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cosmicanakin · 8 months

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𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 ⟢ | hayden christensen.

⟣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. hayden christensen x female reader.

⟣ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your nerves are everywhere for your first big interview with hayden christensen himself, but things take an exciting turn when he asks for your number.

⟣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). fluff┆reader being a fan girl┆tattoos mentioned┆workplace romance┆anxiety nerves┆only fic using y/n.

kari's corner ⟢ ݁⋆ i've only ever written for hayden's characters but never for him 🙁 so here's a little hayden fic!

your heart races as you smooth down your skirt for what feels like the hundredth time, nerves wracking your body while pacing the length of the small room. today marked your first big interview covering the much anticipated release of ahsoka, and the lucky subject chosen was none other than hayden christensen himself.

ever since the prequels first captured your imagination as a young teen, you've harbored a hopeless crush on the actor behind anakin skywalker. his smoldering screen presence and talent at bringing such depth to a complex character left you wholly enamored, fueling artistic pursuits like drawing and even getting a tattoo tribute on your 18th birthday.

glancing down at the familiar lines inked below your left wrist, fingers tracing over them brought both comfort and fresh butterflies. would hayden appreciate the sentiment behind such a permanent mark of fandom, or find it odd and off-putting? you couldn't decide which terrified you more in that moment, the impending interview or potentially showing him such an intimate secret.

before anxiety could mount further, a light knock sounded at the door. "they're ready for you, y/n." with a final calming breath you nodded, steeling nerves as best able while trailing your guide down bustling halls. rounds of cameras and crew zipped to and fro in organized chaos, only serving to heighten your jittery state.

entering the room, bright lights and microphones came into view alongside your subject for the day. hayden sat relaxed in an armchair, striking features gently illuminated while conversing easily with staff. at your approach he glanced up, meeting your eyes with a warm smile that set butterflies aflutter once more.

"hayden, this is y/n l/n, she'll be conducting your interview today. make yourselves comfortable and we'll begin filming in 5." with that your guide slipped away, leaving you alone under his keen gaze that seemed to assess every minute detail.

stumbling through introductions you both settled into adjacent seats, closing the small distance between as a PA adjusted lighting and levels. "it's truly an honor hayden, i've been a huge fan of your work for so long. thank you for taking the time today."

he graced you with another genuous smile, one that made you feel like fire was blazing all over your body. "the pleasure is all mine y/n, i'm always happy to chat with fellow star wars enthusiasts."

you then launched into prepared questions relying heavily on note cards to steady shaking hands. hayden spoke eloquently of the joys in revisiting ahsoka and anakin's dynamic through animation, the creative challenges of lending voice without physical presence, as well as hints of where future stories may lead the beloved character.

absorbed in the discussion, you almost missed the lull signaling a natural break between topics. glancing down to reorder cards, hayden's eyes caught a glimpse of your inked tribute.

"is that...?" trailing off inquisitively, his gaze held yours in silent permission to explain. heart thundering in your ribs, you extended your arm stiffly for closer inspection with a sheepish smile.

"oh yeah, it's a little silly. but i got this on my 18th birthday as a sort of tribute to anakin. he's my favorite character in star wars thanks to you." chuckling nervously, you shrugged awaiting judgment on such a bold permanent choice.

instead, hayden gently cradled your wrist to examine lines tracing each curve with a focus that sent shivers through your veins. his thumb rubbed absent circles causing thoughts to short circuit, breath hitching slightly at the contact.

"not silly at all, i'm truly flattered. it's not often i come across such devoted fans, let alone marks of appreciation so meaningful. thank you for sharing this with me, it will certainly remain a treasured memory."

releasing your now flaming skin, hayden graced you with a look loaded with warmth that threatened composure. frantically you shifted topics back to the interview, desperate to regain threads of coherency spinning out of control under his gaze. thankfully he indulged without further comment, captivating the audience once more.

all too soon your allotted time came to an end, both of you graciously thanking one another while crew prepped for the next guest. hayden bid farewell with a lingering handshake, flashing one last smile that left you lightheaded long after exiting the stage.

leaning against the nearest wall, you attempted to regulate your breathing and pounding heart. had you truly just conducted that interview, seen that sweet genuine reaction to a silly fangirl choice that meant the world? pinching yourself proved no dreams, only solid reality awaiting further processing back at home with friends.

giddiness prevented focus for the remainder of promotional rounds, drifting through subsequent interviews on autopilot buzzing with endorphins. by late afternoon you found solace beside a refreshments table, quietly replaying treasured memories while nibbling on a giant cookie.

"y/n!" whirling at the call of your name, disbelief flooded as none other than hayden christensen hurriedly approached with a beaming smile. had he mistaken you for another, or somehow recalled you despite a packed schedule? politeness held your tongue awaiting clarification.

"i'm glad i caught you before leaving, this day has been a whirlwind. i hope i'm not being too forward, but i was wondering if i could maybe take you out for a drink sometime? get to know one another outside of work and such. only if you're interested of course."

heart ceased functioning at the implication, mind reeling to comprehend such an opportunity unfolding before your very eyes. hayden christensen, long-time crush and the subject of your teenage fantasies, was genuinely interested in you beyond surface-level small talk of the press circuit.

"i-i would love that hayden. um just give me a second," you said fumbling for your phone with shaky hands, exchanging numbers felt surreal akin to glimpsing behind intricate hollywood veils so seldom witnessed up close.

"wonderful, it's a date then. i'll text you later this week to discuss plans further. see you then y/n, take care." with a final radiant smile hayden turned on his heel, disappearing behind heavy doors towards whatever awaited beyond this magical day.

plopping onto a chair legs feeling like they might give out at any second, you simply stared bewildered at open phone grasped tightly in palm. had any of this truly happened, or had stress and fangirl aspirations finally sent imagination into overdrive? only time would tell where genuine connection may blossom if given proper chance to take root. for now, replaying treasured snapshots on a loop would have to suffice to quell your pounding heart until destiny worked her mysterious ways.

true to word, your phone lit up later that week with an unknown number. unlocking brought a message reading simply "hey, it's hayden. are you free saturday night?" giddy butterflies exploded anew seeing his name, fingers rushing to confirm eagerly while coordinating logistics.

#fairytales ✶ ݁. ˒#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars angst #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fluff #anakin angst #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen angst #hayden christensen x you

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deansdirtylittlesecretsblog · 7 years

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Raiders of the Lost Ark

Title: Raiders of the Lost Ark

Summary: Dean and Donna fluff.

Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Word Count: 1242

Warnings: explicit language, low self-esteem on Donna’s part

Author’s Notes: This was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Favorite Things Challenge. My prompt was Indiana Jones and my pairing was Dean and Donna. This might never have been written if it wasn’t for @climbthatmooselikeatree. Thank you, love.

“It’s one of my favorite movies,” Donna explained, the phone balanced between her shoulder and ear. “The Oakdale does it every year. Everybody dresses up, what do they call it, cosplay, and there’s prizes and food and the movie. I’ve always wanted to go , but I never have. I thought it might be fun.”

“Donna -” Dean sighed. “I don’t know. The hat, the whip, I think I’d look ridiculous.” She could hear the reluctance in his voice.

“You wouldn’t,” she mumbled. “But, if you don’t want to, I understand.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, thankful that he couldn’t see her face.

“Now you’re upset,” he murmured.

“No, no, I’m not,” she lied. “I’m fine.” She quickly changed the subject, drawing Dean into a conversation about the latest case he and Sam were working on. They stayed on the phone for another fifteen minutes until Donna made some excuse to go. She shut it off as soon as she hung up and shoved it in her purse.

Five minutes later she was in bed, the blankets pulled up over her head, her pillow cradled in her arms, praying for sleep. She scolded herself repeatedly; she shouldn’t have expected so much of Dean, after all he was busy, had a lot going on in his life. There was no reason for her to feel so hurt over something as silly as this. She’d get over it.

She’d get over it.

“I’ll get over it,” she sighed, the words like a mantra in her head, playing over and over, until she fell asleep.

Saturday was cold and rainy, miserable, like Donna’s mood. Late in the afternoon, she dragged her pillow and her favorite quilt downstairs and curled up on the couch, Raiders of the Lost Ark in the dvd player. If she couldn’t go to the movie in costume, she’d at least enjoy it at home.

She was sipping her third cup of coffee, burrowed under the blankets, when she heard the kitchen door open. She set her coffee on the table and eased out from beneath the blankets, judging the distance from where she stood, to her gun in its holster by the door.

“Donna!” the all too familiar voice called. “Where you at, gorgeous?”

Dean walked through the door between the kitchen and her living room. She started to giggle the second she saw him. He was wearing a brown fedora, light scruff dusting his cheeks, a white shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Coiled at his waist was a whip. He tipped his hat and winked at her.

“What are you doing?” she laughed.

“Taking you to see Raiders of the Lost Ark at the Oakdale,” he shrugged. “But first -” He held out a plain white box, a pink bow haphazardly tied around it. “Go on, open it.”

Donna took the box, set it on the coffee table, and kneeled in front of it. She slipped the bow off and slowly removed the lid.

“It’s beautiful,” she gasped, pulling the white gown free of the box. She rose to her feet, shook it out, and held it against her body. “It’s just like -”

“The dress that Marion chick wore in the first Indiana Jones movie,” Dean grinned. “What would Indy be without his Marion?”

Donna dropped the dress to the couch and threw herself into Dean’s arms. “You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered, peppering his face with kisses.

“Yeah, I did,” he shrugged. “I’m sorry I was an ass.” He leaned over her, his tongue dancing across her lips.

Donna rose up on her toes, pushing into the kiss, her breasts pressed against his chest, a sigh escaping her.

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured against her lips. “Go put the dress on or we’re gonna be late for the movie.”

She kissed him again, then grabbed the dress, and sprinted up the stairs.

Donna giggled, holding the hem of the dress in one hand and the small trophy they’d won in the other. Dean’s hand was on her waist, his lips on her neck, his attention divided between kissing her and unlocking her back door. Once he had it open, they fell inside, stumbling over each other. Donna twisted in his arms to wrap her herself around him as he pushed her backwards, kicking the door shut behind him, not stopping until she was pressed against the counter.

“How are you feeling, Miss Best Costume?” Dean smirked.

“Like a million bucks,” Donna laughed, throwing her head back.

Dean laughed with her, hugging her to his chest. “You look like a million bucks in this dress. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Dean,” she gasped, smacking him on the shoulder. “Language.”

“You’re blushing,” he teased, leaning into her, so close there wasn’t an inch of space between them. He twisted his fingers in her dress and dragged it up her leg, his fingers skimming over her skin. “I love it when you blush.”

