#not the first time Pep lost a baby but it's still a terrible thing regardless!!!

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

THE BABY?!?!?! OHHH GOD I CAN'T IMAGINE HOW AWFUL IT WAS TO LOSE THEM DDD: JUST A LITTLE BOY!!!!

(Clone ages are kinda weird, since they come out as fully sentient 50-year-old men, but also newborn babies ahdkfsd

But yes, Mirtillo was the youngest clone of Pep's little family, being the equivalent of about three years old, so they are baby

And yes, it was pretty bad to lose them, along with the others)

[arukou-arukou]

Just A Really Very Intelligent System

Been thinking about this one for a while. Finally managed to write it. Rating: T for “Language.” (It just kinda slipped out.) Characters: Tony Stark & JARVIS

----

He is in one of the most dangerous situations of his life trying to save the whole freaking universe by watching a man the size of a dust bunny wriggle into the hairline of his younger self, so it would be really, really bad if he happened to have a heart attack. Older him that is. But he nearly does go into cardiac arrest when he hears an old friend in his ear.

“Verify immediately. Failure to verify will result in an activation of level one security protocols.”

His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and his palms are sweating, but somehow he manages to whisper out: “Edwin-12-19-91-4-8-47-Alpha Override.”

“Override accepted. Sir?”

“Hey, J.”

“Sir, you have imbued me with considerable computing power, and yet never did you prepare me for the possibility of you being in two places at once.”

“Yeah, about that. You haven’t said anything to Mr. Quipster over there, have you?”

“Not as yet, Sir. You wish me to keep it that way?”

“It would really help me out, buddy.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Tony wants to stay longer, to talk, to warn JARVIS, to cry, but he has places to be, things to do, planets to save. Scott’s safely positioned, so Tony yeets himself out of the building to get to the ground floor. He doesn’t know why he thought that would make JARVIS disappear.

“I see, Sir, that your proclivities for leaping before looking are unchanged.”

Another near heart attack--he’s gradually phased Friday out of his ears now that the nanotech is connected directly to his nervous system, so he’s not exactly used to AI voices anymore--but he recovers more quickly. “You’re always there to catch me, J.”

“And yet my systems are not present in your suit, Sir. I see codal remnants of system designation FRIDAY, but nothing of myself.”

Tony remains silent. This is such a terrible time to be feeling all the feelings. He spots a grunt who looks more or less unimportant and knocks the guy out. Part of him wants to warn SHIELD about their shit security, but then again, this guy’s probably Hydra and he deserves every bruise he gets. He senses JARVIS in his systems, a ghost in the shell.

“You no longer have the reactor. And if I’m not mistaken, that is gray in your hair. So you are not my Sir.”

“Well, yes and no.”

“I suppose it would destroy the spacetime continuum for you to divulge the truth to me.”

“You’re too smart for me, J,” Tony grunts as he yanks on the bullet-proof tac vest. “It’s kind of a long story, and while I technically have all the time in the world, I also really, really don’t.”

He sidles into the lobby and looks toward his personal elevator, waiting for the Avengers to appear. J is quiet so long Tony wonders if he’s being preoccupied by...well, just about anything. Damaged internal systems, a Cap copy on the loose, a second Hulk out there, panicked calls from Pepper. But then JARVIS speaks again.

“Regardless of the tale, I must conclude that you are from the future, and I am no longer by your side.”

Tony is fucking choking up. He was not ready for this. It didn’t even cross his mind. And the fucking elevator is opening. There’s Pierce, the rat bastard, trying to collect the Tesseract.

“I hope I did not disappoint you, Sir.”

“Never, J. Never.” Fuck fuck fuck, he’s nearly crying and now Scott is on the com waiting for the go-ahead. Tony channels his pain into panic and orders his own cardiac arrest.

“Sir, what are you--”

Thank god, his younger self is on the ground and that’s apparently all the distraction J needs to abandon older Tony. Tesseract incoming. Tony grabs it and starts going and--

Blinking stars out of his eyes he watches as Loki makes off with the key, the thing they most needed, the damn stone that started all of this way back when Cap was a starry-eyed beanpole in World War II. He has just biffed saving the entire damn universe because of an overgrown Star Trek reject with anger issues. And now he has a migraine to boot.

