelled back.

“I get you’re acting out because you think we’re not paying attention but I am! I know what’s best for you,” he was clearly frustrated, his knuckles going white as he gripped onto the steering wheel.

“You hunted when you were younger than me. I’m ready to hunt, Dean,” your voice was lower than before.

“You’re not ready to hunt,” he replied.

“When will you stop telling me what to do? I’m old enough to take care of myself-” 

“Stop talking. Just… don’t (Y/N). I can’t deal with your stupid teenage angsty crap,” your eyes watered slightly as the car went quiet.

You continued to stare at the trees passing by, taking your focus away from your anger and hurt towards Dean.

---

“You wanted to be just like me. What the hell happened to you?” Dean stood across from you in the bunker.

Your skin was paler, your eyes were red.

You ran away from the bunker, ran away from Dean. You would have made it on your own if Jody hadn't caught you, and immediately called Dean.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you shook your head.

“I don’t want you to say anything! I want the truth!” Dean tried to keep his voice calm.

You continued staying silent, at a loss of words.

“(Y/N), I swear to god if you don't open your fucking mouth,” you took a deep breath.

“You can’t control me anymore. I’m old enough to leave,” you said.

He scoffed, crossing his arms.

“You're being overdramatic,” he scoffed.

“Almost everyone else in our lives is dead. Being here is just a constant reminder of that fact. Every time you stop me, I’ll just leave again, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” you crossed your arms, while Dean clenched his jaw, standing in front of you in silence.

He walked away, without saying another word as you let out a shaky breath, putting your head in your hands before running your fingers through your hair.

You grabbed your bag once more, leaving the bunker, this time for good.

---

Dean had his arm on your shoulder, while you were slumping down, weakened. You could barely walk yourself as Dean pulled you up.

“Keep your eyes open, kiddo,” Dean grunted.

You collapsed onto the floor, groaning softly.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry. Come on, let me help you up,” Dean said. His hands were shaking as he tried to lift you up.

“Dean… stop,” your tears fell down your cheek.

Blood seeped out of your wound quickly, your breathing was shaky.

“We can still save you-” he started.

“I-I’m sorry for leaving all those… I shouldn’t have left you,” you cried softly.

“It’s my fault for telling you to leave. I wasn’t thinking straight. Come on, (Y/N), you can’t die,” Dean felt a tear fall down his face before moving you slightly while you cried out.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before,” you tried to laugh, before coughing.

He applied pressure to your wound, while you cried out softly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

You could feel your life fading away as you let out a shaky breath, reaching for Dean’s hand.

“Thank you for everything,” you said softly.

“(Y/N),” he stroked your cheek softly, knowing there was no way to save you. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“It’s cold,” he clenched his jaw, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah, I know,” he shook his head.

You closed your eyes, your body going limp. Dean kept his eyes shut, holding in his cries while he held you tightly. He took care of you for as long as he could remember, and now you died in his arms.

[themerrypanda]

Another AO3 repost! This was inspired firstly by an old prompt: “Write a story with the line: ‘What did you just do?’ as an opener.”

Title: Doctor Pringle

Word Count: 1,561

Summary: Jodi takes her sons to the Pelican Town library. A few days later, she takes Vincent in for his first doctor’s appointment in Pelican Town.

“What did you just do?!”

Jodi loudly whispered to her sons. Vincent giggled madly in the library.

“Nuuuh-thiiiing��” Vincent drew the word out, and his smile said that it was so much more devious than just nothing. And Sam wasn’t helping either.

It had been nearly a year since Kent took off to fight in the war. To take their mind off the gradually more scary updates on the war against the Gotoro Empire (and thus more nerves about Kent), Jodi thought it would be a good idea to take her boys to the library that Saturday morning. She grabbed a bag with some snacks and they were off to spend the day in the library. When Sam disappeared around the corner, she had thought that he went to talk with Penny, Sam’s friend (maybe more?) and Vincent’s school teacher. To wind down and pass the time, Jodi picked a romance novel from the shelves and began to read.

A few minutes later, she heard the crunch of chips. Like the snacks she had in her bag. She checked the bag, and sure enough, the small stack of sour cream and onion Pringles had disappeared.

“Sam!” she asked again.

“Yeah, Mom?”

“Did you take any snacks out of my bag?”

“Of course not.”

Unfortunately for her, Sam had a lot more experience lying, and after she peeked through and around the shelves, she didn’t see any evidence of the missing tin of chips.

Disappointed, she slunk back into her seat, held the bag at what was left of the snacks in her lap, and returned to reading.

“A reminder, boys: dinner tonight is lentil soup.”

“Aw…” Both boys whined, but they said nothing more. They knew what crime they were guilty of, and this was Jodi’s easiest way to punish them without telling them it’s a punishment. If they were innocent, they were more likely to put up a fight about dinner plans. But as they didn’t fight, she knew they had indeed taken the chips. She smirked at her little victory.

After she finished the chapter of her book, content with its premise, she told her boys to quickly finish choosing their books and the three went over to Gunther to check their books out.

She thought nothing else of the day’s incident.

~

A few days later, Jodi walked her son Vincent to the clinic. Vincent had a 1 PM appointment for his next round of vaccines.

Jodi winced. More than anything, Vincent hates going to the doctor. She warned him of the visit a few days ago, of course, but if it wasn’t for Sam helping to take him mind off of the visit and it being Vincent’s birthday yesterday, she would have heard so much more pleading and begging than she already has. She was already beginning to feel a little crazy. But he’ll just have to deal with it, just as she deals with him.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was the reminder she set to remind her of the time to leave. Also, a text from Caroline: Good luck with Vincent today!

Jodi smiled. Her friend remembered the conversation they shared two days ago and her concern with how well Vincent will take to visiting a new doctor. She quickly texted her friend and fellow parent back: Thanks!

“Vincent!” She shouted from the kitchen. “It’s time to go!”

Vincent sniffed. He had been crying on his bed since she told him they were going to the doctor ten minutes ago. “Do I have to get my shots?”

“Yes, dear. They will help you become big and strong.” Speaking of big, was Vincent a little short for his age? Another question she would have to ask Doctor Harvey.

“Like Daddy?”

A pain shot through Jodi’s heart. “Yes, Vincent, like Daddy.”

Thankfully, this comparison helped him find the resolve to make the brief walk to the clinic. Jodi held his hand as they slowly walked to the clinic. Maru, Robin’s daughter, smiled at them and checked them in for the appointment. Jodi hoped Vincent’s bit of courage and inspiration would last long enough to make it through their wait in the lobby, but to no avail.

Vincent shifted in his seat, and a little tear streamed down his cheek. “Mommy, don’t make me do it.” His wide, glistening eyes begged. The poor boy was so nervous!

Jodi sat him onto her lap and gave him a big hug. He squeezed back. “Be brave, Vincent. Think of your father.”

Vincent nodded, but still clung to her like a monkey. Her little monkey. Gently she rubbed his back to console him.

Finally, she heard the door open, and in came Doctor Harvey, a tall young man ten, maybe fifteen, years her junior. He smiled when he looked over to them. “Vincent, is it?” he asked in a pleasant voice.

Vincent pulled himself from Jodi and nodded to the doctor.

“I’m Doctor Harvey.” The kind doctor said. “Let’s go to the examination room.”

Jodi and Vincent followed him down the hall. Harvey had Vincent weighed and his height measured, and recorded the numbers on his clipboard. Then they walked into the exam room. The room looked just like any other exam room in Zuzu City, except that it was a little bit small, and an out-of-place tin of Pringles sat on the countertop.

Vincent leaned into Jodi’s side, as if to shrink away. But she didn’t understand why he was staring at the tin of Pringles, until a closer inspection, that is. This tin had rounded rectangular glasses drawn on Mr. Pringle, and a shirt and jacket drawn around his tie. She glanced at Doctor Harvey and recognized the resemblance. The green tin even almost matched Harvey’s signature sport coat.

“Oh, that?” Harvey chuckled. “I found it in the library a few days ago. I thought nothing of it at first as it was empty and near a trash can, but then I spotted the drawing on it. I liked it so much I decided to keep it.” He then looked at Vincent. “Do you happen to know who drew it? I’d like to ask for his autograph.”

“It was me!” Vincent laughed. “I drew the glasses.”

So that’s what he was snickering about in the library, Jodi realized. She found herself smiling and stifling a laugh.

Harvey grabbed the tin, and carried it and a marker over to Vincent for him to sign. Next to the can, she realized, were a tray with Vincent’s shots all ready to go.