A shiver raced through her and a moan fell from her lips. The things this man did to her with just a touch, it was insane. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“Thank you, Dean,” she whispered. “Tonight was, well, it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. You didn’t have to come all the way up here just for me, do all this for me.”

He dragged his fingers through her hair, holding her close, his lips against her temple. “I wanted to,” he said. “I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t. I was kind of a jerk on the phone.” He stepped back, tipping the hat at a rakish angle, peering at Donna from beneath the rim. “But, hey, I make a pretty good Indiana Jones.”

Donna nodded, gnawing at her lower lip as she stared at the man standing in front of her. God, he was gorgeous, beautiful, really, and sweet, always so worried about upsetting her, about hurting her feelings. And by some miracle of God, he wanted to be with her. She felt like she needed to pinch herself to make sure she was awake.

Dean pulled the whip from his belt, unfurled it, and cracked it against the floor. She jumped, a scream escaping her, a knot of anticipation twisting in her gut. Dean gestured for her to come closer, which she did, eyeing the whip warily. Once she was standing in front of him, he wrapped the whip around her shoulders and tugged her closer. He kissed her again, groaning a little in the back of his throat.

“I’m serious, you look unbelievable in this dress,” he growled. “But, it would look better on the floor.”

Donna pressed her face against his jacket, muffling the laughter bubbling out of her. She squealed when Dean scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. She pounded on his back, squirming and protesting as he made his way through the house and up the stairs. He didn’t stop until he reached her door, it was only then that he set her on her feet.

Donna walked backwards into the bedroom, tugging down the zipper of the dress as she walked, letting the gown fall to the floor, leaving her in only her white lace bra and panties. Dean lunged across the room, catching her once again in his strong grip.

“Told you it would look better on the floor,” he smirked.

Dean and Donna Tags: @mamapeterson @aprofoundbondwithdean @sweetmisseddreams2002 @katnharper @ultimatecin73 @thebunkerismyhome @deathswaywardson @chrisatplay @geekylibrarian24 @jessica-bones-winchester @winchesterswoonathon @for-the-love-of-dean @tonifish @nichelle-my-belle @torn-and-frayed @ksgeekgirl @missandmrsgalxy @prettyboydean @tia58 @nerdyplantbasednurse @madamelibrarian @icantthinkofaname-oops @bringmesomepie56 @waywardjoy @iwriteshortstuff @piratedaydreams @that1seniorchick @starswirlblitz @pizzarollpatrol @lazairahel @hidingfrommychildren @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @district12-erudite @castiel-angelofthelord @misswhizzy @deansdirtywhore @wonderless-screwup @downworlder--impala @superbluhoo2 @deandoesthingstome @jencharlan @feelmyroarrrr @okay-okay18 @spnbrennafae @rattyretro-blog-blog @ladyroche @climbthatmooselikeatree @rizlow1 @smoothdogsgirl @mischief-maker1 @winchesterprincessbride @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sckslife @sis-tafics @youwerelikeadream @i-dream-of-dean @oriona75 @writingbeautifulmen @meeshw777 @mrswhozeewhatsis @gemini75eeyore @vote-for-pedro @tom-is-in-my-tardis @percywinchester27 @atc74 @chelseafartnoise @missbeccamay @findingfitnessforme @tas898 @munroe-foster

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lilblueorchid · 3 years

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Thought process and easter egg on the Digimon Anniversary Illustration!

Hello everyone, today I feel like explaining some stuff over my Digimon Illustration, mostly why I drew thing this way or point out some little details and easter eggs you might have missed. ;)

Click on read more if you want a LENGTHLY explanation with a lot of rambling from me, or if not you can just enjoy the process gif. <3

The Digimon illustration was a special one for me for different reasons. Firstly, obviously, Digimon! It was a show I grew up with, and I find it quite fitting that after a tough year of graduation movie under a pandemic, in which I really experienced the pain of growing up, I ended up finding back Digimon.

Secondly, as a child, I remember spending HOURS looking for fanarts online! I would save all the ones I found pretty and keep them preciously, i still have the folders actually haha. While pursuing art, I always had in mind thatI wanted one day to make a fanart my child self would have gone crazy over! And, i think I achieved that with that one haha.

Anyway LET’S START! Shall we?

First off : the illustration process

When I do an illustration I always do a quick draft first, and most of the time, in colors. I think I’m more of a “color” person than a “line” person, I tend to need to see colors quickly in order to see if it’s ok.

For this one, I’ve always had in mind it would be a double illustration, with the older Tai’s silhouette acting as a frame for the children illustration. It was a bit tricky, I had to make the children illustration fit nicely into his silhouette, it was hassle around the neck area, that’s why I made little Taichi stand up haha. Also used Mimi’s hat to balance the picture : the bottom part is very heavy and there’s only sky in the upper part, adding the hat helps making it more balanced.

The character were the longest and the most challenging part by far. As you can see I had 3 different steps : super rough, they’re almost like stickmen and smiley face, a more detailled one in which I figure out their actual pose and anatomy, then a last one in which I fix some proportion, add details and clean. Fun fact I don’t clean over a new layer... i just erase the unwanted part of my sketch. :’D

I did a quick pass over the BG after that, then I colored the characters in flat colors before rendering them. It was a back and forth between the BG and the characters to make sure everything was working together nicely.

Now was the time to render the BG, I did the tramway first, the flower field after. Fun fact, I did my flower field study in order to know how to approach the flowers in this illustration! If your have the time, i totally recommend finding a photograph close to the kind of BG you wanna do, and make a study of it so you can try your hand at it first and go into your own BG later with an idea of how to approach this.

Adjust colors, add flower petals and butterflies and emotional text, slap over a paper texture, and THERE. You have it! On to the next part now...

The meaningful details and easter eggs

Be aware there will be spoilers for Digimon Adventure 01 (but I assume you already know it), but also for Digimon Adventure : Last evolution Kizuna, which is the conclusion of the first serie. So read at your own risk!

The tramway is obviously a reference to the end of Digimon Adventure 01. The kids used it to go back to their world, so It was their goodbye to their Digimon at this moment. In Kizuna, Tai and Matt find the tramway trapped in crystal in Menoa’s fake memory world. Hinting that had they been caught by her, their memories would have brought them back here.

Tailmon has Kari’s whistle! At the end of Digimon Adventure 01, Kari gives it to her as a memento.

When I drew Sora, I had in mind how she was in Kizuna, very stressed out by her mom’s expectation, which led her to neglect Piyomon. She realized it too late, and after that she refused to fight because she wanted to keep Piyomon with her as long as possible. Tragically, she was the first one to lose her Digimon. Here I tried to convey a softness and a kind of “I won’t forget to appreciate you” vibe in the way she holds Piyomon’s hand. As for Mimi and Palmon, in Digimon adventure 01 Palmon was very emotionally affected by Mimi’s departure, so, a hug was fitting. :’)

The screens on the Tramway display DA for Digimon Adventure, and also 01.08.1999 which is the date of the children’s journey’s beginning. :)

The little drawings also show the 8 crests.

There are butterflies flying over the illustration, it’s a reference to Butter-fly, the first Digimon opening, by the late Koji Wada.

"I'll become a happy butterfly, and ride on the glittering wind, I'll come and see you soon. “

Now, let’s the see the counterpart of the illustration. The one with the grown up Tai from Kizuna.

I made him wear the hoodie he had in his very last adventure with Agumon.... but truthfully the reason is that I think hoodies are cool lol. And the hood’s volume gave me more space in the silhouette, which made it easier for me to do the other illustration inside.

You don’t see it clearly, but he is holding his Digivice, albeit the darkened version once his partner bond with Agumon is broken. The Tai in this illustration has already lost Agumon. (Yes it was painful for me to go fetch the screenshots)

He is also holding his dear signature google he used to wear as a child. Fun fact, I rewatched the older movies, and as a kid he even used to sleep with it, how cute haha.

Also yes, the crest of Courage over his hand, which is his own. I’m so dumb I realize I should have made the time counter from the movie instead of the crest for a maximum emotional hurt impact.

And the quote is from one of the trailer for Kizuna, I think.....................

But then you go : Oh that illustration is so depressing then! Well. Yes. But no. but yes. But not really.

One of my favorite shot of the movie is this one : this is after Tai and Agumon learn their time together is limited. Agumon asks him if they will have to go separate ways once Tai is all grown up. Tai doesn’t answer, and takes him to eat something instead, as Agumon was hungry. In this shot Agumon eats to his heart content next to Tai, who’s not eating at all and just watches him fondly. I love that the framing doesnt show agumon. It’s a foreshadowing of their unavoidable separation.

At the very end of the movie, Tai write in his thesis about Human and Digimon’s relationship that Agumon was like a part of himself.

In a way, Agumon symbolizes childhood, the carefree days we would spend as a kid, with our big dreams and hopes. When you grow up, you tend to forget those simple emotions because you get swallowed into the stress of studies, figuring out your carreer, your life path. Just like us, Tai forgot this part of himself. In the madness of growing up, he lost Agumon.

However, it’s not the end. He will pick himself back up. He will move forward in life despite his worries and incertainities, and he will find himself again. Therefore, he will find Agumon again. The kids in the illustration are waving goodbye, but it’s not goodbye, it’s a see you later. In the meantime, Tai is holding on to these precious memories, until they meet again.

#Digimon #Digimon adventure #Yagami Taichi #Digimon adventure : last evolution kizuna #illustration process #kinda analysis #listen im actually writing this for myself #I spend 4 days on that illu with a lot of feels and I need to write them down #This is basically what my close friends have to endure each time I get an obsession

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dabilove27 · 2 years

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HEY CONGRATS RACH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU IN THIS MILESTONE YOU REACHED!!!

If it’s not already taken, I’d love to request #6 with Getou and angst with a happy ending♥️♥️♥️

KARI MY BEAUTIFUL LOVE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I am honored to write Getou for you! I hope you like it!

Link to the masterlist Thank you to my wife @lady-lunaaa and my sweet @gixxie for beta'ing and reading through! I adore you both!

Warnings: Pining, angst with a happy ending, somewhat canon-compliant

Pining. It was a word that Suguru was very familiar with. Pining to rid the world of non-sorcerers. Pining for a good world for his family to exist in. And pining to just be happy.

But one thing he never thought he would pine over is some he wasn't supposed to have. He never expected to have these feelings about you. You had been off limits since high school as a distant relative of his partner Gojo Satoru; it was well known that Gojo was protective over you.

Not because you were naïve or weak, nothing like that. In fact, you marveled Suguru with your strength and ability to fight. But Satoru thought of you as a younger sister (even though you were only a few months younger), which made you entirely, utterly off limits.

And so Suguru tried his hardest to ignore you. Ignore your beauty and witty attitude. To never focus too hard on you as you trained or notice how close you were when you sparred with him. Something about you continually called to him, never letting him go. But he had to ignore all these calls because it wouldn't be fair to Satoru, and he promised to stay clear of you.