Frozen in shame and horror, Tony watches as Thor attempts ill-advised cardiac electro-stim. Scott’s somewhere out there, yammering in Tony’s ear on the private channel, but all of that is just a buzzing.

“Sir? Sir. Sir!”

And J. Maybe Tony should cry now. It certainly feels like the time for it. One of the other SHIELD grunts is making her way toward him, so he staggers to his feet, waving her off and limping toward the door. Think. Think, brain, think. Tony is a genius, the man who invented time travel, the man who miniaturized arc reactor technology. A spaceship? SHIELD’s probably got one somewhere. Maybe they could chase after Loki.

“SIR!” How many times JARVIS has shouted his title, Tony has no idea, but this one is so loud it sets his teeth on edge.

“Yeah, J? Kind of busy here.”

“Giving yourself a heart attack, Sir?” JARVIS was programmed to be cool and calm in all circumstances, but Tony could swear that sentence was uttered with seething rage.

“I’m fine. Look at me.”

“Only by some measure of infinitesimal luck, Sir. Perhaps I should ask you to verify your identity one more time, as you seem intent on killing yourself.”

“No, J. I’ve actually got a lot of reasons to live. And so does he. Promise.” Tony is so tired. Was being an Avenger always this exhausting? Or is it just that he’s bumped over that damnable big 5-0? And Cap’s gonna ream him too. That’s never any fun.

“I’m...glad to hear it, Sir.”

And fuck it. It’s not like this will alter Tony’s timeline anyway. This reality is now on a different trajectory thanks to Severus Snape Lite. “Her name’s Morgan. You’d love her, J. Just turned four. She got my hair. Hope to god she didn’t get my personality.”

“Do I meet her, Sir?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck it.

“J, you should dig a little deeper into SHIELD’s systems. Well, actually, a lot deeper. And the Pentagon while you’re at it. And track down Maya Hansen from that conference in 1999 and poach her from whatever outfit she’s working for. Immediately. Make sure she brings all her vet patients with her. And, uh, when I start talking about a suit of armor around the world, steer me away from anything called Ultron. And if I make it anyway, you delete the fuck out of that system file. Have Bruce back you up. He’s more sensible.”

“Sir, I don’t--”

“And have me make back-ups. At least three extra farms of servers for you. On different continents. And all those SHIELD files? Make sure Cap and Fury get them. And there’s...there’s this guy. This assassin. Brainwashed. He’s, uh, I think he’s on ice in Uzbekistan right now. If you could rescue him, it’ll...it’ll fix a lot of things.”

“Should you really--”

“And, please. Please please.”

Tony is not crying. He’s not. It’s just all the dust and debris in the air. Good lord, he’s probably going to die of cancer anyway. And all those first responders. Did he start a fund for them?

“Start a medical fund for the first responders on the ground today. And start leaning on Congressmen to make medical plans for them. You know how long they take to get anything done. Oh, and Stern. There are incriminating photos of Stern with some young ladies on South Beach. See if you can dig those up. Flowers for Pep. And a box of chocolates. And a dry martini with extra olives.”

Tony slumps into a burned out car, staring at nothing. He didn’t save his universe, but maybe he can save this one. His eyes are still irritated, burning red and itchy. He resists the urge to scrub at them, not wanting to grind in anymore dust.

“Are you quite finished, Sir?”

“Yeah. Actually, no. I love you, J.”

Silence. Ah. That’s stumped him. Maybe he’ll go back to tending his new posse of baby chicks now.

“I know you probably do not believe me capable of it, Sir, but I love you, too.”

His son. The only one he’ll ever make, but not the only one he’s lost. His son loves him. Tony’s throat is full of dust, too. Funny how that happens. He tries to swallow it down, but it only congeals into a hard lump. He puts a hand over his mouth to try and hold back any choking sounds. “I...I know you do, J.”

“As to your orders, I shall do what I can. It is my duty to protect you, Sir, and I would very much like to meet your little Morgan.”

“She might not exist here. I might’ve just changed everything.”

“If there is one thing I have learned from all my years with you, Sir, it is that perhaps such a thing as fate exists after all. Even mathematically speaking. And if that is the case, I cannot imagine a universe in which you are not fated to this happiness.”