Harvey let Vincent write his name on the tin in big fat letters that looked more like squiggles than letters as they wrapped around the container.

“Hmm…” Doctor Harvey thought aloud, “this looks like my own signature.”

Jodi and Vincent cackled as Harvey placed the Pringles tin back on the countertop, Mr. Pringle’s face and the V in Vincent’s signature pointed out to them.

“So Vincent, why did you go to the library on Saturday?”

“Mom wanted to go!” Vincent replied merrily. “She wanted us to look for a few new books to read. But I don’t read books as big as hers. I like to play with my toys!”

And in the middle of the sentence, Doctor Harvey managed to put a sanitizing wipe on Vincent’s arm and put one shot into it. Vincent’s eyes grew wide in surprise. Jodi feared he was going to cry.

“I– I didn’t feel anything!” Vincent exclaimed.

“Good.” Doctor Harvey smiled. “I was just about to ask if you did. Now, how about you tell me more about your toys?”

Vincent babbled on about some of his favorite toys: a train, a funky green creature called Foroguemon (not FrogMan, Fo-rogue-mon) that acted as both a superhero and a bad guy. In the meanwhile, Doctor Harvey managed to give him his other shots, all while Vincent was distracted from talking.

And, most importantly, Vincent allowed it to happen.

“Alright, Vincent,” concluded Doctor Harvey, “you’re finished with your shots!”

Vincent nearly stood up in his seat. “Hooray!” He cheered.

Jodi couldn’t help but to smile as well. The day she feared would go so wrong went so well. To her relief, Pelican Town’s doctor could make her child feel at ease. No other had been able to accomplish that before.

“Doctor, do I get a lollipop for being so brave?”

“Vincent–”

“It is fine, Jodi.” Harvey reassured her. He knew perfectly well of the Zuzu City doctor custom of rewarding children with lollipops after their doctor’s appointment. “As a matter of fact, Maru has a bowl of sugar-free candies at the front counter for brave patients such as yourself, Vincent. You may pick one, but you might have to wait until after dinner before you can enjoy it.” He glanced back at Jodi.

Jodi released a sigh of relief. “Yes, you can pick your candy now, and eat it for dessert after dinner.”

“Yay!”

The three walked down the halls and back to the main lobby where, sure enough, Maru had a bowl of candy waiting. As Vincent sorted through the bowl, trying to pick the best and biggest piece of candy, Jodi whispered her thanks to the good doctor and he cleared up some of the questions she had.

She’ll have to order pizza and bring out the ginger ale for dinner tonight.

[45percenterthen]

Belated bday fic for bearer of cursed fruit facts @seraphlm and thee plant dad cas truther @cactuscas !! Love u guys v much, happy bday <3 (ao3 link here)

“Fuck’s a horoscope again? It’s like, stars and shit, right?”

He bumps Cas’ elbow, who’s squinting at one of his fern-looking-things like he’s experimenting with horticultural telepathy. The saga of the fern-thing has been turbulent, to say the least. It’s wilting a bit, leaves curling in on themselves like tiny fists. Cas has spent the past few days carting it from one window ledge to another, muttering to himself about humidity levels with a familiar air of irritated devotion. Dean reckons the whole underground bunker situation probably isn’t helping. It’s well travelled, though, for a plant. Dean thinks it should be more grateful.

Cas nods, releasing a leaf with a sigh and sitting down next to Jack. “Indeed. Stars and shit.”

Jack’s engrossed in some magazine, finger tracing the words as he reads. Cas reaches for the edge of the page to hold it taut for him, and Dean can practically see his other hand itching for his phone. Diagnosis time for the fern-thing. Dean’s never seen a favorites bar so wholly taken up by gardening websites. Dean’s pretty sure the definition of true love is pausing Die Hard to read an article about potting soil drainage.

“Do you want to hear yours, Dean? It’s for this week.”

“Sure, kiddo.” To be honest, Dean thinks the concept of fate can very much, actually, go fuck itself. Jack looks delighted though, so he keeps it to himself. He stirs a bit of extra butter into the eggs because that’s the way Jack likes them, dutifully not looking at Cas to avoid a depressing conversation about his cholesterol levels.

“Oh! It says you’re lucky this week, Dean!”

“Awesome, bud! Time to stock up on the scratch cards, eh?”

Sam chooses that moment to come lumbering in. The state of his hair suggests a sleepless night, or that a recent localized hurricane that targeted his bedroom only.

“Hi Sam! We’re reading horoscopes. Dean’s an Aquarius.”

“Oh, cool.” Eileen had been delayed on a salt and burn with some of the new-hunter-network people. Sam looks suitably mopey about it, forlorn housewife that he is. “Mercury’s in marmalade, and all that.”

“Aquarius is ruled by Uranus,” Jack continues, and Sam instantly chokes. On air, apparently. Bastard.

“One more time, Jack? Dean’s ruled by his –”

“You’re a child, Samantha.” Dean looks around for the nearest something-painful-not-fatal to throw at him. Plant’s a no. Instant divorce. He glances at the eggs, but decides he doesn’t want to spend his morning getting egg yolk outta the tile grouting.

“Dude, oh my – I should’ve just checked your horoscope,” Sam walks over to the fridge, catching the Mary Berry’s Baking Bible that Jody sent them for Christmas in mid-air. “Would’ve saved us a talk.”

“Eat your pineapple and shut up, man.”

“Did you know that pineapples are technically berries?” Jack says. Dean wonders if Cas introduced him to WebMD-for-plants. Or maybe this is just a side effect of being The New God on the block. Berry omniscience. “Well. The outside bit is. Bananas are berries too.”

“That’s weird,” Sam closes the fridge door. Stares into his bowl like he’s offended. Dean’s offended Sam eats nothing but fruit in the morning. “After the heaven rebuild. You should, like, fix berries.”

Jack turns to Cas solemnly. “Should I fix berries?”

“Perhaps you should concentrate on heaven, first. Then we can see about berries.”

“I don’t want to ruin the fabric of our established universe,” Jack says, and Dean’s struck, once again, with the sudden realisation that he’s making eggs for the most powerful entity in Creation. Mondays, man.

“I don’t think Chuck had any such purity of intent in mind,” Cas says darkly, pouring more milk into God’s glass for strong bones and teeth, and yeah, Dean’s pretty keen to steer Cas away from that particular line of conversation.

“Hey, what’s Cas’ horo-whatever?” He takes the eggs off the heat and walks over to the table, leaning over to see what the hell magazine this is, actually. Looks Rowena-y. Is the Queen of Hell sending his son-God care packages? That’s one way to establish diplomatic relations.

He rests his hands on Cas’ shoulders, stroking his thumbs at the neckline of his t-shirt when he feels tension. He decides against pressing a kiss to Cas’s hair. Just ‘cause he’s with a dude now, doesn’t mean he’s gonna be all gay about it. Cas’ left hand comes up to cover his own. Their rings clink.

“Cas doesn’t have a birthday, though.” Jack frowns at the page slightly, apparently looking for the section on fallen angel anomalies.

“Then we’ll have to pick one –” Dean starts, just as Cas says, “September eighteenth.”

Cas tips his head back against Dean’s chest, peers up at him. He’s got dried toothpaste at the corner of his mouth. Dean grins stupidly at his upside-down face. “September eighteenth, yeah.” Something swoops in his chest. Cas is earnest, and it’s unbearable. He loves at full volume, and Dean’s as grateful as he is undeserving. He squeezes Cas’ shoulder. Tradition, and all that.

Jack taps the page. “It says you’re a Virgo, Cas!”

They’re still staring at each other as Jack starts reading aloud. Dean brushes hair off Cas’ forehead and thinks, for once, he’s landed himself the permanent kind of happy. Dean’s pretty sure he’s loved him for years and years, quietly, achingly.

There’s the sound of cutlery against ceramic, and Dean looks up to check Sammy’s not weeping into his fruit bowl out of sheer girlish pride or whatever. He’d made it six words into his best man speech before the waterworks. Dean’s never letting him live it down.

⁂

“So,” Dean says later, after Sam’s gone to collect Eileen from town, and Jack’s off on heavenly refurb duty. “My lucky week, huh?”

Dean circles his arms round Cas’ midriff. Lets his chin rest on his shoulder, because he can, and also to check Cas isn’t half-assing the washing up.

“Apparently so.”

Dean hums. It’s funny. They’re married. And yet moments like these, the big ones, still manage to make him a bit nervous. It’s stupid. He’s hardly gonna say no. But Dean supposes they’ve never managed to get anything in the right order. Two deathbed confessions amidst a decade of friendship. An ‘I love you too’ echoing off brick in an empty room. Two kids co-parented before they even kissed, and they were already living together when they started dating. Someone get Nicholas Sparks on the phone.