Although Gojo would never admit it out loud, Suguru knew he wanted you to have a life outside of sorcery and curses. He wanted you to explore your dreams and desires, not be stuck here seeing the absolute worst of the world. And so that was why Suguru couldn't get involved with you because he was already trailing towards a path of darkness.

You were light personified with your beaming smile and upbeat personality. It wouldn't be fair to pull you into this cruel world with him just because Suguru liked you. But that still doesn't deter him from watching and interacting with you day in and day out.

But unfortunately, these interactions only pulled him closer to you; like a siren to a sailor, he couldn't resist you. Especially when you were kind to him, seeking him out after a challenging mission, offering him comforting words. Or the time when you learned his favorite food was Zaru Soba and made it for him for his birthday one year.

And he wanted to be with you so badly, throw all caution to the wind, and ask you out on a date. But he was so sickened that he couldn't have a future with you. It made every day around you harder. Because that pull to you never stopped screaming at him to bring you in his arms and kiss you. Suguru wished he knew if you felt the same way too, but he's sure Gojo would have his head if he even asked you anything along those lines.

But everything changed suddenly when things started going to shit. So many deaths piled up in Suguru's life, and he was reaching his breaking point. Things finally exploded when he was instructed to kill two young shamans. Looking at them in that cold metal cage ripped him apart, so he decided he couldn't do this anymore. But before he entirely ran away, he needed to tell you his feelings. It wouldn't matter anymore if Gojo hated him for it.

And so, in the dead of night, he found you in one of the gardens, a place you regularly visited when things were quiet. His footsteps were nearly silent, but you still turned to him as soon as he approached you. Your eyes were wide. News of his massacre already spread around, he's sure. But he can't take his eyes off you. Your silhouette is illuminated by the moonlight. You look absolutely ethereal.

"Suguru," you whisper quietly. But you didn't look scared like he thought you might; instead, you seemed serene, calm, almost as if you expected this.

He whispers your name back before taking another step, standing close enough to touch you now. "I need to tell you something before I go. I've had feelings for you for years now. I'm not coming back, but I couldn't leave without letting you know how I feel. I have to change this world," his voice quivered as he reached out to caress your cheek.

You didn’t shy away from him or cringe. Instead, you leaned into the warmth of his palm and placed your hand over his. "I know, I've always known. Is this goodbye then?" Your eyes were pleading as you stared into him like you could see the deepest part of his soul.

But something came over him at that moment, and even though there was a line they knew they shouldn't cross. They were already ready to jump over it.

"Run away with me," his voice was low, and he knew if he didn't kiss you at this moment, he would lose his chance. Before you responded, he tilted your face and pressed his lips against yours. It was deep and passionate, your lips soft but they sent electric shocks through his body. It was unlike anything he's ever experienced. And he knew at that moment that the two of you were made for each other.

The kiss broke too soon, and you nodded wordlessly, a confirmation of his earlier question. He didn't hesitate as he laced his hand with yours and bolted out of the academy.

Thank you for reading!

#suguru getou x reader #rach's 300 follower event #my writing

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madluluwriting · 2 years

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Five Fav Fics

Thank you for the tag! @yellowisharo challenged me to list my five favorite fics that I’ve written. I honestly didn’t realize before that I am now closer to 30 fic posted on Ao3 than 20. Damn...

Mesh bal kari is a Beauty & the Beast fusion AU with kesett. It is my favorite fic to write even though it’s a bit heavy on the angst. I’ve put a lot of thoughts in the worlbuilding and the writing style of this one.

The blood you bleed is just the blood you owe which is a jangobi OS I wrote for jangobi week with modern setting and first meeting. I like the light tone I managed to give this one and the fact that it is short and complete xD

Grief which is... Well the title is self-explanatory. It’s one of the first things I wrote for the space dads AU. It’s very personal in the sense that grief can be I suppose.

Put on your war paint because I am a big fan of Rebels and that Luke and Ahsoka in Space Dads are one of the relationships I love writing the most. Also because teenage crush Luke/Ezra? That’s my jam.

This prompt because OMG nb!Boba? kesett? I didn’t know I needed this in my life until I wrote it. It’s one of my fav prompt fill and I really want to explore this possibility more.

Honorable mention to the Atlantis Au that I haven’t started posting yet but I promise I’m working on it.

Tagging @damiemontclair and @ewinasden but no pressure!

#ask meme #kesett #Jangobi #My writing #fanfic #star wars #b&b au #atlantis AU #space dads extraordinaire

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webcricket · 7 years

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The Truth is Out There [on Netflix]

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Sam and Dean Winchester, Crowley

Word Count: 1600

A/N: One-shot written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Kari’s Favorite Things Challenge with prompt – The X-Files. Castiel searches for the truth of the human condition on Netflix…with a little help from his friends and a pair of fictional FBI agents who exemplify something it turns out he very much wants to believe. Off-beat humor and saccharine fluff.

The fateful day Sam instructed Castiel how to go about accessing Netflix was the day life in the bunker irrevocably changed. When not assisting with a case, the angel could reliably be found in his room binge watching yet another series, or two. You often tarried at the threshold of his ajar door on the way to bed to appreciate the television illuminated enraptured dopey smile glowing upon his normally austere features. Frequently you surrendered to the temptation to join him, swiftly drifting to sleep listening not to the television, but to his gentle laughter. He didn’t seem to mind the company, regularly and uncomplainingly obliging the use of his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when your drowsy head rolled sideways. Generally speaking, you were happy he found something to distract him from his myriad of woes and fill his long no-sleep-required angelic nights, not to mention the perfect pretext to spend more downtime with him without drawing unwanted notice and subsequent teasing from Sam and Dean.

The angel’s initial viewing preferences mostly leaned toward comedic sitcoms and classic slap-stick thanks to Dean’s belief that Cas needed to lighten up and a worldly anecdote about laughter being the best medicine. Innocent enough suggestions until Cas spent an entire week indicating every instance wherein a laugh track insertion would be appropriate in daily life. He even downloaded an app on his phone to further illustrate the point. Dean, the recipient of the lion’s share of this attention, was not amused. The last straw came when Cas stood by during a tense alleyway confrontation with their on-again off-again ally Crowley, pointing out with a gravelly there, there, and there again whenever the King of Hell made a particularly witty retort. Grasping his friend very firmly by the shoulder, Dean informed Cas, in no uncertain terms lest the angel not understand, exactly where he could hilariously shove his proverbial laugh track. Crowley never before, or again, regarded his angelic counterpart with such high esteem as he did during that meeting.

Sam had the brilliant idea of filling the angel’s watch queue to the brim with documentaries. Castiel, already a walking celestial encyclopedia of all-encompassing universal knowledge, day-by-day became swayed by one extreme opinion after another. First, it was the evils of sugar. The angel took it upon himself one evening to smite every last granule of the substance from the kitchen while you all slept, blissfully unaware there would be no morning breakfast cereal when you awoke or sweet crystalline delight to dump into your bitter coffee. You habituated to hiding in the bathroom with the shower running to mask the sound of contented chewing to enjoy your favorite cookies free from the angel’s icy blue disapproving glare. Dean began keeping pie in the Impala’s glovebox, by happy accident discovering apple pie stored in a car sitting in direct afternoon sun was nearly as delicious as one pulled piping hot from the oven. Sam walked around with a smug grin for a whole week, soaring mood squelched only when Cas sternly questioned him about the provenance of his salad greens. Were they genetically modified? Was he aware of the pesticides used in their production and their impact on the drastically dwindling bee population? The land destroyed in the manufacture of the palm oil listed as the fifth ingredient in his favored salad dressing? Was that salmon topping his heaping bowl of wrongs wild caught, or farmed?

Amidst threats by the thoroughly vexed parent-figure Winchesters to cancel Netflix altogether and a sulking Castiel dejectedly retreating to his room like a grounded teenager, you interceded, promising the brothers you would find something totally innocuous for the angel to watch. You weren’t giving up your late night snuggle fests, that conveniently no one thus far had identified as snuggling, without a fight. Netflix received a temporary stay of execution. Stifling a victorious squeal, cloaked in a mask of utter calm, you slunk from the library to apprise Cas of the good news, pace quickening to an enthusiastic scamper when you rounded the corner out of the brothers’ sight. Neither Sam nor Dean were fooled by the feigned disinterest of your demeanor – your amorous interest in the angel practically a flashing neon sign to everyone but the aforementioned oblivious angel. They exchanged a knowing glance, punctuated by Dean’s signature smirk and Sam’s husky laughter – the socially stumbling stoical seraph was your problem now.

“There is no such thing as little green men,” Cas said, narrowing his ocean blue eyes. Nearly five seasons into a marathon viewing of The X-Files, and the angel couldn’t get past the alien mythology behind the show.

As far as you were concerned, he was missing the whole point. “Ugh,” you grunted. Sat cross-legged side-by-side with the angel on the floor at the end of the bed, you flopped against the edge of the mattress, “you do realize you sound exactly like Dana Scully. How can you be so certain, oh skeptical one?”

“Because, there is no such creature in creation,” he stated matter-of-factly, expression earnest as he peered into your exasperated aspect, “I was there almost at the dawn, and I am fairly certain God didn’t create little green men before he created angels.”

“It’s a fictional world Cas,” you lamented, “it’s not about the aliens. Ever hear of suspension of disbelief for entertainment’s sake? Mulder wants desperately to believe there is a tangible explanation for his missing sister. It’s the great unknown of his life. Speculating gives him hope, something to hold on to, to chase. He’s broken, he has made mistakes, he’s doing the best he can in an imperfect world.” You realized after the last word lilted off your tongue that perhaps Mulder’s plight might hit a bit close to home for the angel.

“I understand,” Cas murmured, bobbing his scruffy chin thoughtfully, “then you value this show not for the accurateness of its subject matter, but for its depiction of the primary characters.”

“Yes, exactly!” you beamed. “And, you know, the complexity of their relationship.”

Cas squinted, his bewilderment palpably hanging in the air between you.

You suggestively waggled your eyebrows, “You know…the tension.”

“Ah,” Cas nodded comprehension, “you mean their continually dissenting opinions.”

“No Cas,” you shook your head, “I mean the sexual tension. Mulder and Scully are madly in love.”

The angel could not have appeared more gob-smacked than if you’d suddenly sprouted an additional big blinking eye in the center of your forehead.

“Look,” you snatched the remote, “I’ll just find a program more in your wheelhouse.” Clearly enjoying fantastic multi-layered character-driven sci-fi drama was off the scale of the angel’s emotional barometer and reading between the lines was not a skill he possessed with any degree of fluency. Maybe something in the realm of mystery like Murder She Wrote was a better option? Maybe a procedural cop drama a la N.Y.P.D. Blue?

