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deliciousangelfestival · 3 years

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Chapter 2

Character : Mob!Steve Rogers x Female Reader (?)

Summary : Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her.

A/n :This #### will be used to explain the character’s past.

Warning : Grammar mistakes, since English is not my first language.

Somewhere in Brooklyn.

There’s a female who is taking a nap on the couch. Today’s activity kind of exhausts her because of last night and the unexpected event at the restaurant. She wants to take a nap first before having dinner. But after 10 minutes, her beautiful sleep got distracted.

“(Y/N) !!! (Y/N) !!!”

(Y/N) awakened up from her nap because of the smashing door. She rubbed her eyes with her backhand. When her eyes finally focused, she could see someone standing in front of her.

She lazily asked him, “What’s up, Bambi?”

“Don’t call me with that nickname.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because you have grown up. But Peter Parker, in my eyes, I will always remember the boy who cried asking me for ice cream.” She put on her smirk smile, her hands moving fast to mess up his hair.

He slapped her hand that made her giggle.

“It’s not like I hate you coming to my house? But what’s wrong with that pouted face Peter?”

Peter heavily sighed; this time, he threw his body to the couch. He crossed his arms and pouted.

“Aww, ~~ What's it, partner? If you keep sighing, you will get older.”

“Urgh,” Peter rests his head on her shoulder. “When can I have a job that doesn't relate to guns?”

"You can."

Peter lifts his head to get a look at her. "How?"

"Die first."

"Thanks (Y/N)."

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulder, "You can't get rid of it. It's already in your DNA."

She pinches Peter's cheeks. "Why do you sound sarcastic today?" Usually, every time he came into her house, she could see flowers behind him. Now the background changes into grumpy Squidward.

Peter’s face still on the pillow, he grumbles, "You shouldn’t come to my work today."

"Why not? I'm worried about you."

"Pietro has been asking me about you."

"He knew I'm related to you?" (Y/N) seems surprised.

Peter nodded. "He noticed on my first day."

"He's good."

"But today…. It's not only him." Peter grumbled.

(Y/N) still impressed about Pietro’s instinct, she didn’t hear Peter grumbled since he speaks to soft "What?"

He shook his head "Nothing."

"Are you going to have a sleepover?"

Peter has been living in his place since he graduates from university. Before he said anything (Y/N), grab his hand. "Please… I'm tired eating delivery also instant mac&cheeseeeee~."

Peter shook his head; who would even think a former assassin like (Y/N) could act like a child because of food.

####

To explain the relationship between Peter and (Y/N); both are not related by blood. (Y/N) knew him because of his mother, and she met him when she was an assassin.

And a deadly one.

Why did she leave?

Because of Peter.

Something happened that made (Y/N) choose to burn everything from her past to the ground literally. She made quite a name in the underworld.

####

"Fine." He answered that made (Y/N) raised her arms to cheer.

"But only for today though, because my new housemate is coming." said Peter while he went to the fridge to get some ingredients.

(Y/N) looking at his back, the boy in front of him acts more mature than her. Time moved so fast the first time she met him; he asked her for a piggyback, cried when she didn't give him ice cream and blamed her when he's the one who broke his mother's favorite plate.

And now, he is almost taller than her, independent, better at cooking and moving out from their luxury home.

(Y/N) puts her chin on her palm. "I don't understand why you need to move out." She doesn't want to tell the truth that she misses him.

Peter already started cutting the vegetables. He had a reason why he moved out; somehow (Y/N) past will come to hunt and target her.

####

Peter knew everything about her and saw it. He could live with it, but he couldn't sleep every time he heard a gun, a sound of grunting because of the stabbing, and in the morning, he saw their house destroyed with bullet holes and destroyed furniture.

They have to move a couple of times.

He never saw any blood and dead bodies, (Y/N) top priorities were to get rid of the blood and bodies before he sees it.

Peter knew that she understood his reason why; he could see her teary eyes when he told her he wanted to move out. She felt guilty for all the things he had been going through because of her.

But it takes two to tango. Peter was the one who asked to stay beside her before she dropped him with his aunt May Parker on that day.

What (Y/N) said was right; it’s already in his DNA. Danger always follows him because of his mother.

His mother used to be an assassin like (Y/N) until she met his father. She left everything to build a family together.

But their happy life was cut short; one day, he lost his parents, and that's the first time he saw the dark side of (Y/N) and the first time he knew what revenge is.

####

"I met someone." Peter answer.

"Owww~ My brother is a man now~."

Peter looked at her through his shoulder.

She nodded her head multiple times. "I understand you need privacy."

"But use protection okay?"

"Ugh,(Y/N)!! Seriously…?"

(Y/N) laughed while putting her hands on it defensively. "Sorry, I will stop it."

After 30 minutes, both of them finally eat dinner together.

"Someone else beside Pietro also asked about you."

"Hmm."

"You knew who it was don't you?"

(Y/N) winked at him.