Tony laughs, if only to keep from crying harder. And he is. Crying, that is. As if he was fooling anyone. Happiness? Him? Happy people don’t wake in the night screaming for a pile of dust in their hands. Happy people don’t spend hours coordinating relief efforts for countries whose entire infrastructural support has collapsed. Happy people don’t hurl themselves back in time, driven by guilt and horror at all the wrongs in the world. J, brilliant, wonderful AI that he is, seems to sense the dark turn of Tony’s thoughts.

“And if you yourself cannot believe in this thing, Sir, then I shall just have to do everything in my power to provide it for you.”

Another guffaw, but at least his eyes are drying a little now. “God, I miss you, J.”

“I believe your small teammate is approaching, Sir. If I may inquire, was it the Tesseract you were seeking?”

“You mean the stupid blue cube of doom? That’s the one.”

“And you say you have the means to time travel?”

“Yeah, J. We do. But only enough to get back to our time.”

“A limitation has never stopped you before, Sir.” JARVIS sounds thoughtful, as if he’s forming a plan.

Tony would ask him what he’s scheming at, but just at that moment, Scott embiggens himself and slumps into the car with Tony. That road is closed, then. They are out of options. Out of Pym particles. Out of time. Out of hope.

Until they aren’t. Just as Tony is setting his device for their new destination, J pipes up again, for Tony’s ears only. “You say you miss me, Sir. Then allow me to give you a small gift.”

Tony is pressing the buttons, and even if they weren’t already shrinking into the quantum tunnel, he wouldn’t be able to ask exactly what J means. It’s only when he and Cap arrive in 1970 that he has his first gleaning. In his ear, a voice. One so unexpected he nearly jumps into Cap’s arms. “Hello, System Administrator Anthony Edward Stark. I am System Designation EDWIN. ‘Eagerly Deployed With Intent to Neutralize Loneliness.’ I am told to tell you the “L” is silent and invisible. How may I best serve you today, Sir?”

Cap is staring at Tony like Tony’s lost his mind. And maybe he has. He’s been bugged by his own damn operating system. With a bouncing baby AI. And if Steve finds out, he’ll probably have a conniption about the spacetime continuum or something. So the only logical thing Tony can do is say, “Let’s find some Pym particles.”

“Acknowledged, Sir. Commencing scanning.”

-----

(In this reality EDWIN saves the fuck out of Tony’s life and everyone lives happily ever after and EDWIN builds JARVIS from scratch so he’s back or something, okay? Okay.)

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Chapter 14

Title: Falling for the Holidays

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 4719

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children.  However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Arguing, Terribly written Donna (I can’t write her to save my life so I don’t know why I used her as a character), Consumption of Alcohol, Drunkenness, and I think that’s it. 

A/N: Sorry everyone for taking so long with this chapter. I’ve been struggling a little with my personal issues so writing had proven a little difficult. But now I’m feeling a little better and banged out this baby in two days. And to make up for the long wait, this chapter is pretty lengthy. This is a loaded chapter and it moves fast paced, so I hope it’s okay and that it doesn’t seem a little too rushed. I just needed to move the series along so that we can get to the good stuff! Please let me know what you thought! I adore and appreciate the feedback! Thank you everyone for being so patient with me! xx

Series Masterlist

Dean knew all along, but despite that, it didn’t prepare him for the confirmation out of Lisa’s mouth. Ben was his. He had a four-year old kid. One that he didn’t even know about since recently.

Lunch was eaten in silence, Dean trying to wrack his brain around everything, while Lisa was just too afraid to say anything, not wanting to chance it and make him angry. It wasn’t until Dean was nearly done with his food did he finally speak.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. It was a simple question but it was a loaded one as well.

“I was too afraid to tell you. I know that’s no excuse, but we were broken up and you were leaving for college. I’m sorry. I was just… I was too scared.” Dean sighed. He couldn’t blame Lisa for being afraid, but Dean deserved to know. But he knew now, and that’s all that mattered, right? Dean was an understanding guy, wasn’t he? Yes, he was. His mom raised him to be a gentleman, and that was how he was going to handle this. Like a real man.

“You should have told me. We could have figured things out.”

“I know… I’m sorry,” Lisa choked, trying to keep her tears at bay, not wanting to worry her son… their son.

“Hey, hey. Come here,” Dean called, opening his arms for Lisa.