Cas’ rough palm clasped over yours to prevent you from turning the episode off. “Please,” he entreated when you met his searching sapphire regard, “explain it to me. I want to understand.”

“O-okay,” you stuttered, focus dropping to his hand still holding yours.

He sheepishly withdrew the interloping appendage to rest in his lap.

“Um, it’s, uh,” you gaped, endeavoring to rally your thoughts beyond the lingering warmth of his touch tingling your fingers.

“I recognize they deeply respect one another,” the angel offered.

You nodded.

“And they would do anything to help one another,” he continued.

You kept nodding.

“And they make great personal and professional sacrifices to remain together as partners,” the tone of his voice rose, suggesting the waters of his perception here became muddied.

You looked to be exuberantly auditioning for the part of a life-sized bobble-head figurine.

“Yet they seem to me to be no more than friends,” he sighed, slouching against the bed in defeat of his own reasoning.

You reigned in your wildly bobbing noodle to articulate a reply, “For a long time they value their friendship too much to risk complicating it, but that doesn’t mean they love each other any less fiercely.”

“For a long time?” Cas lifted a brow askance.

“Spoiler warning,” you cautioned, “their relationship does become romantic, but as it turns out they were always much better friends. They each have a lot of baggage,” you paused, remembering to clarify so the angel didn’t think you were talking about literal luggage, “I mean, they bring a lot of pained history to the relationship, and it ultimately prevents them from being together that way.”

“And do they regret complicating their friendship with…with this romance?” Cas stared intently at you – oddly eager, in your estimation, for your answer.

You deliberated on your interpretation for a moment, taking into account the movies and the revival season in your verdict, “The way I see it?”

Cas nodded once, blue eyes glinting beneath an increasingly concentrated brow.

“No.”

Features relaxing, he sucked in a relieved, and for an angel, completely unnecessary breath.

“Why do you ask?” you motioned to set the remote on the floor between your bodies.

Cas caught up your hand in his again as you let the remote drop. Twining his fingers through yours, he waited for you to meet his openly adoring gaze before answering, “Because now seems like an appropriate time to tell you I value our friendship…very much.”

“I value our…oh,” your tongue seized, brain playing catch-up to the tender but insistent squeeze of his fingers. “Fiercely?” you whispered, agog.

“Fiercely,” he acknowledged. A soft smile curving his lips, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your astonished mouth.

#castiel x reader #kari's favorite things challenge #castiel x you #castiel fluff #castiel reader insert #spn fluff #spn reader insert #castiel imagine #castiel drabble #castiel #Castiel oneshot #castiel fanfic #cas x you #castiel x y/n #castielxreader #cas x reader #cricket writes cas

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caiotlyn · 7 years

Text

Sweet Gestures

Title: Sweet Gestures

Pairing: College AU - Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 1908

Warnings: one little curse word, mention of (fake) murder

A/N: This was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing‘s Favorite Things Challenge. My prompt was strawberry/apple pie. I have been binge-watching Criminal Minds lately, so here’s a super fluffy college AU with a little bit of fake profiling involved. :)

Feel free to check out the rest of my masterlist!!

~~~

Dean sat in the bustling coffee shop, sipping on the to-go cup and hurrying to finish his assignment before his first class started. Completely submersed in his textbooks, he was lost in his own little world of mock case files and write-ups. He paid no mind to the people around him–that is until a screaming match commenced at the cash register.

“What do you mean you’re out of apple pie? You opened not even an hour ago!”

“Miss, I’m sorry, but we only made enough for our usual morning rush. We just so happened to be busier than usual. And besides that, apple is our most popular flavor, so I’m not surprised we ran out,” the man at the register calmly explained, straining a smile at his flustered client.

“How long is it gonna be till you make more?”

“Uh, maybe another hour or so? I don’t know; I’m not the guy who makes all the food. I’m just the cashier.”

The woman didn’t respond. She simply crossed her arms tightly across her chest and looked up at the menu hanging above.

“Listen, lady. You’re holding up the line. Either pick something or leave.”

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll take a slice of strawberry pie and a coffee to-go.”

The cashier smiled while narrowing his eyes a bit. “Great. That’ll be $4.50. Can I have a name with that order?”

The woman responded with her name and quickly dug out a few bills from her bag. She handed them to the cashier and stepped to the side to wait for her food. She tapped her foot incessantly as her eyes roamed around the cafe. Her eyes met Dean’s, who was still watching her with interest, and she smiled politely at him. He returned it and ducked his head, suddenly remembering his assignment that was due in the next twenty minutes.

“Order for Y/N!” the barista called out.

The woman Dean made eye contact with moments before rushed up to the counter, taking the boxed slice of pie and her to-go cup before rushing out the door. She smiled at Dean once more and backed out of the shop.

Dean couldn’t help but smile to himself as he returned his attention to his homework once more. Something about the woman intrigued him, much more than the usual girls he picked up at bars and around campus.

His phone buzzed moments later, and his heart dropped as he read the message.

Cas: Dean, class starts in 5 minutes and you’re not here yet. Crowley’s gonna be pissed if you’re late again.

“Shit,” Dean muttered to himself. He scrambled to gather all of his things and shoved them into his backpack. He nearly forgot to grab his laptop in his haste, but he quickly managed to get his bearings in order before sprinting to campus.

~~~

Dean made it to class with seconds to spare.

“Cutting it close again, Mr. Winchester,” Crowley berated.

“I know, Professor. I’m sorry–again,” Dean apologized as he slid into a seat at the front of the lecture hall.

Crowley sighed and stalked to his desk, jotting something down in a notebook and returning to his instructions.

Dean sank in his chair and zoned out as Crowley droned on about the plans for the day, not noticing the girl from the coffee shop slip into the room fifteen minutes late.

~~~

The next day, Dean sat in the same place and the same coffee shop. And once again, the girl returned. She ordered the same thing she ordered before: a black coffee to-go (Dean noticed she added her own cream and sugar later) and a slice of apple pie.

And just like the day before, they were out.

The girl huffed in frustration. “Are you kidding me?”

The cashier, this time a girl with hot pink hair and a dozen piercings, rolled her eyes as if this dilemma happened every morning.

“Just change the pie to strawberry and call it a day.”

“$4.50,” the cashier replied flatly.

The girl, Y/N, Dean learned from hearing her order, threw a few crumpled bills onto the counter and stalked off to the corner to wait, mumbling a “keep the change” as she turned around.

Her name was called, and she rushed out of the shop, sending Dean a smile along the way.

~~~

For once, Dean was early to class, much to everyone’s surprise. With an almost empty lecture hall in front of him, he sat in the very back row, thankful he wasn’t forced to sit closest to Crowley’s unforgiving gaze like usual.

Dean remained silent for the entire thirty minutes before the class started, and he watched his classmates slowly trickle in, chattering with each other about the morning’s events.

“Hey, uh, can I sit here?” someone asked Dean, breaking him from his thoughts.

Dean looked up from his people-watching, and his eyes met those of the girl from the coffee shop. He noticed that her hair was thrown up into a messy bun on the top of her head, and she clutched colorful notebooks in her arms. A large bag was slung over her shoulder, and a coffee tumbler peeked out from the top.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, moving his things from the seat beside him.

“Thanks.” The girl smiled at him as she sat down.

“You’re Y/N, right?” Dean asked tentatively, remembering the barista calling out her name for the past couple of mornings.

“Yep, and you’re that cute guy from the coffee shop.”

“You think I’m cute?” He smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” Y/N replied. “Depends on who’s asking.”

Dean chuckled and twirled a pencil in his fingers. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

Y/N leaned closer to his face before continuing, “You kind of have a reputation in this class, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean laughed at her attempt at a British accent. He racked his brain for a witty response but came up empty, instead getting caught up in watching Y/N arrange her materials on the table. She pulled out her coffee tumbler and a plastic container, setting both of them on the desk next to her laptop.

“Ah,” Dean said when his eyes landed on the container. “The infamous strawberry pie that you almost fight the cashier for every morning.”

“Yes,” Y/N smiled and removed the wrapping from a plastic fork, “the strawberry pie.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence as the last of the students entered the lecture hall. Crowley said his opening remarks promptly at 9:15, everyone too distracted or bored to really be paying any attention to their professor.

“Winchester, Y/L/N!” Crowley called out, snapping everyone’s attention to the front. “Would you two care to give the profile from last night’s assignment?” He gave Dean a pointed look, prompting the student to speak.

“The, uh, the unsub is a white male, most likely in his mid to late 30s, and holds a steady job. Because of the shallow stab wounds and the blunt force head trauma to each of the victims, he most likely has a desk job of some sort or one that doesn’t involve a lot of manual labor,” Dean stated.

Crowley thought over Dean’s words and then pointed to Y/N with the end of his dry erase marker. “What do you have to add to that?”

Y/N shifted in her seat and rearranged her papers. “I actually disagree with Dean,” she said, earning a look from Dean, and Crowley raised his eyebrows.

“Well go on, then. We don’t have all day,” Crowley said.

“Right, sorry.” She shuffled her papers once more before continuing. “I actually think the unsub is a female, most likely a single mom. If you look at the school times in the area, you’ll notice that the start time for the elementary school near Lincoln is just minutes after the unsub dumps the body. All of the victims have been found in alleyways on the roads that lead to Montgomery Elementary. And the next person disappears approximately an hour to two hours after school ends. This gives the unsub time to pick her kid up from school, drop them off at home and make food or whatever, and then go hunt for her next victim. The shallow stab wounds and the head trauma aren’t because of a weak male. It’s because the unsub is a woman and needs to subdue her male victims before she can go for the kill.”

Everyone hummed in agreement while Crowley tapped his foot against the tile floor.

“That makes so much more sense,” Dean whispered before speaking up. “The abduction sites are all neat and organized, which means that the victims trusted the unsub enough to follow them. Men are more likely to trust a woman than another male. And then the way each victim’s arms are crossed over their chest at the dump site is out of remorse. Maybe the victims are all surrogates for her husband or former partner, who left her and her child, which would explain the overkill. She resents him for leaving her, but can’t hate him completely because he helped bring her kid into the world.”

“So that would mean that her husband is the final target,” Y/N finished off.

“Who knew you two would make such a wonderful team,” Crowley remarked. “That profile was right on target. I never thought I’d say this to you, Winchester, but I think you’ve chosen the correct career path.” Dean smiled and Y/N nudged his arm playfully. “And you did good too, Y/N.”

Crowley turned to the whiteboard and began talking about each crime scene photo. Y/N and Dean whispered and laughed with each other throughout the entire lesson, unbeknownst to their professor.