“Perfect week to put an offer down on a house then, right? That one on the lake?”

Cas drops a fork into the bubbles. He turns his head to reply and Dean takes it as an opportunity to kiss what’s within reach. The smile lines around his eye, his temple greying with the proof that Cas loves him. He’s all in. Dean is too, terrifyingly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude.” Dean nods at the fern guy. “Your plants would appreciate the sunlight, right? And there’s a room for Jack.”

Cas spins in his arms, leaning against the sink to look Dean in the eye. Dean grabs at his soapy palm, intertwining their fingers, confident in his sappiness when no one’s watching.

“I know I always say Sammy didn’t make the most of his college experience, but dorming in my forties isn’t exactly what I meant –”

“You’ll miss him, though.”

“Of course, man. Lived with Sam my whole life. But,” Dean relinquishes the hand to cup Cas’ face, “I kinda wanna do my own thing now. With you. So, move in with me, Mr. Winchester? Somewhere… overground?”

It’s so off-your-feet sweepingly romantic Dean feels like he deserves a medal. Maybe this is their karmic justice after the proposal debacle.

Cas is smiling at him, soft and sweet. “Okay, Dean.” He puts wet hands around his waist and Dean doesn’t even care that it’s seeping through his t-shirt. “Lake house it is.”

Dean leans in, kisses him three times in response. He lingers on the last one, smiling against Cas’ mouth. Cas knows what he means.

[holylulusworld]

Desperate Souls (4)

Summary: Six years later you and Sam are still a thing.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, former Soulless!Sam x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester 

Warnings: angst, talking about prostitution, dom/sub undertones, angry Sam, hurt & comfort, vulnerable reader, soft Sam, fluff, cuddling & snuggling, jealous reader, implied smut

A/N: A short epilogue to see what happened to Sam and his girl.

<< Part 3

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“But Dean said it’s a good idea,” you argue, fighting Sam’s hold on your wrist. “He said that I should distract the Deputy, no flirt with him to distract him. This way your brother could sneak into the office and get the needed information.”

“Oh, is my brother suddenly your boyfriend?” Sam growls eyes narrowed a little. You swallow thickly, feeling your heartbeat quicken when Sam looks at you like he’s ready to devour you.

“N-no Sam but I wanted to help out,” whimpering you feel his large hands grip your upper arms to push you against the nearby wall. “Sam…please.”

“You’re my girlfriend, mine,” possessively claiming your lips Sam growls against you. “Maybe you forgot your place. Or do you want to go back to being a prostitute? Selling you so easily to someone else to get the result my brother wants sounds like prostitution to me,” hurt you look away, sniffle silently as Sam steps away from you. “I told you that your job is to do research, nothing else.”

“I didn’t let him touch me,” running out of the library you sniffle, wiping your eyes angrily. “I wanted to help out.”

For the first time since you joined the brothers on hunts, you had the feeling you did something useful to help them and now Sam is mad.

“Sam, it was my fault. I saw the way that douche eyed your girl, and thought-“ Sam raises his hand, angrily clenching his jaw. “I get it, she’s your girl and I messed up. But don’t blame her for my mistake. Y/N only wanted to help me out.”

“Y/N could’ve gotten hurt,” Sam whispers, feeling his chest tightening at the thought he could lose you. “She’s my girlfriend and you risked her life. What if the Deputy was the guy killing all the girls? Did you think about the consequences of your doing?”

“I was with her all the time-“ Dean talks back, cursing as Sam turns his back on him, shaking his head. “Sam, I would never let anything happen to Y/N. You know that.”

“I know but we also lost people we tried to keep safe! Charlie, Bobby, Kevin and so on, Dean. Sarah Blake died right in front of us while we tried to save her,” furious Sam turns around to glare at his brother. “And don’t tell me we tried anything, I know we did but things went wrong, and she died. A mother died and we were helpless. I don’t want to lose Y/N.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” nervously rubbing the back of his neck Dean sighs. “Just don’t ignore the poor girl. She longs to have your attention and love. Don’t take this away from her.”

“I know how to handle my girlfriend,” Sam growls. “I’m with her for six years and know she needs my attention and care. But,” he smirks now, something dark in his eyes, “she needs a strong hand and punishment tonight. I could see it in her eyes. Y/N needs to hear me praise and me to punish her.”

“I could’ve happily lived without knowing about your girl’s preferences in the bedroom,” Dean mutters. “Stop talking about your sex life with me.”

“It’s our dynamic, Dean. Y/N needs me to be her dominant tonight, not her caring boyfriend. I’ll make her feel good right now,” Sam walks away, leaves a shuddering Dean behind.

“Too much information, Sammy!”

While you look around the room, unsure if Sam still wants you around you gnaw at your index finger. You’ve got no clue where you can go if Sam kicks you out of your shared home.

Dean is a friend, and you consider him family but he’s Sam’s brother and would never choose your side, even though it was his fault you got into a fight with his brother.

“Kitten, I want you on the edge of our bed, naked, hands behind your back and eyes on me in ten,” Sam walks into the room, exhaling dominance. “Kneel and show me what a good girl you can be.”

“Yes, Sir,” you immediately get off the bed to strip your clothes off. Slow to give Sam a good show. You can feel his gaze on and shiver as he hums in appreciation. All you want is for Sam to not be mad at you.

“You’re so pretty for me,” he husks, fingers sliding over your back, causing you to whimper. “Always so beautiful and warm,” his lips meet your skin, force tiny gasps out of your throat. “I changed my mind. I want you on hands and knees, face in the cushions for me.”

“Yes, Sam…Sir,” you moan feeling his slender fingers slide over your chest to pinch your nipples roughly. “All for you.”

“Good girl,” another whimper leaves your lips, and you feel warm, drifting toward the headspace you are seeking since you and Sam fought. “Now do as I said.”

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you, Sir,” you bite your lip, looking up at Sam with teary eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby girl,” Sam’s postures changes in a split-second. He drops the silky scarf he wanted to use to fixate your hands, to bring you in his arms. “Y/N, I’m not mad at you.” he kisses your hair softly at the same time as his large hand runs over your exposed back. “Please don’t think I’m mad at you.”

“But-and-then-and,” you sniffle, face hidden in Sam’s chest to inhale his scent. “I don’t want to lose you, Sam. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Shhh, baby,” he carefully picks you up to hold you in his arms, smiling when you wrap your body around him. “We won’t do this tonight. I only want to hold you in my arms. I was so worried something could have happened to you.”

“Dean, he protected me, but I understand you worry about me. I’m not a hunter and can barely fight you or Dean.”

“Aw, my cute girl believes she can fight me,” Sam laughs when you whip your head to meet his gaze, holding it, a pout on your lips. “What I wanted to say is, that you don’t have to defend yourself, I’ll always protect you. Promise me you’ll never risk your life again.”

“Promised,” pecking Sam’s cheek you giggle when one hand starts to wander toward your ass. “Sam, I love your hands on me.” you moan.

“Guys! Are you naked or can I come in? Uh-erm,” Dean stammers, “Jody called. She and Donna could need our help with a case. Only if you are up to it, Sammy.”

“Another case,” you gasp feeling Sam’s lips on yours to greedily kiss you. “Aw, no sex then.”

“We will have so much sex after that case you’ll walk funny for a week,” he grins, eyes drifting toward the anti-possession tattoo on your chest. His name stands next to it and he smiles, remembering the way you clawed at his hand when you got it. “Make it a month.”

“A month,” giggling you look at Sam, giving him a firm nod. “Noted, Sir.” you husk against his lips. “Now get dressed and save the day, my hero…”

“I hate this,” you whine, looking at Dean who gives you an apologetic smile. “Why must it be Sam? Why didn’t you flirt with that woman to get information? Now he’s running late. What if he finds her more attractive, smarter, or simply desirable?”

“Sweetheart, you are more to my brother than a pretty face. You know that Y/N,” Dean tries to calm you but does the opposite. “Stop pacing around the room.”

You clasp and your hands together, groaning as you can’t get the image of Sam and the doctor out of your head. She dared to touch his bicep and now, well now you are too nervous to sit still.

“I know he loves me but-“ you bite your lower lip, suckling at it, “Sam is an extremely attractive man, a smart one. Every woman we met is whether all over you or my Sam.”

“Your Sam – huh?” Sam smirks when you look at him with wide eyes the moment he steps into the motel room. “When did you make me yours? And why didn’t I know about it?”