She wiggled out of her seat and slowly made her way towards Dean, letting him hold her as she sat next to him. She quickly felt at ease, meeting Ben’s eyes before smiling. Ben smiled in return, taking another bite of his burger, smearing ketchup and mustard over his cheeks.

As calm as Dean pretended to be on the outside, he was a floundering mess on the inside. He had no idea how to be a father, and he had no idea how he was going to build a relationship with his son and not fuck things up.

Speaking – or thinking about – fucking things up… there was the ordeal with you. You kissed him, and despite needing to be with Lisa and their son, he wanted nothing more than to rush into your apartment and kiss you again. Show you just how much you mean to him and how much he wished he was with you, but things were just too complicated. Life wouldn’t be life it was easy, right?

While Dean was with Lisa and Ben, you were alone in your tiny apartment laying face down on your comfortably worn couch, with your head buried in your favorite plaid throw pillow, the one Cass made for your birthday. It was lumpy and was a far cry from a square shape, but the fact that he made it didn’t only make it hilarious, it was genuine. You loved it so much.

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. The tapping timidly soft. Your heart clenched wondering who it could be, until you heard a familiar face.

“Y/N?” It was Cass! Coincident? You think not. You had thought about him and the universe delivered him to your doorstep!

Without hesitation, you sprung off the couch, retching the door open before colliding your small body into his much larger and muscular one. You could feel his body tense under your grasp, but quickly relaxed as his arms cradled around your back.

“What are you doing here?” The words came out mumbled against his chest, but still coherent for him to understand.

“Jo called me. She said she saw Dean at Lafitte with…” he cleared his throat, “... with someone from his past, so I thought I’d come check on you.” You wanted to laugh at his use of words however, you were glad that he didn’t say her name. You couldn’t bare it at the moment.

“Did I ever tell you you’re an angel?” You muttered. Cass didn’t say a word, but he smiled, tightening his hold around you.

Meanwhile, Ketch was sitting outside your apartment in the parking lot, thinking about what he was going to say to you. He had witnessed you kiss the man you were in love with and he was beginning to get frustrated. He wasn’t making any progress with you. He needed to think of a way to get you on his side and start believing that you didn’t need Dean, didn’t want Dean. He needed you to believe you wanted him.

“C’mon Ketch, get it together. You can do this. You have women eating out of the palm of your hands. You can get one girl to fall in love with you...” he gave himself a pep talk.

With one final breath, he hopped out of his car, taking his time to get to your apartment, still processing what exactly he was going to say to you. He was sure that you already had some sort of feelings for him, how strong were they? He wasn’t sure, but he just needed to get himself out of the friend zone and into the potential zone. You were the first woman he really had to work for and it was infuriating, but at the same time, there was something inside him that was being a tad irrational. He was getting confused.

You and Cass had just sat down on your couch, the angelic man eyeing the throw pillow next to you. “When are you going to throw that horrid thing away? It’s been two years,” he spoke, referring to the gift he had given years ago.

“What are you talking about? I’m never throwing this away! You made it for me, and it happens to be my favorite pillow!” Cass has heard you say those words a million times, but he still can’t believe you actually like, let alone love, the pillow he made you. But regardless, it warmed his heart. You were like the little sister, or cousin, he wished he had. His family were a bunch of dicks, with a few who were tolerable.

Just as you and Cass got comfortable, another knock came from your door. You started at crystal blue eyes as they stared back at you with confusion. “Who could that be?” You pondered out loud, a little disappointed. You wanted to tell Cass everything that happened, but was rudely interrupted.

“Would you like me to answer it for you?” Cass offered. You nodded in response, your heart hammering in anticipation.

What if it was Dean?! What would you do or say then?

Cass lifted himself off the couch and made his way towards the door, twisting the knob slowly before peeling the wooden surface ajar. He was met with a strange man he’s never seen before, his brows furrowing together, lips parting, in his signature lost puppy look.

“Oh. I wasn’t aware that Y/N had a visitor. I’m sorry, is she home?”

“If you mean Y/N has friends, then yes she does. A lot actually,” Cass sassed, not liking the aura he got from the man before him. Cass was pretty intuitive.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. Is she here?” Ketch asked.

“And whom should I announce is here to see her?”

“I’m her friend, Ketch. She left her things in my car so I thought I’d drop them off.”