Y/N wasn’t surprised, to say the least, when Dean asked her to coffee after class.

~~~

Dean met Y/N at their usual coffee shop the following Saturday morning. They sat at Dean’s normal table in the back, two coffees and a container set before them. The pair talked for what seemed like hours over the simplest things, never staying quiet for more than a few minutes. For once, Dean didn’t feel the need to close himself off from Y/N. He talked as freely with her as he would with his own brother, and he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

There was something about the way that Y/N rambled on about her passions and random topics that made Dean feel like he was talking to an old friend.

“Okay, are you ever going to tell me what’s in the mysterious box?” Y/N playfully questioned and gestured to the container on the table.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Dean chuckled. “Go ahead and open it.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up as she reached for the box, untying the ribbon and quickly taking off the lid. She put her face in her hands when she saw what was inside, giggling uncontrollably.

“You’re such a dork, Dean,” she said as she removed the slice of apple pie from the cardboard container.

“You love me, and you know it,” he teased, leaning on his forearms.

Y/N pecked Dean lightly on his nose. “Not as much as I love this pie.”

“A girl after my own heart,” Dean beamed. “Now shut up and let me have some of that pie.”

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iwantthedean · 7 years

Text

The Spark Next Door

Thanks to @jayankles for the graphic!

Summary: There’s always been a spark between you and the guy next door; when life takes a rough turn, things between you accelerate. Pairing: Jensen x Reader Word Count: 4450 (without lyrics) Warnings: Trigger warning: Short assault scene; language, drinking. Mostly fluff-type stuff, despite the warnings. Challenge: Kari’s Favorites Challenge with the trope of “Neighbors AU” and Bronwyn’s Double Birthday Challenge where my prompt was Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift. (I can’t be the only one who thinks of certain green eyes when you hear that song!) @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @jpadjackles

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“Let me guess - you need me to kill a spider?”

“That was one time, Ackles, and that spider was huge!”

Your neighbor flashed you an adorable smile, and you managed to keep the blush off your cheeks this time. His smile always reached his to-die-for green eyes, making you go weak at the knees. Jensen was nearly eight years your senior, the owner of a very successful brewery in town, and, even with the banter that had begun when you moved into the house next door after your grandmother passed away, you knew there was nothing more than friendship between the two of you.

With a soft laugh that made your stomach flip, he stepped out onto the porch and asked what he could help you with.

“My friend Kari brought her car over -- needed the oil changed and whatnot. I'm trying to change out the oil filter now, but it won't budge.”

Kari was leaning against the hood of the car, but straightened up quick when she saw you coming back to the driveway with Jensen.

“Hi, I'm Kari,” she introduced. You envied her confidence sometimes; it had taken Jensen coming to offer help to you and your brother on move-in day for you to even think about approaching him. “Thanks for coming to help.”

“Jensen, nice to meet you. Happy to help.”

He took the oil filter wrench from you and got to work. You and Kari sat on the porch while he worked, talking about hair and makeup, and before you knew it, the tune up job was done.

“You didn't have to finish the job,” you said, “I really appreciate that!”

“Not a problem, sunshine,” Jensen assured, wiping the sweat from his face with a greasy rag. “Anytime. How'd you get roped into doing this anyway?”

Before you could answer, Kari interjected. “She’s got a hot date tonight, and I told her I would help her get ready if she would help fix up my car. It pays to have a friend whose dad and brothers taught her a thing or two.”

Your friend headed inside then, and you walked Jensen back over to his house. He asked about your date, and you told him about the guy from work you’d had your eye on for a while.

“He finally noticed me, I guess,” you shrugged. “I'm trying not to get my hopes up about it too much. I'm a hopeless romantic, and my head runs away with my heart sometimes. Or is it the other way around? Well, whatever it is -- just keeping things low-key tonight.”

Jensen agreed that was a good plan. “Just make sure he treats you right, Y/N.”

“I'm sure he will,” you assured. “Thanks again for your help with the car!”

“No problem. I'll be at the brewery tonight. Bring Mr. Wonderful in, I'll get you guys a round on the house.”

With a thank you and a playful wink in Jensen’s direction, you headed back to your place to shower and get ready for your date.

Bryan was handsome, tall, successful -- and apparently was well aware of the fact. Once the two of you got to dinner, he was no longer the nice guy from work you chatted and joked with every now and then. He was down right full of himself, and you couldn't wait for dinner and the movie to be over so you could get home and never think about him again.

He had other plans, apparently. Once the two of you got back in his car, he immediately leaned over the console and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was rough and sloppy, and not a gesture you wanted to be a part of in the first place. The whole night was turning out to be a disappointment, but now you were borderline disgusted.

“Look, I just want to go home, all right?” you told Bryan when you were finally able to push him away.

He snorted. “Oh, please. The other girls have told me how hot you've been for me. This is your only chance, Y/N. Sure you want to pass on it?”

Who the hell did he think he was? God’s gift, clearly. With a roll of your eyes, you got out of the car. You didn't need him. You could call a friend or one of your brothers or even a cab to get home.

You were just a few feet down the sidewalk when Bryan caught up to you and gripped your arm so tightly, you yelped. Of course, the two of you were parked so far out in the lot, there was no one around to help you. You'd have to make a break for it if he was going to be this crazy.

“Let me go!” you demanded.

Bryan squeezed tighter. “You're nothing special, you know that? Girls like you are a dime a dozen. But if you think I'm gonna let you go back to work and tell them anything about tonight, you've got another thing coming.”

“I don't want to tell anyone anything, I just want to go home!”

“After you give me what I took you out to get.”

He started to drag you back towards the car, but you dug your heels in and refused to move your feet. Bryan’s open hand came down hard across your face, shocking you momentarily, until you saw red. He was facing you now, and one hard, swift kick to the family jewels loosed his hold on you and brought Bryan to the ground, writhing in pain.

Your cheek stung like a bitch, and your feet was sore by the time you walked the five blocks to Jensen’s brewery. Constantly looking over your shoulder, expecting Bryan to be right behind you at any moment, got you to your destination in record time.

It would have been easier, you supposed, to go back into the theater and call a friend or your brothers or a cab. Your brothers would have gone to jail after hunting Bryan down, though, and any of your friends would have made it into far more drama than you wanted to deal with just then. That left the cab, but you didn't want to go home and be alone, either.

So here you were, standing at the bar of the brewery with bruises forming on your arm and face. Tear stains formed streaks from your eyes to your jaw. You found an open spot at the corner of the bar against the wall; you didn't see Jensen immediately, so you sent him a text. If he didn't answer in a few minutes, you'd ask someone to track him down for you.

Are you still at work? I'm sitting at the bar.

You wanted to somehow warn him of your current state, but you didn't know how to word it. A minute after you sent the text, Jensen appeared from the back. He spotted you instantly. His smile turned to a look of concern, and he made a beeline for where you were sitting.

“What the hell happened?” Jensen asked, his voice laced with the same concern in his expression, plus a touch of anger.

Your chin quivered and your eyes watered all over again. Being here, with someone familiar, was the relief of safety; for that reason, you couldn't stop yourself from crying. Jensen took your hand and told you to follow him to the back. He led you to his office, sat you in his comfy desk chair, and told you he would be right back.

By the time Jensen returned, you had composed yourself. He handed you an opened bottle of your favorite beer, then carefully set an ice pack against your face.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Jensen asked, this time much more calm than his initial inquiry.

You bit your bottom lip. “Mr. Wonderful turned out to be Mr. Not-So-Wonderful.”

Jensen nodded as though he had figured as much. “Just your face?”

“He slapped my face,” you explained. “And he grabbed my arm.”

Jensen gently rolled up your sleeve to inspect your arm. It was already bruising, but there wasn't much ice could do for you there. At least on your face, it kept the swelling down.

“What do you wanna do?” Jensen asked.

“I just want to go home, but I don't want to be alone. And I don't want to make a crazy big deal out of this.”

Jensen caressed the uninjured side of your face before leaning back on the desk. He must have been considering whether or not to go with what you wanted, or make you call the police.

“All right. Stay here. Give me ten minutes, then I'll take you home.”

You nodded and kept the ice on your face. The stinging had turned to a burn, so the ice was soothing. It had started to melt and you were dropping the bag into the trash can when Jensen returned.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Had to rearrange some things.”

You were suddenly self-conscious. “Jensen, you didn't have to do that for me …”

“I did,” he replied quickly. “I mean, you're my friend and you came to me for help. C’mon, sunshine. Let’s get you home.”

As you followed Jensen out to his truck, you thought about what he had said. It had never occurred to you that the two of you were more than neighbors and acquaintances, but Jensen saying the two of you were friends certainly made you feel less regretful about going to him for help. That didn't mean, of course, that you didn't try to explain yourself the moment you were seated in the passenger seat.

“It’s just that my brothers would have been way pissed, and Kari would have made it a bigger deal than it needed to be. I just wanted to go home and be safe.”

“I can understand that. We’ll handle this your way, but for the record, that doesn't mean this isn't a big deal or that I'm not pissed. You don't deserve to be treated that way -- nobody does.”

The rest of the ride home was silent. Jensen parked his truck in his driveway, then asked for your house key.

“I'll go in first. Can't be too careful.”

You had no problem with that. Never in your life had you been treated the way Bryan had treated you, and it scared you shitless, quite frankly. Having Jensen there was a welcome comfort.

“I think you're good,” he said, handing back the key. You placed it in your purse, which you went to put in your room.

When you came back, Jensen was still standing near the doorway, looking somewhat nervous. You cleared your throat.

“I don't think I'll sleep tonight. Have you eaten? I'll cook for you,” you offered.

“I ate.” He finally pulled his hands from his pocket. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable with what you've been through tonight, but I don't really want you to be alone. Somehow next door doesn't seem close enough.” He chuckled, nervously. “If you want me to crash on the couch or stay up with you, I will. Or we can go to my place. Whatever will make you feel safe.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “I wasn't sure how to bring that up, so thanks for doing it for me. I'm gonna take a shower, then maybe we can watch a movie or something?”

Jensen nodded. “Sounds good.”

You disappeared into the bathroom with your favorite fluffy towel, and started the water as hot as you could stand it. You cried a little again, just from the emotions of what had happened, when washing your tender face brought everything rushing back as though it had happened just a few minutes ago, and not an hour or so. You wrapped up your shower pretty quick, dressed in sweats and a tank top, and went back out to the living room.

Jensen was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. He looked up at you and smiled. “Feeling a little better?”

“A little,” you nodded. “You changed?”