“It’s just you know,” trailing off you watch Sam loosen his tie. “Something people in a relationship say.”

“Good, you’re back. Sammy, never leave with another woman or Y/N will lose her mind. She was chewing my ear off,” Dean snickers when you shoot him a disapproving look. “It’s true, sweetheart. You almost murdered me for not hitting on the doctor.”

“Now you know how I felt when you flirted with that douche to get information for us. I don’t want to see you with other men either, baby girl,” Sam holds out his arms, smiling when you immediately let him wrap you in a hug. “Nothing happened, Y/N. And nothing will ever happen with another woman.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine, snuggling into Sam’s warm chest. “You’re always so warm and I got cold feet and hands.”

“My little frostbite,” Sam pecks your hair, while one large hand caresses your back, tickling your skin. “I guess you must always stay close to me. Not just at the bunker so I can keep your warm and safe.”

“I was jealous when you went out with that doctor. She was so pretty and smart, I feared you could fall for her, Sam,” you admit, sighing when Sam pinches your ass.

“Why?” he smirks when you lift your head to meet his hazel eyes. “I got a perfect girl by my side. She’s cute, a little crazy and I can bend her to my will with my hands.” he purrs the last words, eyes three shades darker when you start to squirm on top of him.

“Sam,” you move one hand over his bare chest, and he shivers at your touch. “Do you want to scare your big brother for a lifetime? Pay him back for telling me to flirt with the Deputy, Sir?”

“Hell…yeah…”

SPN Forever Tags

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

Sam/Jared Forever Tags

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[hoboal87]

Baby Mine

Title: Baby Mine

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Jody, Alex, Claire, Bobby

Word Count: 1600+

Summary: You and Sam prepare for the birth of your son.

Warnings: post 15 x 20, fluff, implied dom/sub relationship, non-graphic descriptions of labor, breastfeeding.

A/N: This is my super late entry into @superbadassnatural​‘s #333 badass followers challenge. My prompts are “I didn’t expect it to be this big,” and “this is disgusting”

A/N 2: This is set in the same universe as “The Tie,” and “Carry On,” but it can be read as a stand-alone.

No Beta, all mistakes are mine. I have tense issues, I know.

My Full Masterlist

Miracle’s head lies on your lap as you do your best to remain calm. You can feel the wetness of her nose against the small sliver of your exposed belly. It was unseasonably warm for South Dakota in the spring, and if you could’ve you would’ve been walking around naked all the time. Growing a Winchester has not been an easy task, and your doctor informed you at your last check up the baby will be at least 9 lbs.

Nine. Freaking. Pounds. You’re going to be pushing a nine pound baby out of your body, and Sam was already talking about having another one in a few years! You can’t even imagine wanting to go through all this again. Even though Jody and the mothers you’ve befriended over the last few months have assured you, that you’ll forget about all the bad, all the sickness, all the discomfort you’ve been feeling the second the baby’s born.

A clattering from your bedroom pulls you out of your head, giving you a moment of reprise. Sam’s muffled swears have you giggling as he frantically tries to pack your hospital bag. Jody had advised you to pack one over a month ago, but you and Sam had been so focused on making sure the nursery was ready, as well as warding your home, that you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

Another grunt comes from the hall as Sam seemingly runs into your bathroom, and then into the nursery, where the baby's coming home outfit was luckily laid out on the changing table. By the time Sam makes it back into the living room, he’s nearly out of breath, eyes falling on you as your face scrunches in pain.

You’ve been in the early stages since last night, but you’d woken up to much more intense contractions a few hours ago. Sam takes your hand in his as you wince as a contraction rolls through you. He eyes the watch on his wrist, Dean’s watch, keeping track of the duration and time between each wave of pain.

“Y/N,” Sam whispers, calming himself when your eyes connect to his. “I think it’s time.”

“Alex said 5 minutes,” you huff, rubbing your swollen belly and giving him a pained smile. Having a nurse in the family was the best thing you could ever ask for. Alex, on the other hand, probably wishes she wasn’t, especially after Sam started calling her in the middle of the night with the most ridiculous questions that you’d ever heard of. You’d finally gotten him to stop, apologizing to Alex for another 3 a.m. frantic phone call about the possibility of the baby being born extra appendages.

Once Sam had adjusted to the news of your pregnancy, he dove deep into research, not that you were expecting anything else from him. Parenting magazines cover your coffee table, multiple books on pregnancy and birth are stacked on his bedside table, and he’d watched every youtube video relating to pregnancy and taking care of a newborn.

“I know, but baby we’re getting there. You’ve gone from 10 minutes to 7 in the last hour. The parenting book said–” You roll your eyes, your inner brat coming to the surface after months of being stifled. “Babygirl,” Sam tone changes, and you instantly relax at the phrase you haven’t heard in nearly a year. “Don’t think I haven’t been keeping track of all the punishments you’ll be getting as soon as you can handle it.”

It's just the distraction you need, and your eyes divert to the car seat against the wall.

Sam had tried and failed twice already on installing the carrier in the back seat of the Impala, spewing profanity as you watched, chuckling from the front porch. After nearly an hour, Sam gave up on the car seat, and joined you on the porch, his hand splaying softly over stomach. He leaned over, and placed a sweaty kiss on your lips, it was moments like those that Jody told you to cherish; and both you and Sam made it a point to do so.

“Then you better figure out how to properly install that in the back seat,” you sass.

An annoyed laugh leaves Sam as he glares at the yet-to-be defeated carrier, hesitating now to leave your side.

“It can wait.”

“It really can’t, babe,” you chuckle softly.

It’s less than an hour later that you and Sam pull up to Sioux Falls General Hospital. He���s holding you steady as you waddle towards the check-in desk. An orderly appears with a wheelchair, and wheels you away as Sam hands over all of your pre-registered paperwork. Alex is by your side before you realize it, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. She helps you dress into a hospital gown, and Sam rejoins you just as you take a seat on the bed.

Sam watches helplessly as your face contorts as another contraction rolls through your body. You squeeze his hand tightly, sure that you’re leaving crescent-shaped marks on him. This one is different than the others, it’s more intense, and longer-lasting than the others had been.

“Y/N, look at me, baby, you’re doing so good,” Sam praises as you whimper through the contraction. Sam leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead as the pain subsides. “You’re so strong, Y/N.”

“I didn’t expect it to be that big.”

Five hours later, you’re cradling your newborn son against your chest. Sam’s behind you, whispering praises in your ears and holding you tight against him. You present your breast to the babe, encouraging him to latch on, and to your delight he does so quickly. Sam makes a joke about how Dean was always a boob man, and you comment how his namesake must’ve inherited his predilection as well.

Sam tenses behind you, and you quickly realize your mistake. Dean was always on your mind, and moreso Sam’s, but you rarely, if ever, said his name out loud. It seemed to pain Sam to hear his brother’s name, so you avoided it as much as you could. But now the baby is here, and you wonder if it's a good idea to name him after the fallen Winchester.

Sam’s hands are wrapped around your still swollen center, and you turn your face to his. Tears are escaping from his hazel eyes, and when they meet your Y/E/C ones, he gives you a small smile.

“We don’t have to name him Dean,” you offer, even though you honestly couldn’t think of a more fitting name for your son. “If you don’t–”

“It’s not that, baby,” he sighs, wiping at the fallen tears. “I just– I miss him. Dean should– he should be here. He should be here to meet our son.”

You nod, and focus your attention back on the newborn, suckling gently at your breast. One of Sam’s hands leaves your stomach, and his fingers brush against the infant’s soft skin, remarking that he’d never seen a baby with so much hair, and that he looked so small. You chuckle, and remind him that if he had to push a nine-pound watermelon out of his body, he wouldn’t think it was small.

Sam concedes, unable to contain his laughter, and the brief tension that was in the room disappears and doesn’t return. After little Dean is finished, you and Sam take turns counting his fingers and toes, cooing at your son as you take in all his features.

A nurse returns, and you reluctantly let her take Dean away to be properly cleaned, weighed and measured. She instructs both you and Sam to sleep while you can, joking that you’ll be getting very little from now on. Thanks to Sam being a human incubator you curl up against him and let all of the exhaustion from the last 24 hours finally catch back up to you.

You're woken by Sam a few hours later, informing you that Jody, the girls, and Bobby are outside. Sam slips from behind you, and disappears out of the room for a moment before returning with your found family. Jody’s eyes are filled with tears, throwing her arms around you, congratulating you as Bobby claps Sam on the back.

The same nurse returns with Dean as everyone settles in their places around the room. Jody instantly fawns over the baby caressing his chubby cheeks before allowing Sam to pick him up and hand him over to her.