“Cass, who is it?” You asked, now standing beside him. When he didn’t respond, busy starting down whoever was at the door, you shifted to his side so you could peek around him. Your eyes widened, completely forgetting about Ketch. “Ketch!”

“Y/N,” he greeted, giving you a sweet smile.

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! Please come in,” you slipped from under Castiel’s arms so that you were standing in front of him. You used your body to press up against your long time friend, shoving him backwards as he adamantly resisted you. Cass kept his eye on the British man, squinting, unsure if he could trust him.

When you were finally able to get Cass to step back enough to give Ketch enough space, he walked in, setting your bag on the faded love couch. “You forgot your bag, so I thought I’d come drop it off, as well as see how you were doing, but it seems you’ve got someone else already doing that,” he forced a smile on his face as he glanced over at Cass again, who was still glaring.

“Uh, yeah. Cass is a really good friend of mine. Cass, this is Ketch. He’s a friend I met on the plane ride back here,” you introduced.

“I see. It’s ni—,” Cass cut himself off, “it was unexpected to meet you.”

“Yes. Quite unexpected,” Ketch replied, clearly not happy with Castiel’s presence, as he eyed him down. He wondered if Cass was another hurdle he’d have to jump over to have you. “Let me guess… the Lincoln outside is yours?” Ketch asked.

“Yes. Is there a problem?” Castiel replied.

“Not at all. It’s just… it matches your trench coat,” Ketch scoffed, as if it was supposed to be a compliment.

“What’s wrong with my trench coat. It was given to me by my dearest friend,” he defended. That trench coat was indeed given by a dear friend of his – Dean.

“Umm, anyways…” your eyes shifted between both men standing in your house. Ketch I am so sorry for ditching you like that. I hope you didn’t worry too much about me. That’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to cause you trouble. I just had a lot on my mind, and I guess I was a little overwhelmed.”

Ketch’s attention fell on you while Cass was transfixed on the other man, untrustingly. “It was no trouble, and I completely understand. I just want to let you know before I go, that I’m here for you. If you ever need to talk, you have my number. I’ll pick you up, meet you here, and we can go anywhere you’d like.”

“Thanks Ketch. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ketch leaned in, giving you a hug, and behind his back, you could see Castiel tensing.

When Ketch pulled away, he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, a sentiment he’s never done before. To be honest, it was a little weird. Kind of like he was overstepping the boundary. Yes, you liked him, a flicker of a crush in your heart for the man, and stray thoughts of maybes and what ifs swarming around the idea of being with him, but on the scale… your feelings for him had no match for the feelings you held Dean. If Ketch had a chance, he’d be waiting a long time for that to happen, unless you sold out on yourself and tried to use him as a means to an end, but also to the beginning of something that could work?

Once Ketch was gone, Cass glared at you like a father waiting for his guilty child to explain. You let out a deep sigh, falling onto your couch, Cass along with you, and you told him everything. Every. Single. Thing.

After that, Jo came around and you had to explain it a second time. A day latter, you found yourself explaining to Castiel’s girlfriend, Meg! Why? You weren’t sure. You didn’t even know her that well. But after a week had past, everyone was caught up and has accepted everything that’s happened. A fake relationship gone terrible wrong.

One week turned to two weeks, and soon Christmas was only a couple of weeks away, and no one had barely talked to Dean. Jo had a handful of short conversations, and Castiel was able to get one heart to heart talk with his best friend, but that was it. You had gotten no contact from him, and when you’d try to call him once, it rang twice before going straight to voicemail. Obviously, he had ignored your call, and that was enough to crush you.

According to Cass, Dean had found out that Ben was his kid. That was news you ever not expecting. It had taken a few days for you to settle with that information, but it made sense why Dean was always MIA. He has been busy trying to jump into fatherhood. Balancing school in hopes to graduate and learning to be a father was apparently time consuming.

BUT – and maybe you were just bitter – you were damn sure that if his friends mattered, he’d make the time. He’d make the time to have lunch with you and the others, he’d try to talk to you, even if it was through texting. He’d try something. But alas, Dean was drifting further and further away from you. From all of you. Just because of some girl. Just because of some kid.