“Yeah, ran home real quick while you showered. Grabbed a six pack of locals, too.”

You smirked when he handed you a longneck of beer from his brewery. It was pretty delicious, so you took a good long drink after that initial sip to taste.

You answered Kari’s text message about how the date had went while Jensen debated between a couple of funny movies for the two of you to watch. You kept your answer relatively vague, but promised to tell her the whole story at work the next day.

Thanks to half the six-pack and the shock wearing off, you were asleep before the movie was over. Without realizing it, you dozed off against Jensen’s shoulder. He covered you with the comforter you had dragged out from your bedroom, switched from the DVD player to the TV, and fell asleep with an arm around placed protectively around you.

When the two of you woke the next morning, stretched out on the couch together, your cheek against Jensen’s chest, you were only a little embarrassed. A potentially anxiety-and-paranoia-filled night had turned into a quiet, comforting evening. You got up and made a pot of coffee before dressing for work. As you got ready, you were quiet as you could be so you didn't wake Jensen until you needed to leave.

“Hey,” you said softly, sitting next to him. “I'm leaving for work. You can stay as long as you want, just lock the door on your way out.”

Jensen nodded and made you promise to be careful before falling asleep again. It was strange in a very pleasant way to leave a man you didn't know extremely well but felt so safe and familiar with asleep on your couch.

When you got to work and told Kari the whole story, she made about as big of a deal out of it as you expected, but you quickly shushed her.

“I don't want a lot of people to know, all right? I'm not embarrassed I just -- I don't want to talk about it. And other people are liable to talk anyway.”

Kari didn't like it, but she promised to keep quiet. Your workday went on as usual, until Bryan found you sometime after lunch.

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted, as though nothing had happened. “I really enjoyed last night.”

You rolled your eyes and otherwise ignored him. He made himself comfortable; you used all of your willpower not to make eye contact. Your heart was racing. Not even twenty-four hours ago, this same smiling, pleasant man had slapped you across the face and would have likely done far worse if you hadn't gotten away.

“I will have you, you know,” Bryan said, leaning forward so that anyone passing by wouldn't be able to hear him. “I always get what I want. I'm sure you still want me -- no one lets go that easily.”

Thanks God for Kari, who had been checking on you periodically throughout the day as it was. She frowned when she saw Bryan talking to you, but the moment he spotted her, he simply winked at you and left.

“What was that about?” Kari asked.

Attempting not to have a panic attack, you went ahead and told her what Bryan had said.

“You can't keep on with this, Y/N,” she said sternly. “Sounds like last night was just the start. If he isn't taking a kick to the junk as a hint, Lord knows what he is capable of.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “I know.”

“Please, at least go talk to the boss. Get yourself or Bryan re-assigned so you don't have to see him.”

You hated the idea of being a victim -- that was part of the humiliation of all of this. Kari was right though. With her encouragement, you went right to the boss’s office and spilled the whole story.

Your boss sighed. “I'm sympathetic with you, Y/N, really. Unfortunately, as the incident happened away from company property, our policy is not to get involved.”

“You're kidding?!”

She leaned forward on her desk. “Without a restraining order of some kind, my hands are tied.”

You nodded, feeling full confidence for the first time that day. “Fine. Then I am officially handing in my resignation. I'm sorry, but I can't work in an unsafe environment.”

She didn't bother calling you back to her office or anything; for that reason, you were even more comfortable with your decision. Another job would come along and until then, well, you would figure things out.

You weren't going to be a victim of this thing that had happened to you.

Kari offered to cancel her date that night to hang out with you, but you assured her you would be fine. It was clearly all for the best, and you had some things to figure out, anyway.

It didn't help that the easiest distraction from your problems was your neighbor’s green eyes and devastating smile. When you thought about the way he had cared for you the night before, how protective he had been, you got butterflies in your stomach. The idea embarrassed you only a little; surely he wasn't into younger women. Whatever had gone on last night had been because you were friends, like Jensen said.

That didn't stop you from putting on your most casually adorable outfit and driving over to the brewery. Jensen had texted you earlier in the day that he would be working the bar if you needed anything, and that planted the seed in your mind. Even if you didn't expect anything to happen, it wouldn't hurt to have a couple drinks while you ogled your crush. You know, to cheer yourself up.

The smile he gave you when you took a seat at the bar erupted even more butterflies in your stomach. You gave a little wave and smiled bigger when he came over to see you.

“Your face looks better,” Jensen commented.

“Wow, thanks,” you teased him.

Jensen laughed. “You know what I mean. What'll be?”

“Same we had last night, please. I really liked that.”

“Ah, my favorite.” He filled a pint glass and set it in front of you. “Not too much. You've got to work in the morning.”

You shook your head as you drank down a good portion of the beer. “I quit.”

Jensen’s eyes went wide, but you explained about Bryan’s remarks and your boss’s reaction. When you were done telling the whole thing, he said he was proud of you.

“I'm glad you stood up for yourself.”

“Even if your friend is an unemployed loser now?” you snorted. It had been meant as a joke, but fell just shy of humor.

Jensen chucked you under the chin. “You're not a loser, Y/N. I don't care that you're unemployed, but if you want, you can work here for a while, till you find something else.”

“Jensen, you don't have to do that. You've helped me enough -- more than enough.”

He shook his head. “I told you when you moved in next door that I was here to help with whatever you need, and I meant that. Now, you've already been drinking so you can't start tonight. How about Monday?”

You could have hugged him across the counter, you were so excited. You agreed to meet him there Monday morning to get started.

“I find it interesting that he is so quick to help you all of the sudden,” Kari commented when she came over the next day. “Like after he found out you were dating someone.”

“I wasn't dating someone, I went on a date with somebody and it turned out awful,” you corrected.

Kari rolled her eyes. “Not the point, Y/N/N.”

“Your point is invalid. Jensen had helped with a lot of things since I moved in.”

Kari nodded. “How many times before all of this did you two fall asleep on your couch together before all of this?”

You didn't want to answer her. You knew what she was getting at, but if you allowed yourself to go there, even just in your mind, you were setting yourself up for disappointment. Just like that hadn't stopped you from dressing cute and going to the brewery to see him when you needed cheering up, it didn't stop you from dressing to impress to meet him Monday morning, either,

After giving you a full tour of the place, Jensen went through the office duties that would now be your responsibility. You had expected to be waiting tables or washing dishes; Jensen warned you there would be some of that but mostly you would be working as his office manager.

You sat on the counter of the bar while he put away glasses, teasing him about taking advantage of the new help, when he looked at you with an expression that fell somewhere between amused and curious.

“What if I did take advantage?” he asked.

Your smile quickly faded. “Seriously? Of me?”

Jensen set down the glass in his and moved closer to where you were sitting. He settled himself between your knees; you weren’t offended but … well, you weren’t exactly sure what you were feeling at that moment.

“I mean, not really take advantage of course,” Jensen clarified. That wasn’t something you were worried about, but you appreciated the effort. His fingers pushed your hair behind your ear. “But I was already thinking about you probably way more than I should. Then everything went down with that guy, and you came to me. It got me thinking about more things I probably shouldn’t be thinking about.”

The uncertainty fell away and you knew exactly what you felt and exactly what you wanted. When Jensen’s hand carded into your hair before gently guiding your mouth towards his, a daydream you had indulged in time and time again became a reality.

When Jensen parted from you, he did so slowly; somehow, he must have known that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself upright immediately after he broke that perfect kiss. A million things were running through your head. When you were able to form a coherent sentence again, you decided to just be honest with him.

“A few days ago, I had a date with a guy I’ve ha d my eye on for a while. It didn’t turn out so well.”

“I know,” he said softly, not moving from where he stood. His hands ran up and down your thighs, and the movement sent shivers up and down your spine.

Deep breath. “I’ve had a thing for you since I met you pretty much. With you being older than me, and my neighbor who helped me every now and then, I never expected anything to come of it. Then all of that happened, and now we’re sleeping on couches together and you’re telling me things and we’re kissing on your bar.”

“I know,” Jensen said again.

“Say something besides ‘I know’.”

He kissed you, a soft, chaste peck this time. “I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I know it didn’t work out for you so well last time, getting the guy you wanted. But I want you too, Y/N. I want to get to know you better and be your best friend and take care of you. Maybe though, we can start with dinner tomorrow night? You know, a proper one. Kari can come over to help you get ready, I’ll put on some expensive cologne. That kind of thing.”

“I’d like that,” you said with a light laugh. “Thank you for understanding.”

Jensen nodded and helped you off the bar. “I’ve got you, sunshine.”

Monday and Tuesday were usually the days the brewery was closed, so that everyone could recover from the weekend. You and Jensen had gone in the day before so he could finish up the paperwork from the weekend and show you how things worked. With all of your nerves over your date that night, you appreciated that you had the day off.

With all of that nervous energy, you decided it would be a good day to deep clean the house before you had to get ready to go out with Jensen later that night. You opened the windows and let the early summer breeze air out the place.

Always careful about bothering the neighbors, you had your music quietly playing as you moved about the house. A lawn mower revved up outside in the early afternoon, so you turned up the volume on your music.

You were in a pair of jean cutoffs and a thin, loose tank top. No shoes on your feet, and your hair in a messy bun on your head. You’d washed your face that morning, but the glow of the sweat build-up from working in the house had added a sheen to your exposed skin.

Drop everything now Meet me in the pouring rain Kiss me on the sidewalk Take away the pain ‘Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile Get me with those green eyes, baby As the lights go down Gimme something that’ll haunt me whenever you’re not around ‘Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile

You didn’t care one bit about that when one of your guilty pleasure songs came on and you immediately thought of Jensen.

It didn’t matter that you were a mess or that you were going to see him later. You had something to tell Jensen, and you needed to tell him now.

You jogged out the front door, the screen slamming behind you. You looked over towards Jensen’s house and saw that he was the one mowing. He was shirtless, sweat dripping down his face and chest, and that only made your heart quicken. Summoning up the courage, you stood in front of the mower.

Jensen came to an abrupt stop and took the headphones from his ears. “Y/N, you all right?”

You nodded. “I know this must sound crazy, but I couldn’t wait until tonight to tell you. I want to get to know you better and be your best friend and take care of you, too. I don’t want to do this slow dating thing. I want us to do this, for real.”

He stood to the side of the mower. “You sure?”

“As sure as I’ve ever been of anything. I’ve spent way too long just being the girl next door. I want to be your girl.”