Jody makes a solid promise to spoil the boy rotten. Claire’s body language changed when Alex handed baby Dean over, and after a few minutes, didn’t want to seem to let him go. Bobby becomes impatient as Claire refuses to pass the baby on. Finally, Sam steps in, plucking the baby from her arms, and walking over to Bobby.

“You ready to meet your grandson?” Sam asks, and a smile you’d never seen before appears on Bobby’s face. Sam places the swaddled baby into Bobby’s arms, and you’re sure you see a tear slip down his cheek.

“Looks like he’s takin’ after his momma,'' Bobby laughs. “Lucky boy, hopefully you won’t be an idjit like your daddy and uncle,” he sends you a playful wink. “Just know you ain’t alone, kid. You got more people who will love and protect you than any other kid in the world.”

“Did you tell ‘em?” You ask, trying to move into a slightly more comfortable position.

“Tell us what?” Jody asks from the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N and I, we want you and Bobby to be his godparents. If anything were to ever happen to us, we want you to take care of him.”

“Well, maybe you can tell us his name first,” Claire pipes up, and you hadn’t even realized that you hadn’t told them yet.

“Dean,” Sam eyes his son still in Bobby’s arms. “Dean Robert Winchester.”

Let me know what you think via ask or reblog! Feedback is fuel!

[huntertales]

Part Two: Vices And Virtues. (Rock And A Hard Place S09E08)

Episode Summary: Sheriff Jody Mills enlists the help of Y/N and the Winchesters to help investigate multiple kidnappings that belonged to the same chastity group. The three decide to infiltrate the group for themselves. But things go wrong when Y/N and Dean disappear. Sam and Jody must rescue them before it’s too late. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Descriptions of intimacy Word Count: 5,728.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

A/N: I tried something with this part...don’t know if it’s gonna come out good or totally suck. Obviously you guys know what you’re getting yourself into with the context of this episode. I really didn’t know how to add proper warning that would make sense, so bare with me. Obviously read at your own discretion. I hope you guys enjoy! 

You'd do just about anything for a hunt if it meant an innocent life could be saved from disaster, or worse, death. YAnd you did your fair share of stupid things over the years. Sitting here in an abstinence support group after regaining your virginity was on the top of the list. You sat on one of the fold-out wooden chairs and patiently waited for your first and only meeting of "Abstinence Purifies Us" to begin. It seemed the group was going to be much larger than you realized it was going to be when you saw a crowd of women come into the room designated for things such as this. What you noticed right away when everyone formed a circle to start the meeting was that there was not a single man in sight besides the brothers.

While you continued waiting, you went on thinking about how regaining your virginity at your age would be slightly strange as well, presuming almost all of the group in the group were going to be those who were high school aged to some in their twenties. You were a bit surprised to see a few who appeared to be possibly other than you. Perhaps they were like you, born-again virgins like you who wanted a fresh start in life. You folded your hands in your lap and patiently waited for everyone to join and get started.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Suzy.” The woman sitting at the head of the circle spoke up and introduced herself after spotting a few new faces in the group. “I’d thought we’d begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends.”

You and Sam closed your eyes and lowered your head out of respect for everyone else when they did the same. Dean didn't see much of the point, seeming to be lost in his own personal thoughts when he stared at Suzy to follow her directions. You opened your eyes to check up on Dean, only to see he was being stubborn as usual. You cleared your throat and shot him a warning glare to play along. He quickly did as everyone else, knowing it was better to go along with the part without causing too much suspension. You rolled your eyes before shutting them again for a few more seconds before Suzy concluded the prayer.

“Now,” Suzy finally moved on to the actual beginning of the meeting after getting the formalities out of the way. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share?”

"I wrote a new piece of verse." A young woman eagerly raised her hand, deciding to go before anyone else could try. She picked up a pink piece of paper and stood up from her seat. "It's called 'Sex is a racket, and God's ball is in your tennis court."

You were expecting to hear all sorts of different things during this meeting, but that one not one of them. You had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep the smile that crossed your face from showing how ridiculous the work sounded. You quickly composed yourself when you caught the disapproving shake of the head from Sam. You wanted to hear what was written, but it seemed Suzy declined the offer, not wanting to hear it today. It seemed she was trying to save the new members from not coming back next time for a bad first experience.

“And we would love to hear that, Tammy—later.” Suzy politely shot down the woman from letting her read to the group. You swore a few people seemed relieved at not being forced to listen to another one of the woman’s works. Tammy's smile slowly fell from her lips at being shot down from her writing she spent working so hard on. She sank down to her seat as Suzy directed her attention to you and the boys. “Why don’t we hear from our new friends? Sam, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?”

You looked over at the younger Winchester to hear his response. He suddenly appeared to be a deer in headlights  when everyone's eyes landed on him, curious to see what his answer was going to be. He wasn't sure what to say, in all honesty, he decided to go with the truth. "Well, I guess because every woman I've ever had relations with, uh...it...hasn't ended well."

“He’s not lying.” You mumbled to yourself, knowing from personal experience. It seemed your comment didn’t go unnoticed from the man himself. You turned your head to see his infamous bitch face flash in your direction. “What? Sorry, Sammy, but it’s the truth.”

“Thank you for sharing, Sam. Stay strong. Stay pure.” Suzy said. The motto was chanted by everyone else in the group before the next person was up to share. And from the way it seemed to be, you were up next. “What about you, Y/N? What set you on the path away from sin?”

"Well, I guess I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I feel at this point in my life I need a fresh start. I haven't liked the way it's turned out since I lost my virginity." You began with your reason why you were here, thinking quick on your feet for a reasonable answer. Sometimes honesty was the best policy. So you went from there. "Funny enough, I gave it up pretty late in life. I was actually a virgin up until I was twenty-seven. Sex wasn't important to me. I was focused on other things. And if I'm being honest...I was scared to give it up to anyone else. It's such an intimate thing for someone to do. Sure, some might think sex is fun, and while they—"

You wanted to say that someone had the right to have sex with whoever they wanted, a natural reaction when it came to your way of thinking. You managed to bite your tongue in time before you could say it, remembering the crowd you were speaking to. "Basically, I wasn't in a rush to lose it. But I knew who I secretly wanted to be my first." 

You turned your head to look over at Dean, a smile creeping across your lips at the honesty even he didn't know about. "It was a spur of the moment kind of thing. We just said our first 'I love yous' to each other and somehow one thing led to another…and we made love in the backseat of his old Chevy.  It was out in the middle of an empty field at night, just the two of us with the radio playing in the background. All of it felt perfect, if I’m being honest.”

You swore you saw a few ladies drift off into personal thought of what it might have been like. A sort of dreamy expression when they saw Dean. He looked like the kind of guy who could charm the pants off anyone. While they were saving themselves for marriage, you saw the wandering eyes, the hidden lust even they couldn't ignore. A little bit of satisfaction came over you knowing he was all yours to keep.

“I realized a lot of bad things feel good in the moment. I had to learn the hard way temptations like mine come with consequences." You went on. "I discovered mine the morning after I gave up my virginity. It turned out Dean was doing something behind my back, something that broke my heart."

"He cheated on you?" Bonnie felt the need to cut in, her pretend sympathetic expression was hidden behind a told-you-so kind of tone.

"Sure. He...cheated on me." You went on with the lie, knowing the truth would sound bonkers to these kinds of people. "Anyway, what trust I thought I had in him disappeared. Lying to me about something like that hurt me. I guess it was God's way of punishing me. But I didn't listen. I ended up doing some other things I regretted."

"This is a safe space, Y/N." Suzy reassured you after falling silent, wanting to act as if you were still guilt ridden to this very day. "Anything you admit today will not be faced with judgement. We're here to help one another. Confession can be a great way to start over." 

"During our breakup, we decided to go our separate ways for a while. Dean dated a nice woman while I stayed single. However, while I tried to be good, I lost myself again to the temptation of sin. One day when I was feeling my lowest and drinking way too much. Sam and I..." The ladies all collectively raised their brows, curious and hanging off your every word about what you were going to say. You let out a sigh, pretending as if you had been holding your breath. "We had sex. I mean, it wasn't like what Dean and I had. It was mindless, rough sex. Our souls weren't in it. Sex always seems like a good idea because it feels good. That is, until you come down from the high and realize what did." 

"And you never did it again?" Bonnie asked you, her little too wide-eyed stare pointed in your direction from what you admitted.