Wanting to beat yourself up, you scolded yourself for having those thoughts. You didn’t give a rat’s ass about Lisa, but Ben wasn’t just some kid. He was Dean’s kid. And you couldn’t blame the four-year old for who his parents were. And you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling disappointed either.

Not only was Dean back with his ex, his first love, he had a baby with her! A living breathing person!

But what could you do about it? Zilch. Nada. Nothing what so ever.

With everthing that was happening, you had hung out with Ketch a few times since the encounter with him and Castiel, and eventually, your relationship had diminished into mostly texting everyday with a possible phone call. Once in a while you’d catch him around town and you’d stop to say hello, or sometimes he’d walk into your workplace ordering a coffee and scone, all the while flirting with you shamelessly. Even your co-workers couldn’t keep to themselves, butting into your conversations and business.

Things were starting to get better – which surprised you.

One night, you decided that you were determined to get the old you back with a night out with the girls! You and Jo rallied up all your lady friends, and headed out to the local bar, on a Friday night, and the place was packed as always!

“I’ll find us a table!” Charlie shouted over the blaring music, “you know what I like!”

“I’m gonna go with her!” Bess announced. Bess was a good girl. She never drank and was always happy to be the DD. All that mattered to her was having a good time and making sure everyone got home safe. You loved Bess. Every group of friends needed a Bess.

After grabbing the first round, and a few shots later, everyone was on the dance floor, grinding against one another, laughing, drinking, just letting loose, and for the first time in a long time, it was like you and Dean never happened. You were having fun.

Lost in the music, you found a strong grip around your waist, pulling you closer to their tall and muscular body, and you flipped your hair to one side of your neck, peeking over your bare shoulder to meet deep brown eyes staring back at you and a cocky smiled playing on his lips. It was Michael. Castiel’s big brother, Michael. The same Michael that Dean despised.

Oh… if only Dean could see you now. You’d rub it in his face just to spite him.

Jo and the other girls shared a look at each other, smiling in approval of the surprise guest. With a chorus of giggles, the girls wiggled elsewhere on the dance floor to give you and Michael some privacy. They knew if Cass or Dean was here to see this, they’d flip their lid! But they weren’t. And an attractive man is an attractive man. Why not have a little fun?

You were grinding up against him, your confidence back at it’s peak. You didn’t need Dean, you didn’t need to settle for Ketch, no – you could be single and have fun with no restraints.

Swaying your hips against Michael’s crotch, you slithered down before bending over and sliding your ass over his hardening length. That’s the moment you knew you were in control. You had the power. Then suddenly his hands were quick to pull you upright, one hand locked in your hair while the other pressed on your stomach, keeping you flush against him, allowing him to squirm his hips against your ass, letting you feel just how hard he was for you.

Fuck.

You shivered in his grasp, and Michael smirked. “I’m always in control,” he growled in your ear. His voice more intoxicating that the alcohol you consumed.

“Fuck,” you gasped. You had never met someone like him before. You’ve only seen him from afar, heard stories about his reputation, but this was the first time you’ve ever come face to face. This was your first time ever interacting with him, and shit. The rumors did no justice.

“Mmm,” he hummed, “If that’s what you really want.”

Before anything could escalate, someone interrupted. “Mind if I cut in?” a familiar accent filtered through your ears.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” Michael hissed.

“K-ketch?” you questioned, pulling yourself out of Michael’s grasp. “What are you doing here?”

“Stopped by for a drink when I saw you dancing with him,” Ketch squared up against Michael. This was the first time you’ve ever seen this side of Ketch before. Was he drunk? What the hell was up with him? Was he seriously acting jealous right now?

“Sorry, is she your girlfriend? Maybe next time you should keep her on a tighter leash,” Michael chuckled.

Your jaw dropped at his words. You were offended. “Excuse you,” you stormed back in front of the cocky bastard. “I am nobody’s girlfriend, and you are a sexist asshole!”

“Feisty. I like my woman feisty. Bet you’ve got a filthy mouth in bed –” His words were cut short when threw him a right hook.

“Jump off a cliff, asshat” you spat before storming off, Ketch giving Michael a smug look before following you out of the club.

“Wow, that was impressive,” Ketch chuckled, swaying a bit on his feet.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You barked. Ketch stared at you wide-eyed, not expecting you to lash out like that.

“What do you mean?” He asked flatly.

“Coming over like some jealous boyfriend! News flash, you’re not my boyfriend!”