Jensen grinned. The connection between the two of you became magnetic; you met in the middle of the distance between you. Jensen pulled you up into his arms, and your legs wrapped around his hips. You pressed your mouth hard against Jensen’s, but forming that pucker to kiss him was difficult.

All you could do in that moment was smile.

#supernatural #fanfiction #kari's favorite things challenge #jpadjakles double birthday challenge #jensen #jensen ackles #reader #reader insert #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #au #jensen au #jensen ackles au #iwantthedeanupdates #iwantthedean's tag team #all my lovelies

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 years

Text

Dean’s Flannel

Summary: Flannel is a standard in the hunting world but it slowly becomes something more for Dean and the reader...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: Written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ‘s Favorite Things Challenge. My prompt was “Flannel”...

No one told you hunters had a dress code when you started out. There wasn’t an official one but almost all had the same look. A pair of boots that were sturdy to kick some ass in and a jacket that wasn’t too warm or too cold with plenty of pockets were standard. But no one told you just how many pairs of flannel shirts you’d come to own.

Staring at your closet in the bunker you counted twelve. Fucking twelve pairs of flannels. Every single one was different.

“Y/N, you coming to pick up dinner with me or no?” asked Dean, standing in the doorway of your room. “Just pick one sweetheart.”

“You put yours in with mine so I had to reorganize them,” you said, sliding open the other side to show his gajillion pairs of flannels off.

“Just pick one so we can go. They’re all the same,” he said.

“Fine,” you said, grabbing a red one and throwing it on. You were busy rolling up the sleeves while Dean gawked. “What?”

“That’s mine,” he said.

“You did say they’re all the same, Dean,” you said. Dean scowled but you knew he loved it when you wore his shirts. “Try not to get a hard on in the car.”

“Wear a coat and I won’t,” he said as you stepped past him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” you teased, walking away. “Come on, pizza’ll get cold if we don’t go soon.”

“You’re running in to grab it,” he said, following after.

Dean had contained himself during the evening but the second you were in your room, he pounced.

“Sorry babe, not in the mood tonight,” you said, even if you were very much in the mood. He rolled his eyes and tugged on his shirt.

“I’ll do that thing you like, the ‘I do what you tell me’ thing,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I appreciate the offer, the one that you fucking adore to have done to you by the way,” you said, Dean smiling shyly for a second. “I’m just not feeling it.”

“Okay,” said Dean. “Another time then.”

The next morning you walked into the kitchen with a yawn, stretching as Dean fucking whimpered at the sight of you.

“Y/N, you’re killing me here,” said Dean. You looked down at yourself wearing his blue flannel, the fabric hitting you mid-thigh, showing off the perfect amount of skin. Good thing he didn’t know that was the only thing you had on.

“I always walk around like this when Sam is off doing his own thing,” you said.

“It was bad enough with the tees but you had to move up to my fucking flannels?” he whined, putting a plate of food in front of you.

“If I’d known you’d be this desperate I would have done it ages ago,” you said with a dark smile.

“No, you are not going to wear them all week are you?” he asked, Sam not back for another ten or so days.

“Would you mind if I did?” you asked.

“Fuck no,” he said without missing a beat.

“Well, that settles that then,” you said. “I’m doing some chores this morning if you want to watch a movie this afternoon?”

“Y-Yeah, sounds good,” said Dean, sighing happily to himself as you ate together.

At four days into your little game of wearing Dean’s flannels and a crap ton of sex, you started to feel different about them. Yes, they’d always been the hottest fucking thing on this planet to you. Dean just looked like perfection to you when he had them on. You were pretty damn sure he felt the same when you wore them.

But today you weren’t feeling horny as you snuggled into Dean while you watched Netflix. Dean certainly noticed the shift in you and started stroking your arm.

“What’s up pretty girl? You’re thinking about something,” he said softly.

“I feel safe,” you said, glancing up at him to catch his smile.

“I’m glad. Do you not normally?” he asked. You shook your head, unsure of how to describe this.

“Your shirts...they make me feel safe,” you said. “Like it’s you kind of. You’re always there, wrapping yourself around me.”

“I like when you wear them. I can either make you give them back which always leads to fun...or I can know that you feel that way, even if I’m not by your side,” said Dean. “You feel like mine.”

“I am yours,” you said, Dean’s chuckling rumbling through you.

“I know. I wish you could just know what it’s like though. I don’t fit in your flannels,” he said.

He was right, he didn’t. But you had an idea of how to make that work.

It was two days later when you were wearing a flannel that Dean raised an eyebrow at but dismissed. It certainly looked like one of his but this one was brand new. You wore it that day and through the night, letting Dean know you like this one in particular.

“Hey boy,” you said, hopping into your room after doing the laundry, holding a box behind your back. “I got you a present.”

“Oh well come in then,” he said with a laugh. “You’re excited.”

“I hope you like it,” you said, handing him the box as he sat up in bed. It took no time for him to unravel the bow and reveal the flannel and note on top.

Now I can know.

Dean unfolded it and you saw him recognize the same colors and pattern. He smiled and took off the one he had on, pulling this one around him as he rolled up the sleeves. He smiled something different when it was on, something that ran straight to your heart.

“I love it,” he said. “It’s my favorite one.”

“Oh, that one is mine. You can borrow it when you like though,” you said, shooting Dean a teasing smile.

“Yours,” he muttered under his breath, trying to keep his smile from growing too large.

“Come on, I want to take you out and show you off in my shirt,” you said, Dean nodding.

“I can get behind that,” he said.

At some point you stopped organizing the flannels in your closet. Some of Dean’s were on your side, some of yours on his. Occasionally you wore his out and about but Dean always made sure the one you got him stayed on your side so he knew. It was yours and so was he. Sometimes after bad days you’d catch him changing into it for no real reason.

He’d been gone on a hunt with Sam for a few days when he came home to find a box on your bed again.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“I got you a present,” you said, watching Dean open it up to find a green flannel inside, not one of his.

“Can I borrow your shirt, sweetheart? The one I got on is kind of gross,” said Dean, giving you a smirk.

“Of course,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, but first...” he said, going to his duffel and pulling out a bag. “I got you a present.” You untied it to reveal an also green flannel for your size. “Just had a feeling you might want a new one.”

“It matches yours,” you said with a laugh, holding it up.

“Great minds think a like,” he said, wrapping you up in a hug. No matter how good the flannels felt though, nothing beat the real thing. “Every Winchester needs an unnecessary amount of flannel.”

“Thirteen for me, a ton for you...think we’ve got an unnecessary amount yet?” you teased, nodding over at your closet. Dean looked down over your shoulder and shook his head.

“Nope, definitely not. Guess we’ll just have to get us some more sweetheart,” said Dean, smiling against you as he kissed your cheek.

“Good because you and flannel? You’re two of my favorite things.”

@anokhi07 @xxwinchester-22xx @charliebradbury1104 @everyday-supernatural-af @squirels-angels-and-moose @youwerelikeadream @drugpug@darkx143 @kristaparadowski @tom-is-in-my-tardis @tanithlowisabamf @smoothdogsgirl @dancingalone21 @ktrivia @demonic-meatball @oaisara @feelmyroarrrr @cojootromuelle @gallifreyansass@fangirl1802 @itstheprincess @casgetoutofmydiddlydarnass @mogaruke@secretlyfurrydragon @perpetualabsurdity @ria132love @heycassbutt-67 @aingealcethlenn @docharleythegeekqueen @missmotherhen@smacklesandstretch67 @ceeceewinchester @tumblinwith-me @xfanqirlinq @heaven-is-aplaceonearthwithyou @hey-um-misha@bennyyh @acreativelydifferentlove @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @lovelife-tothefullest @under-general-asthetics @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @missdestiel67 @evyiione @jensenackesl @xxxdevine-demonsxxx @ayeeitsemry @mac5323 @bellastellaluna @atc74 @captainemwinchester @lemonadegazeelle @nanie5 @idalinette @maximoffangel-girl @quiddy-writes

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amanda-teaches · 7 years

Text

A Day at Sea

Summary: Dean takes you out on the water for a day of sailing.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1236

Warnings: None that I can see. Fluffily fluff! Some seasickness.

A/N: This is for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and Kari’s favorite things challenge. My prompt was Sailing. None of the pictures or gifs are mine.

“Dean, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he answered with a laugh, his hands on your shoulders as he guided you down a walkway towards a “surprise location,” as he called it. The blindfold over your eyes made it impossible for you to see where you were going, and, as much as you were dying to peek, you knew how hard Dean had worked to plan this, so you played along.

“Are we almost there, at least? I’m getting tired of walking.”

You heard Dean chuckle behind you, his breath brushing your ear, sending a rush through your body. “Y/N, you’re a hunter. I’ve seen you fight off five demons at once without breaking a sweat. This is making you tired?”

You sighed. “That’s different! I have adrenaline. This is just walking aimlessly for what seems like a million years. Besides, you’re going to slow.”

“Ok, ok,” he responded with a laugh. “You’re in luck, babe, because we’re here. Take off your blindfold.”

You stopped, the excitement rising inside you. You immediately ripped off your blindfold to see Dean standing in front of a gorgeous sailboat, his arms open wide and a gigantic smile on his face.

“Well? What do you think? The captain told me it was a 46 footer, just like the one you had…”

“….when I was a kid.” You could feel the tears rushing into your eyes as the memories came flooding back from some of the happiest times of your life: sailing with your dad. “Oh, Dean…”

At the sight of your tears, he instantly dropped his arms and ran over to you, the concern apparent on his face. “Do you not like it?”

You looked up into his eyes briefly before leaping into his arms. He had to brace himself to keep from falling back. “I love it,” you whispered as Dean’s arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to him. “And, I love you for doing this, Dean.”

“I love you, too, Y/N.” He pulled back to press a gentle, heartfelt kiss to your lips, full of certainty and promise. “Now, let’s go sailing!”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you excitedly towards the boat. You followed, laughing all the way at his enthusiasm, your love for this caring, silly, wonderful man overflowing inside of you.

Once on the boat, the two of you listened as the captain gave a tour, explaining the functions of all the various sails and ropes. You wouldn’t have to actually do anything during the sail, the captain and crew would handle everything, but you did ask if you could tighten the sail if it started luffing. That had always been your job growing up, so the captain was more than happy to allow it.

For the first hour of the sail, you and Dean just took the time to enjoy each other’s company. With your on-the-move lives, it was rare for the two of you to have a quiet moment to yourselves, without hunts or Sam interrupting, so you were taking full advantage.

Dean had packed a lunch for the two of you: homemade burgers, that were somehow still warm and amazingly delicious, and, of course, a whole pie, which Dean was able to almost finish off single-handedly.

After lunch, you settled in between his legs, laying your head back on his chest, his arms wrapped around you. You talked for a while before relaxing into a comfortable silence that could only be shared by two people completely in sync.

After about 20 minutes, you found yourself starting to doze off when Dean began to shift behind you. You ignored it for a minute, until the shifting became more frenzied. You sat up and turned back to look at him, instantly noticing his pale pallor.

“Dean? Are you okay?”