"Oh, no. We hooked up on and off for a year behind Dean's back. And we denied it every time he asked us." You said, adding fuel to the discomfort slowly growing across Bonnie's face the more she heard. "But it made me realize how much I loved my boyfriend. Whenever I slept with someone else, it didn't feel right. And I'm sure he would say the same thing with every chick he brought back from the bars before we started dating. If anything, his biggest sin would be the slew of sloppy one night stands." You turned your head and gave the older Winchester a bright smile as you reached out to grab his hand and embraced with your own. "Right, honey?"

"Thank you for that...interesting share, Y/N." Suzy said. From the looks of it, she was still trying to wrap her head around the details you painted for her and the group. Everyone chanted their slogan to you before moving on to the next person up to share. "And what about you, Dean?"

"Like my loving girlfriend has told you, I have a history of one-night stands. I wasn't a prude. To me, Sex has always felt—I don't know—good, you know? Relationships weren’t for me. It was always too...complicated. It was better to hit it and quit it.” Dean chuckled at the joke that sounded funny to him, but landed on deaf ears. His smile slowly faded as he got more serious to match the tone of the room. “That was until I met Y/N. If there’s one thing I learned while we’ve been together, it’s the thrill of getting to know the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. And I guess like your virginity, you want to give it to someone special. You want to give all of yourself away to this person. For a long time I thought that wasn't for me. Sex has always been about the pleasure. It was fun. You know?”

Dean was trying his best to work with the crowd to try and get them to understand where he was coming from here. But it seemed he lost them again. Nevertheless, he went on with his confession. "But, uh...sometimes all those hookups make you feel bad, you know? You're drunk. You shack up. Then, it's the whole morning thing. You know, 'Hey, that was fun.' And then, 'adios,' you know? Always the 'adios.'

"I got tired of that. I hated filling the void in my heart with something temporary. I guess life kicked me in the pants at some point and made me realize what I really wanted. I wanted Y/N. And I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And, yeah, we kind of did things backwards...had a few bumps in the road. But isn't that what life is all about?” A few women nodded their head in agreement while the others verbally answered. "If anything, being in a long committed relationship made me appreciate how sex can be something meaningful." 

You had to admit, Dean had you in the first half of what he was saying. He sounded genuine with his words, as if he was putting his heart into this and playing up the role to make a good impression. Until it veered in the direction you should've feared. "Like I said, sex has always been fun. I'm not denying that. And it's even better with a life-long partner. You get to explore their body in an intimate way no one else will ever be able to do. Know what makes them go crazy . Isn’t that what it comes down to, right? 

"There's the touching and the feeling all of each other, knowing exactly where to go that gets them all excited. There’s no fumbling around. You just get straight to the point.” Dean was officially having too much fun at this point when he realized almost everyone was hooked in his words, yourself included. He dropped his voice so it was lower, almost sensual. “My favorite part is being able to trace every inch of her body, touching the places that only I get to see. In the moment it’s just the two of us moving together, pressing and pulling...grinding." 

Dean was and always will be a flirt, it was in his personality. A special skill set of his that you admired even before got together with him. Sometimes all it took was a pretty smile for you to feel swooned. While he might annoy you with that mouth of his most of the time, he also could get you in the mood. And it seemed you weren’t the only one starting to awkwardly shift in your seat from the way he was going on. You scratched the back of your ear as you tried to keep yourself focused and not lulled into a fantasy while he went on. 

“You forget about everything and everyone around you when you hit that perfect spot. All you can think about is reaching the end. And slowly, everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just..." Dean made an explosive noise to sneakily hint at what he was saying, trying to keep it family friendly. Tammy found herself lost in the moment, crushing the paper with her written verse, as if she was trying to calm herself down. 

Dean was and always will be a flirt, it was in his personality. A special skill set of his that you admired even before got together with him. Sometimes all it took was a pretty smile for you to feel swooned. While he might annoy you with that mouth of his most of the time, he also could get you in the mood. And it seemed you weren’t the only one starting to awkwardly shift in your seat from the way he was going on. You scratched the back of your ear as you tried to keep yourself focused and not lulled into a fantasy while he went on. 

“You forget about everything and everyone around you when you hit that perfect spot. All you can think about is reaching the end. And slowly, everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just..." Dean made an explosive noise to sneakily hint at what he was saying, trying to keep it family friendly. Tammy found herself lost in the moment, crushing the paper with her written verse, as if she was trying to calm herself down. 

Sam was starting to hate his brother at the moment. The room shifted to an awkward tone after hearing what kind of filth Dean thought would be appropriate enough to speak about. Simple talk that got even the prudent of virgins fidgeting in their seats. You weren’t saved from his ever present glare when you happened to feel his lingering stare upon you. You guessed it was for the confession you made yourself, and not stopping Dean when you should’ve. You innocently shrugged your shoulders and looked on, never admitting to the fact you were lost in the moment like every other woman here. Sam’s expression changed into his infamous bitchface to his brother, appearing again in the span of a few minutes.

“But the whole thing was just a little too, uh...sticky. And complicated. So, uh, I got my ‘V’ card back so I can do things right.” Dean topped off his confession with a smile and a slap to his knee. “The end.”

After Dean’s explicit confession, the meeting continued on like normal without anything titillating details from the other members. You half-listened to everyone else as they took the opportunity to confess themselves of what almost tempted them this week along with a couple of Bible verses being read aloud to help strengthen the bond to their abstinence before wrapping up things. You helped clean up the chairs and tidy up things, deciding it was the least you could do after your share. 

Luckily the meeting continued on like normal without anything else more...exciting from the other members. You half listened to everyone take the opportunity to confess this week what tempted them and a couple of Bible verses before wrapping up. You helped clean up the chairs and tidy things up, deciding to be a little bit respectful after the share you had. To be honest, you said all of those things out of fun, knowing your sexual history was a tad bit odd compared to most. 

You made your way back over to the boys after all of you did your share to help clean up the place, letting everyone else mingle among one another. Sam didn’t waste a second after getting you and Dean to enough of a deserted spot to share his discomfort felt during the entire meeting because of the both of you. You broke out into a smile even before he could get the words out. 

“So, wee bit of an over share, guys?” Sam sarcastically asked you, still squirming around at the details forever burned in his mind. You let out a chuckle in amusement. “It’s not funny, Y/N.”

“Kind of is, Sammy.” You teased him. 

“I was purifying.” Dean said, going to his defense about the reason why he went so graphic. He found himself losing track of focus when he spotted the consular, Suzy, talking to one of the members. “Hey, she look familiar to you? Swear I know her from somewhere.”

“Pack it up, Casanova. That stupid line might work, but you’re not single anymore.” You reminded him. 

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s no one in this world I want to give up my virginity to again besides you.” Dean laid it on thick with the flirtation when you took his words the wrong way. You rolled your eyes. “Seriously. It’s bugging me. Come on, let’s go find out.”

You felt a tap on your shoulder, delaying you from responding to Dean’s request. You looked over to see it was Bonnie standing there with a too wide of a smile. “I’ll catch up in a second, hun. The girls need to talk.” You joked with Dean, nodding your head to Bonnie. He escaped before he could find out what she wanted to talk to you about. You returned the smile when you glanced back over to her. “Hey.”

“So?” She asked you, curious for you to answer something you had no idea what for. You raised your brows and continued to smile, wondering what the hell she was baiting. “How did you like the meeting? That was quite a share.”

“I loved it. I know, but I feel so comfortable around you guys. This is the first time I’ve ever come clean about this stuff to someone else.” You said. You decided to play along for the hell of it, laying on the act extra thick as you went on. “You know, I couldn't help but think of those who weren't here.”

“Oh. Honor. She's my favorite.” Bonnie said, sadly smiling at the mention of the missing member. Before she could continue this riveting conversation, Bonnie found her attention lingering over to the snack table where she saw one of the women sneaking an extra snack for later. “Would you excuse me?”

“Of course.” You said, stepping out of the way to Bonnie could tend to whatever needed her attention. You thought you might be able to finally sneak away and join Dean, who seemed to be in conversation with Suzy. However you were stopped again by another member. She seemed angry for some reason. “Oh. Hi, there.”

“Her favorite?” She ignored your friendly greeting, too worked up at what she overheard Bonnie say. “She has no idea what kind of girl Honor is.” 

“You don't say. Uh, Tammy, right? The poet?” You asked, remembering her name from the horrible poem verse you were able to avoid. She nodded her head. You looked around to see where Sam was, hoping you might be able to sneak away, only it seemed he had your luck when he was cornered by Bonnie after she squashed whatever pulled her away. You withheld the urge to sigh and turned your attention back to her. “Tammy, why don't don't you tell me what kind of girl Honor is?”