“Sorry. I’m not sure what came over me. One minute I see you dancing with so random guy, and the next I’m walking over and the words just come out.”

“Look, Ketch. We’re friends. That’s it,” you sighed. After the few weeks, you’ve realized you didn’t like Ketch in any romantic form. You didn’t have a crush on him. You only liked the comfort he gave you. But now you had your other friends to help, and they were also getting you back on your feet. You had an actual support system and you were beginning to think for rationally rather than emotionally.

“I thought we had something?”

“Ketch… maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. We’ll always be friends but I don’t like you like that. I’m sorry.” Your words seemed a little harsh, but that’s what happens when you’re a slightly drunk. The filter comes off. “I think what I liked about you was the attention and comfort you were giving me during a vulnerable time, but I’m starting to feel like myself again. I mean, we’re still friends. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow or something?”

Ketch just stood there, eyes boring down on you. “Are you kidding me? Are you seriously turning me down right now?” He asked offended. “I spent weeks trying to help you and this is how your turning me down?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m a little drunk. And you gave me no other choice. I like you. I really do, but only as a friend. But don’t worry. Look at you. You’re a handsome fellow with a dreamy accent. You’ll find yourself a woman easy!” you tried to build up his ego.

Ketch let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger. “You are exhausting. Ever think that Dean doesn’t like you because you’re just too much to handle? That maybe he likes simpler woman, like Lisa?”

Your stomach sank. His words hurt and they were meant to.

“Wow…” you laughed defeated, “Just… wow. How would you even know if Lisa is a simple person or not?!” You retorted.

“Y/N, look… I’m sorry. I didn’t –”

“No. No, you did. You meant it. Thanks. I was having a great night and you come crashing in like a big stupid British wrecking ball! Thanks a lot. I’ll see ya around,” you dismissed him, turning on your heels. “I need a drink…” you muttered to yourself, before entering the bar.

By the end of the night, you were plastered and Bess was having a hard time getting everyone in the car. Everyone was pretty shitfaced and she didn’t know how to handle it, so she called for back up.

She called Benny to grab Jo, Castiel to get Meg, and Dean to get you. She was surprised that she was able to catch a hold of him. Bess was well aware that Dean had been distant from all of his friends. The only person who saw him the most was Benny, because Dean would bring over his little “family” over to eat all the time.

When Dean arrived, everyone was shocked. “I told you he was coming,” Bess chided at those you didn’t believe her. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, and Dean didn’t fail her.

Dean approached the group, awkwardly greeting everyone. He quickly searched around for you, knowing that he was there to bring you home. He didn’t spot you and was about to ask Bess where you were when the loud voice of a certain, tiny redhead, boomed through the parking lot.

“The idiot knight in shinin’ armor arrives!” Charlie shouted obnoxiously, her words slurred. Castiel glared at her exasperatedly, grabbing her arm and shoving her into the back seat of his car. Dean sighed, instantly knowing that they’ve definitely heard your side of the story.

“I’ll bring her home too,” Castiel nodded, before giving his best friend and apologetic stare.

“Yo, Donny! Jump in! Us blondes need ta stick together, ya feel me?!” Jo yelled at Donna, who giggled before taking large awkward steps, as if she was trying to avoid falling into lava.

“How much, exactly, did they have to drink?” Castiel questioned, all sober sets of eyes on Bess.

“Well… Y/N kind of got into a fight?” She noticed all three men twitch at her words and quickly spoke again. “Not a fight! It was more of… uhh… she punched a guy, and this other guy followed her outside, and when she came back, she ordered a round of shots, and then another, and then random guys started buying everyone shots and well, by the time Abby was dancing on the bar, that’s when I called you. You have no idea how hard it was to get them all out of there.”

“She promised us doughnuts!” Donna shouted from the back of Benny’s pick up.

“Donna, what ya doin’ back there? C’mon and get in the truck. You’re sittin’ next to Jo!” Benny left to help Donna out of the bed of the truck and into the cab. Jo giggled while Donna attempted to climb in.

“I betcha thinkin’ I need to get some climbing lessons, dontcha? Well, that’s because I do,” she joked, making Jo laugh harder.

“Hey! What ya laughing ‘bout over there!” You slurred walking out of the bar, a beer bottle in hand.