He gripped his stomach and his head. “I don’t know. I think….I think I’m gonna be sick…”

He turned and ran to the railing at the edge of the boat. You ran after him, rubbing his back as he leaned over the railing, clearing the earlier lunch from his stomach. Once, he was done, he stood back up weakly, and you helped him back to sit down onto the deck.

“Maybe that third slice of pie wasn’t such a good idea,” he muttered, as he gripped his stomach again. His face still had a sickly look, but he was looking a little better.

You frowned sympathetically at him. “I don’t think it was the pie, babe. I think you might be seasick.”

Dean groaned dramatically. “Seasick?”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be okay once we’re back on land. I’ll go tell the captain to turn back early.”

As you turned to leave, he grabbed your hand, stopping you from moving away. “No, wait. I don’t want you to have to end your sail early just because I’m sick. This is your big surprise, and I’m not going to ruin it with a little seasickness. I can,” he paused, as a wave of nausea passed over him. After a moment, he continued, albeit a little more weakly. “I can tough it out.”

“Not on my watch, Mr. Tough Guy,” you said with a smile. “Your health comes first. We’re going back.” You ended the discussion by turning and walking over to the stern of the boat to talk to the captain.

After arranging with him to turn back to port, you asked if he had any seasick medicine. He gave you a patch and a blanket before you made your way back to Dean. You applied the patch and had him lay against you, reversing your positions from earlier. You covered him with the blanket and ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. He instantly relaxed.

After a minute like that, Dean spoke up. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“For what?” you asked, confused by his sudden apology.

“For ruining the trip. This was supposed to be a big, romantic day for you. For us. It was supposed to be perfect. Now, it’s all ruined.”

A smile graced your lips. “It was perfect, Dean.”

“But, we had to stop early. Thanks to my stupid stomach.”

You sat forward so you could look into his eyes. “I don’t care about that, Dean. Don’t you know how much I loved this? For you to replicate whole thing for me is so thoughtful and amazing. And, I’ll have you know, that this sail was the best one I have ever been on. You know why?” He shook his head. “Because you were here. You made it perfect, Dean, because I love you. All the rest of that stuff doesn’t matter.”

He smiled. “I love you too, Y/N.”

You leaned in to kiss him, but he pulled back. “I have sick breath.”

You laughed and shook your head, before kissing him anyway. “I don’t care.”

Dean smiled again and settled back down against you. You rubbed your hand up and down his arm, the boat gently rocking as the sails caught the wind to take you home. “But, we do have to do one thing when we get back.”

Dean looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

You smiled. “Add boats to the list of ways Dean Winchester can’t travel.”

Dean groaned. “Great…Sammy’s never going to let me live this one down.”

“No he won’t,” you agreed with a laugh. “But, don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Tags: @hamartiamacguffin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @cyrilconnelly @jpadjackles @damnandriel-in-hell @impala-dreamer @castielhasthetardis

#kari's favorite things challenge #dean x reader #dean fluff #dean fanfic #dean fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert

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thing-you-do-with-that-thing · 7 years

Text

Kari’s Favorite Things Challenge Masterlist

Thanks to everyone who participated. These are truly some awesome fics. Go read, like and leave the authors some love people.

All the people that I granted extensions are on the list too but instead of a link to a fic it says entry. I will add them as they get posted. Remember the due date for the extension is July 10th guys.

List is under the cut cause it was a little long.

Platonic

It’s Hard being an Agent by @winchesters-imagine

Her Favorite Show by @blacktithe7

Just the Way You Are by @homeschooledonmyhands

Dean x Reader

Through the Looking Glass by @impalapiegirl67

Into the Criminal Mind by @wayward-marvel-sommer1196

Civil War Part 2 by @blackgirloneshots

Dean’s Mockingjay by @imaginesforthose-wholovefandoms

Your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams by @winchester-family-business

Cherry Pie by @atari-writes

The Secret of the Long Shower by @roxy-davenport

Going to the Movies by @emilywritesaboutdean

To My Dean by @winchesters-flannels

A New Phone by @wonderange

Eyes by @megansescape

Imagine Drinking Banana Milkshakes with Dean by @captainemwinchester

Dean’s Flannel by @luci-in-trenchcoats

First Degree Burns by @jayankles

To Love a Winchester by @roxyspearing

The Babysitter Incident by @flufy07

Companion by @docharleythegeekqueen

Breath Again by @mrsbatesmotel53

If Only by @fangirlingfanatic2442

The Winchesters by @aiaranradnay

A Day By the Sea by @amanda-teaches

Lie To Me by @chaos-and-the-calm67

The Shepherd by @lean-mean-sam-and-dean

Leather by @winchesterswoonathon

Entry by @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester

Sweet Gestures by @xfanqirlinq

Whatever It Takes by @mysupernaturalfics

Sam x Reader

The Purge by @abbirae99

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Without You by @unnatural-humanity

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The Last Piece by @percywinchester27

Entry by @wideawakeandwriting

Cas x Reader

The Truth is Out There by @webcricket

Ships

Dear Bucky by @emilyevanston (Marvel but I allowed it!)

Raiders of the Lost Ark by @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog (Deonna)

Jensen x Reader

The One With the Double Date by @wayward-oneshots

Hidden Obsessions by @katymacsupernatural

The Call by @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son

Date Interrupted by @winchester-writes

The Spark Next Door by @iwantthedean

And Then Some by @not-that-rude-but-very-ginger

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If the Bootie Fits by @impalaimagining

Misha x Reader

Dancing in the Dark by @wayward-mirage

Entry by @adriellej

#kari's favorite things challenge #challenge masterlist #spn challenge #dean x reader #sam x reader #cas x reader #jensen x reader #misha x reader

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megansescape · 7 years

Text

Eyes

This is my now late entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing favourite things challenge. My prompt was emerald. Tags are below the cut. I have used the SPN Fanfic pond tag list. If I have incorrectly tagged you then please let me know and I will remove the tag asap. P.S. this took me two hours to post, Tumblr hates me. P.s.s I ended up having to do this from my phone so I apologise for any mistakes

Summary: snippets of your life with an emerald-eyed hunter.

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Warnings: Fluff, smidgen of angst, swearing, child birth.

Word count: 977.

Emerald, that was the first thought you remember popping into your head as you stared into the eyes of the boy looking down at you on the floor. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight, concern filling them at the sight of your battered and bruised body. He was speaking to you, though you could barely hear him through the ringing in your head. Your vision swam around you, but slowly your hearing came back to you, allowing you to hear this mysterious man’s voice.

“Hey, sweetheart… You okay?” He reached a hand down from where he was crouched above you. “You look like you took a pretty bad hit there. Probably gonna be sore for awhile.”

“Wh..what’s going on?” You asked him cautiously.

“It’s okay, my name’s Dean.” He smiled down at you. “Bobby sent me and my brother to come help ya out.”

You took his hand, pulling yourself up to once again stare into his emerald green eyes. Little did you know that this was just the beginning of it all.

2 years later…

“So what do you say?” Dean looked at you nervously, from his position knelt on the cold concrete floor.

You looked down, not at him but at the beautiful emerald ring he was holding out for you.

“I..I..You.. Umm…” You stuttered in shock.

“Damn Y/N, you are really making me panic here.” Dean laughed, his hands shaking. “You don’t have to say yes, I mean…obviously I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I didn’t get the right type of ring. I should have listened to Sammy but you said you liked emeralds and I saw this and it just…looked…right. I’m sorry, I should…PFFF.”

You cut his rambling short, throwing yourself into his arms, claiming his lips with your own. The two of you toppled to the floor, making you break your kiss. Laughter filled the room as you laid there, wrapped in each other.

“So does this mean yes then?” Dean asked you, his emerald eyes sparkling with joy.

“Of course, ya idiot.” You laughed. “What girl would be crazy enough to turn down an emerald from her own emerald adonis.”

Dean shook his head at your nickname for him before leaning down to sweetly kiss your lips once more.

9 months later…

Of all the places you had to deliver your baby in, it had to be the war room. You had tried to make it to the door but the pain was just too strong. Dean and Sam were out getting supplies and were supposed to get back hours ago. Hey weren’t answering your calls and you were beginning to worry about them, not the best thing to do when you are about to give birth.

You didn’t know what to do, so you did the only thing you could think of. Call Cas. As soon as you finished calling for him, you heard a flutter of wings. Stood beside you was Cas, relief flooded you.

“Y/N, what is wrong? Why have you called me? Surely it is Dean who should be here for the birth?” Cas looked at you in confusion.

“Yes Cas, I know that but Sam and Dean went out and I can’t get hold of them. I just need you to take me to the hospital and then find them.” You pleaded with him as another contraction hit, they were getting closer together.

“Y/N I thought you knew, I cannot teleport you.” Cas stated to you, backing away slowly.

“Why not Castiel?” You seethed, trying to remain calm.

“Because it is too dangerous to transport you when you are in labour. It could harm the baby.” Cas spoke softly, trying to help you relax.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath. “Then you are gonna have to help me have this baby Cas. The contractions are too close for me to be able to drive to the hospital. So I am just gonna have to give birth in…A…BUUUNKKKERR.”

“Contraction?” Cas asked.

“No shit Sherlock!!” You yelled at him. The last of the contraction starting to ease from your body.

The next ten minutes were filled with pain as you prepared the table for you to give birth on. Cas teleported around, grabbing everything soft he could find, in order to give you support.

That is how Sam and Dean found you twenty minutes later, as they opened the door to the Bunker battered and bruised. Dean saw you on the table, Cas in between your legs as you screamed in agony. He ran down to you, ignoring his own pain.

You looked at him as he ran to you, gripping his hand as soon as he was close enough. You waited until his body had come to a stop, looked up into those tearful, emerald eyes, reached up to grab his shirt, pulled his face down to yours.

“WHERE THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?”

30 mins later..

You looked down at your smiling baby girl, her brilliant, shining emerald eyes staring back up at you. Sam and Cas had left you and Dean to bond with your daughter just a few minutes ago. Dean sat by the side of you, resting his head on your shoulder as you both stared at the little miracle in your arms.

“Isn’t she perfect Dean?” You asked him breathlessly.

“That she is, sweetheart.” Dean said proudly. “I will make sure she has a proper upbringing.”

“Yeah, we will.” You nodded, grateful to have a chance to start again with your own little family.

“No sweetheart not you as well. Just me.” Dean stated.

You turned around to face him in confusion, terror filling you when instead of your fiance’s beautiful emerald eyes, you were met with soulless coal black eyes.

You screamed.

Forever Tags: @taste-of-dean @mamaredd123 @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @atc74 @babypieandwhiskey @idreamofhazel @chelsea072498

Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @notnaturalanahi @jensen-jarpad @nichelle-my-belle @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @salvachester @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @wildfirewinchester @frenchybell @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @jpadjackles @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh

#kari's favorite things challenge #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural #spn fanfic #fluffy #angsty

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