That was the wrong thing to ask. She went on a rampage of what kind of person Honor was. You tried your hardest to sound interested as you nodded your head every once in a while, trying to be polite. This wasn’t the kind of stuff you cared for. Or would help the case. “And I bake real cookies for the bake sale. Honor just brings Oreos!” She went on, making you pretend to be shocked. “I mean, she’s not as innocent as everyone thinks she is.” 

“What do you mean by that?” You asked her, your tone shifting into a more serious one.

“All I’m saying is that she’s going to hell.” Tammy said. “And you would be too if you didn’t confess those things and come here to repurify yourself. I bet you feel so much better.”

“For sure. I mean, I already been to hell twice. Not fun.” You said. You let out a breath of relief when Dean waved his arm up in the air, catching your attention. His face scrunching up in confusion as to why you were still talking to Tammy. “Could you excuse me? My boyfriend needs me.”

“Is that supposed to be like some kind of metaphor…?” Tammy’s expression dropped at hearing what you just said, making her confused. “Oh! Nice talking to you!” 

You politely smiled before turning around and finally headed over to Dean and Suzy, wondering what kind of trouble he was getting himself into during your short time away. You doubt he made a good impression on the woman. But it seemed she wasn’t as quick to judge one from the way she was casually speaking to him, no spouts of words about the damnation he was going to face after death. She seemed the most approachable out of anyone here. Maybe that’s why she was in charge of running the group here. You politely squeezed yourself into the conversation when Suzy spotted you lingering before she smiled, welcoming you right in.

“I hope he’s not bothering you too much.” You playfully joked with the woman. “Dean tends to get a bit excited about these kinds of things. If there’s anything he loves more than me it’s God.” 

“Suzy and I were just talking. I swear I’ve seen her face before. I just can’t put my finger on it.” Dean said. “But we were also discussing the fact that she does private counseling.”

“Really? So everyone in the group dishes to you?” You asked curiously.

“They confide. Abstinence is really rough without support and education. It’s a wonderful thing the both of you decided to go on this journey together.” Suzy said, smiling in a kind of way that was admirable for the clear love you and Dean had for each other. And yet you could see there was almost a sadness behind it, almost envious. “Hey, you know what? I have some great books on the vow that really helped me. I live close. I'll just go grab them.”

“No, that’s okay—“ Dean tried to protest the idea of making Suzy go through all the trouble, wanting more to get back to the motel. You quickly cut him off, making his grip around your waist tighten ever so much. 

“With a kidnapper on the loose? We can go with you.” You suggested. Out of anyone, Suzy seemed like a sweet woman who wasn’t going to bombard you with guilt over your past behavior. Maybe if you got her alone she might be able to tell you something about Honor and the other missing couple. “Let Dean and I walk you home.”

“No, I'll be fine.” Suzy reassured you. 

“Please. It’s the least we could do. Just to be safe.” You told her. When you saw the woman let out a breath, almost as if she was a bit relieved, you smiled. “Just let us pop over to Sam and we’ll be right back.”

Dean dropped his friendly face when he stepped away from Suzy after unwillingly being dragged around town when he wanted nothing more than to go back to the motel with you. You decided to put your efforts on something more important when you had the opportunity than jump into bed the first chance you got. You lost your virginity late in life, you could wait a little while to lose it again. You made your way over to Sam after he wrapped up a conversation with Tammy after he was cornered by the young woman. It seemed she had the same effect on the man from the expression that lingered on his face after she left. 

“Hey, we’re gonna walk Suzy home. See if she might know anything else about the vics.” You told the younger man. “Can you stick around here and possibly talk to the rest of the group? See if you might be able to get anything else out?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sam didn’t seem to buy what you were saying, presuming it was a cheap cover to get out of here and back to the motel. “You know, I’m actually trying to work here. I don’t think it’s fair you two are trying to sneak off.”

“Come on, look. You know if Dean was single he’d be all over Suzy trying to do more than just bring her home.” You said. Sam shrugged at the thought, nodding in agreement. “We’re focused as much as you are on the case. No one’s jumping into bed just yet. We're gonna take Suzy home and see if she might know anything else about the people who went missing." 

Sam agreed with the plan from how it sounded coming from you. He waited a few seconds before he nodded his head, letting you and his brother head out with Suzy back to her apartment. Right as Sam turned around to see who else he might be able to speak to, he jumped slightly in surprise at seeing Tammy standing there, a little too wide of a smile on her face when she caught him alone. He managed to hide the sigh that wanted to come out behind a forced smile. He hoped all of this was going to be worth it in the end. 

+ + +

The walk to Suzy’s apartment wasn’t too far from the church like she said, the time it took to get there was filled with mindless chatter about what she thought of the town and church. She had nothing but positive things to say since moving here a few months ago herself. You continued on with the fake lie about yourself to keep the conversation going, telling her how you and Dean were planning on getting hitched and how this town was a fresh start for you and the boys. The three of you were a close family after your parents passed away, the only part of your story that was true.

Right away she got to work finding those books she mentioned back at the church. You decided to shrug off your jacket, not sure how long you were going to be here, and decided to look around yourself at how she decorated her place. Suzy mentioned there were quite a few books around here specifically for couples. Your offer to help when asked was granted when she mentioned there were some in a cabinet you were standing next to. You opened up the small door and crouched down to see what she had here. You skimmed her vast collection of books out of partial curiosity to see what an abstinence consular enjoyed to read. When you found what you needed, you cradled them in your arms and got back up, only to discover you felt a strange lingering stare on you. You turned around and spotted Dean’s eyes where they shouldn’t be. 

You shot him a warning glare to behave before Suzy caught you. Dean’s smirk when he was caught by you was wiped off his face when you a little too roughly plopped the books down to his hands, Suzy followed suit a few moments later with several more of her own. He muffed a grunt from the several self help books he was forced to carry. You smiled in appreciation and slapped the pile with a little too much force, making him almost lose balance on the books. He struggled to catch them before they could tumble to the ground. 

“Thanks, honey.” You cooed. “You’re so strong.”

“Okay. So,” Suzy seemed content at the eight books Dean was currently holding, hoping it would be enough reading material to get started with. “why don't you guys breeze through these, and I'm gonna head to the little girls' room.”

Suzy excused herself before disappearing to another part of her apartment, leaving you and Dean alone in her living room. Dean wasted no time ditching the books somewhere else as you casually looked around the place, all though you weren't sure yet of what you were looking for. It appeared to be like any other bachelorette home. You wandered around the place, glancing over at framed pictures of her life and examining little knick-knacks decorated around the place. Right as you were about to pick up a snowglobe, your cell phone started ringing, distracting you from your search. You looked at the screen to see that it was Sam, probably to check up on you and Dean. You went to answer the call when you spotted a half-open drawer that caught your attention. You let it ring a few more times before you finally answered it, all while opening the drawer just enough to see what was inside, wondering if it was some sort of junk drawer. Only it was much more. 

You pulled out a few DVDs that weren't blockbuster movies from the cover. More dirty films from the familiar titles you heard of. You let out a quiet chuckle from the discovery you made. Apparently Miss Abstinence was a former adult star. That's why Dean knew who she was. She had a pretty active role in Casa Erotica, her movie was so good you knew the man kept a downloaded file on his computer. A secret porn stash he thought you knew nothing about. You quickly tucked them back away when an idea popped into your head. 

You almost forgot about the call with Sam when you heard his voice from the other line call out your name in a slightly annoyed tone from your delayed response. You closed the drawer with your hip and turned around in your spot so you could casually lean against the dresser. Dean tossed you a confused look from the way you were acting as you finally answered his brother's insensent attempts of getting your attention before he could think the worse. 

You half-listened to what he was saying about the case, something about how this wasn't the work of a dragon, but all you could focus on was the sound of Suzy opening up the bathroom door. You told Sam you'd call him back before ending the call. As Suzy stepped back into the living room, you realized the promise you made to Sam was about to be broken. It could've waited until after the hunt was over, but you figured you waited around long enough for your first time.

“I gotta go.” You said, making sure your tone of voice sounded disappointed at how you were skipping out so soon on her. Suzy seemed worried from the way you were acting from the short time she was away. “Oh, it’s nothing. Sam’s just having a bit of trouble. You know men. Always something.” 

“Are you sure? It sounds serious.” Dean tried to get himself out of here before he could be pulled into the virtues of why keeping his virginity until marriage was for him. “Maybe we both should make sure he’s all right.” 