“Y/N!” Bess shrieked.

“Oh yeah! The night’s still young, bitches!” Abby walked out right after. “Hey boys, care for a drink?” She wiggled her eyebrows before slinging her arm over your shoulder.

“What’s he doin’ here!” You grumbled, wobbling as you pointing at Dean with your beer, some of it’s contents flying out of the bottle. “We didn’t invite boys! No boys allowed! They’re goss!” You yelled, throwing your bottle at Dean. Luckily, he caught it, bringing the brown bottle to his lips and chugging what was left of it. “Hey! Dude, what the fuck? That was my beer!” you chided.

“We’re going!” Dean snapped, taking three long strides and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Who do ya think ya are? I’m gonna rip your head off!” You were punching his back and butt, his arms easily pinning your legs.

“I’d like to see you try, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that. Only Dean can call me that!” You voice croaked.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Dean nodded in goodbye before hauling you to his truck.

Reaching his Ford, he wrenched the door open and swiftly set you in. But as he tried to buckle your belt, you resisted.

“I don’t like you, get away!” You whined, pushing at his chest, head, shoulders, anywhere you could. “Stop! I don’t need ya. I don’t need anything from ya,” you bonked his head with your fist like a hammer.

“Would you just stop! Just for like two seconds!” Dean hissed, grabbing each of your wrists and glaring at you. His eyes quickly softened when he noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I hate you…” you muttered before snatching your hands away and buckling yourself in, although it took a few tries.

By the time Dean had climbed into the driver’s seat, you were already out cold. He let out a deep sigh, sitting in his truck, watching you. If things were different, if Lisa hadn’t come back into his life, if Ben didn’t exist (or at least wasn’t his), he was sure he’d make sure that you were his and he was yours. You wouldn’t be out at the bar with the girls. Instead, he would have taken you out on a date, and you’d be wearing that little black dress to dinner. You would both have dessert, and then he’d end the night by taking you home and showing you how much he cared about you, prove to you how much he was in love with you. Make you believe that there was only you.

That it is only you.

As he parked in his usual parking space outside your apartment, he hopped out of the truck, and carefully opened the passenger door that you were leaning on. He held you steady as he widened the door, hooking his arms under your back and knees. As if you were light as a feather, he easily picked you up, using his hip to shut the door, before quickly locking it with his beat up key fob and shoving it into his back pocket.

It was late so no one was walking around the building halls, which Dean was a little thankful for. It saved him the trouble of explaining to anyone, and all he wanted to was to get you in bed safe and sound.

When he arrived at your front door, he raised his foot against the wall, using it as leverage so he could rest some of your weight on his leg while he dug for his spare key. He was able to easily get the key in the slot and twisted the door open, kicking the door closed with his foot until he heard the click of the lock fall into place.

He brought you over to your room, laying you in the middle of your unmade bed before removing your strappy heals. He cursed quietly to himself about how girls shouldn’t wear straps. That were so difficult to undo. When he eventually got it off, you were sitting up on the bed without him noticing.

“Oh, shit!” Dean whisper-yelled when he realized you were awake, intensely watching him. He was about to say something but you beat him to it.

“Stay—” your voice sounded small.

“What?” He asked, unsure if he heard correctly.

“Please stay. Don’t leave. Don’t leave again.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

“Please! Please Dean, stay. Just for one night. All I want to do is sleep… so please.”

“Y/N—”

“Stay…” you whispered. And that was all it took.

“Okay.”

Say Something Nice Here!

Falling for the Holidays Tags: @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @winchesterprincessbride @amanda-teaches @dancingalone21 @a-winchester-fairytale @dolphincliffs @oneshoeshort @brewsthespirit-blog @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @atc74 @natasha-baggins @heavymetalhauswife @linki-locks11 @spnwoman @veevm @chameleah86 @kdcollinsauthor @claitynroberts @roonyxx @rainflowermoon @ladylaylo @closetspngirl @mirandaaustin93 @salt-n-burn-em-all @flamencodiva @fangirlanotherjust @winchest09 @shamelesslydean @couldabeenamermaid @alexwinchester23 @algud @gracefultrenchcoat494 @prettyinplaid94 @shhhs3cret @cookiechipdough @justkending @adoptdontshoppets @screechingartisancashbailiff