“That’s okay, honey. He just needs me to pop by the store and pick up some stuff.” You said. The look on Dean’s face was easy to tell he wasn’t buying your lie, despite how it was going to be all for him. He’d find out soon enough. “Thank you for everything, Suzy. I’ll see you at the next meeting.” 

Suzy seemed a bit upset at seeing you go so soon before she could properly go through some helpful techniques that you probably could've used. Dean tossed you daggers from leaving him here to spend God knows how long entertaining the consular. You gave him an adoring smile and waved goodbye to your boyfriend, figuring he would be thanking you for leaving him here after the surprise you had planned for him after he got back to the motel. 

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[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.

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

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[flamehairedwritings]

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: M

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the third day of my 7 Days of Valentine’s Drabbles, the 2021 edition!

This story contains swearing and two idiots in love.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

—

Blind Date/Set Up By Friends

“No.”

The word comes out of your mouth before you can even attempt to stop it.

“Shit,” he says in reply.

The couple at the table next to you glance up before quickly looking away, not wanting to be caught and embarrassed on their special night. You don’t care at all, though, because you’ve been set up on a blind date with Jim fucking Hopper.

The most irritating man in the entire universe.

The exact same thoughts seem to be running through his mind because his jaw is moving and he’s staring at you. Stood there in a fucking beige (is that linen?) suit with a Hawaiian shirt on underneath, hair combed, beard trimmed. And he’s staring at you like you’re the anomaly here.

I’m gonna kill Jodie.

Raising your eyebrows, your hands lift.

“Right. Well. There’s obviously been a mistake here.”

“You think?” His eyebrows are also rising, hands going to his hips.

Even though you despise him, that irks you.

“Okay, so, you can just go, then.” You sit back down, hands returning to the menu you’d dropped on the table in your sudden standing.

“Me?”

You glance up at him, his tone and indignation surprising you. “Yeah. Bye.”

Your eyes drop back to the menu, looking at it but not exactly reading because he’s not moving.

“Uh, and why me?”

I’m dealing with a fucking child.

Lips parting, you look up at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because it is.

“Because I was here first?”

Hopper snorts, arching an eyebrow. “What, you gonna eat on your own?”

“Yeah.”

Yeah, I’m going to eat on my own on Valentine’s Day and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Who even sets two people up on a date on Valentine’s Day?!

Before you can even think about looking at the menu again, Hopper scoffs.

“Well, I don’t want to go, you go.”

“No,” you shoot back incredulously, face twisting like you’ve tasted something sour.

He stares at you. And then he shrugs.

“Fine.”

Gripping the back of the chair opposite you, he pulls it back and sits in it.

“Oh my God,” you hiss, “Go and sit somewhere else.”

Adjusting his suit jacket, he then casts a hand around, gesturing at the restaurant. “Can’t you see it’s busy here? I’m not gonna find another seat.”

“Then go.”

“No.”

Then, he lifts up his menu and peruses it, a finger tapping against his lips. You just stare at him, feeling hot with frustration and irritation. Yes, you could just leave and buy something from the store on the way home and settle in for a cosy night, but you’d so been looking forward to a night out in a nice restaurant and some stimulating conversation from someone Jodie had said was perfect for you.

Perfect for you.

PERFECT FOR YOU.

That’s all you’d manage to get out of her about your date, apart from that it was on Valentine’s Day at Enzo’s and the employees there were aware of what kind of date it was.

You just can’t stop staring at him as he casually flicks through the menu while you quietly simmer with anger. This is why he gets under your skin so much; he’s just so stubborn. Exhaling a breath through your teeth, you force yourself to browse your own menu, even though you already know what you’re going to order. You’d arrived early, hating the idea of being flustered by trying to locate your date, and he’d... well, he’d arrived on time actually.

A pleasant surprise, but not enough to soothe your skin that prickles at the mere mention of him. Your friends and colleagues just laugh when the topic comes up.

Hop’? Hopper? The charming Chief of the town? Heart of gold underneath all that gruffness? Those big, strong arms and that flirty mouth? How could you not like him?

Well, you just... don’t. No reason. He’s not done anything to you, not said anything, you just... don’t. You can’t even really remember the first time you spoke to him when you moved here. Was it at a bar? The diner? You just remember the feeling when a friend had introduced you; prickly skin and a flipping stomach. His attitude towards you had left you feeling strange, too; you remember that he was blunt and eager to get away, barely looking you in the eye.

What an asshole.

... But, yeah, all right, maybe you had found him attractive, but then you’d seen him in bars picking up enthusiastically willing women left, right and centre and it had just... irked you, considerably.

Who does he think he is? I bet he thought whoever he was meeting tonight was going to be another one, that she’d be completely bowled over and was going to fall at his feet. Well, absolutely not, no thank you.

Every meeting you’ve had since, passing each other on the street, meeting each others gaze at the bar, having to converse in group conversations at parties, standing in line behind each other at the store, has been strained, with him either quickly looking away a little too late, so obviously not wanting to engage with you, or you just flat out ignoring him.

The waiter arrives with a smile which you return, somewhat forced, and if he’s noticed the more than slight tension at the table, he doesn’t let on at all. After he cheerfully takes your order, you then just have to sit and watch Hopper take his sweet time, one leg now balancing on the thick thigh of his other, menu in one large hand, talking to the waiter like he knows him, asking about what’s best and blah, blah, blah.

Crossing your arms, you stare at him, hoping the force of your gaze will somehow will him to hurry up. He glances at you once to just ask, “You want another bread basket?”

“Yes,” you grit out.

What kind of a question is that? Of course you do.

Snapping the menu shut, somehow the smooth motion of it just fuelling your irritation, he smiles at the waiter as he hands it back, and then the waiter leaves... and it’s just you two again.

You watch Hopper’s gaze travel the room, taking in all the laughing, chatting people, most if not all couples. He folds his own arms, the material of the suit stretching over his biceps, and you swiftly look away as his gaze reaches you.

“Guess Jodie’s a shit matchmaker, huh.”

Oh, God... You can’t just ignore him. Well, you can, but you imagine he’d just carry on talking anyway.

Taking a breath, which could be interpreted as exasperated, you nod. “Yeah. Didn’t even know you knew her.”

He shrugs. “We went to high school together.”

“Wow, she’s had to put up with you that long─”

“What is your problem with me?”

Your mouth remains open, your next word dying on your tongue as you stare at him. It stays open as you point at yourself, eyebrows shooting up, watching him just look at you, expressionless.

“Uh... What? You’re the one who has a problem with me.”

Now he frowns. “Excuse me?”

What.

Are you kidding me.

“Oh, don’t look so affronted, you always seem so irritated when I’m around and that you hope you don’t get stuck talking to me.”

He scoffs, but doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just makes half-laughing, half-astonished sounds. “... Me? I seem like that? You look at me like I’m the shit on your shoe!”

“If that’s true it’s only because of how you look at me.”

“And how do I look at you?” He says the words accusingly, challenging you, and it throws you for a moment because do his thoughts not influence his expressions?

It’s your turn to scoff as your eyebrows rise. “You... You look at me like...”

Nothing comes out of your mouth, every single encounter with him flashing through your mind, the filter of pre-conceived irritation and notions falling away.

Oh, no...

The times he’s looked away quickly after you’ve met his gaze... Not out of not wanting to engage but... not wanting to be caught looking. His curtness the few times you have spoken, not out of rudeness or wanting to get away, but because of awkwardness in your presence. The fact he’s sat down and has stayed.

Even the way he’d said ‘You think?’ minutes before... not said sarcastically, but stated. Asking you.

And he... he looks at you with tender eyes.

Oh my God...

Hopper shifts in his chair as he clears his throat, your thoughts and realisations most likely playing out across your features.

“... Uh...” Your mouth is still open, too, not knowing what to say.

I’ve been such an idiot.

He’s pushing his fork around on the table-cloth with his finger, waiting for whatever you’re going to say, probably expecting to be shot down or for you to laugh. Instead, you give him the truth.

“... I don’t have a problem with you, really... I just thought you had one with me.” Your voice comes out a lot quieter than you’d intended, but very much sheepish.

His head shakes as his jaw moves slightly, but there’s a light smile on his lips, and his gaze finally lifts to meet yours again; boldly and openly.

The tenderness is there.

“No. I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Okay.” The single word leaves you quietly, and something deep inside you relaxes.

“Do you want me to go?” he says, just as quiet as you had, and it’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

Licking your lips, you shake your head. “No. No, I’d... I’d like you stay. I think we should start this all over again.”

Hopper nods a few times, his smile lingering.

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

You find you’re smiling as well, your fingers lacing together in your lap.

“All right... What do you wanna talk about?”

—

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