She knew it must be Steve because it is obvious he tries to flirt with her, and she gave him her phone number. She made a program if someone put specific keywords along with her fake name, she would get notified. (Y/N) only tell her real name to someone that she could fully trust.

She must admit he almost got her, with the help from Starks, the other genius, but she's better at hiding.-

"You planned to make him more curious about you right?"

"You're getting smarter Peter." (Y/N) want to meet Steve once again. Today the moment she saw his face, it looked like a cheesy chick flick movie.

She could replay the moment he approached her. And when he tried to be cool to say 'Hi' but failed, that was cute.

(Y/N) wasn’t planning to stay long at the restaurant today but she has to because she’s worried about Peter. Last night both of them went out to get dinner when they had back her old enemy try to target her. It failed since (Y/N) is much more powerful, but Peter’s shoulder got hit.

He said he was fine, but her heart clenched when she saw the blue bruise on his shoulder. Peter is a stubborn boy; he doesn’t want to make her worried. But she is; that’s why she chooses to stay to make sure he’s alright.

She didn’t regret staying since she met a gorgeous man today. Perhaps cupid plays its part.

Peter added, "He's a good boss, don't shock him."

"You make me look like a cold hearted bitch." (Y/N) scoffed.

Peter sighed. "The time when you were with Billy Russo?"

"It was brief, but we are cool."

"It's hard to believe when he sent his Anvil team to get you."

"Because of me, he learned that his team was weak. He even sent a letter thanking you and said let's meet again."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head; he wishes he wishes the best for Billy.

"The time with August Walker?"

"To be fair, I betrayed him, but hey, we got a free helicopter."

"Zemo?"

"Both of us agreed to break up, and he ended up married with his true love. Happy ending."

Peter sighed "(Y/N); the reason why I'm saying this is because everytime you broke up with your boyfriend, they would come after you." The aftermath is always messy.

"I love this job, and my new friend. Please don't mess this up." He makes it clear since he liked his new workplace; the first time he came for the interview, he knew something different.

####

How Peter ended up working in Steve Rogers’s business?

Peter’s previous boss closed the restaurant to enjoy retirement with his wife. He recommended Peter to try at Rogers.

Rogers restaurant has been known as a prestigious dining place. He thought his chance was small, but it turned out he passed with flying color. Wanda was impressed by the way he could keep up with her work ethic.

After working a few days, he realized Rogers is not just a regular restaurant.

Pietro interrogated him to get some info about (Y/N), and one more obvious reason he saw a gun under Vision blazer, why would a manager own a gun? Why?

Then (Y/N) told him the truth that his boss is a famous mobster in Brooklyn.

Peter sighed when he heard that; he thought he could start living like an average person.

####

"You knew me Peter." She put down the knife and fork, then sipped a glass of red wine.

"I'll listen to you. Besides, I quite like him."

Peter widened his eyes "You mean genuine like him right? Without any agenda?"

(Y/N) nodded, "Maybe he could be your future brother in law."

Peter immediately shivered to imagine Steve became his family. "Let's not think to far (Y/N)."

Unlike Peter, someone else already thinks of it.

Somewhere far away, in a secret mansion where Steve and others gathered.

Three of them sit around the table; Bucky and Sam were nervous while Steve is playing with the dagger.

Natasha is furious. "I knew someday Rumlow will make a fuss at our area and make a big mess. But what I don't understand is why I got a call from the fixer and then the interior design telling me they want an extra payment because we asked them to finish in a month?"

She already anticipated the surprise attack from Brock since he replaces Pierce. It’s nothing new for them.

She noticed that Steve doesn’t listen to her complaints "Did Brock hit Steve's head? It looks like he’s not listening to me.”

Sam bumped Bucky’s elbow to talk to his wife.

Bucky cleared his throat because his seat is near to her. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Honey, Uhm… so today, something else happened."

Natasha listened what her husband whispered to her, what she hear made her gasped "Pietro!! Bring out the vodka !!" She called out their favorite bartender.

"Wake him up," Nat told her husband, her head pointed at Steve.

Bucky threw a french fries from his plate at Steve.

It hit Steve’s cheeks, successfully got his attention. He realizes Natasha sits in front of him, and Pietro serves them vodka.

Sam shook his head; he silently murmured his boss also, his best friend is in lovesick right now.

"Ooh, something to celebrate?"

"Little white wolf told me you got lovestruck today?"

Bucky’s hand covers his red cheeks when his wife mentions his nickname while Sam pretends not to hear it.

"Yes." Steve admitted.

"Congrats.” Natasha smirked while asking him, “So... she's the reason why you want our restaurant to reopen next month?"

"Correct."

"Ow, interesting."

“What makes her unusual was, she’s the only guest that didn’t run when the fight happens.” Bucky said.

“She’s the one who gave him that dagger.” Sam added.

“And, we couldn’t find anything about her even with the help from Starks.”

Bucky and Sam told her everything; they told her with excitement like they found a discovery.

Natasha was immensely impressed when she heard that “Can’t wait to meet her.”

They wish Steve could find someone that can accept who he is. In the last relation he had, they tried to change him by asking him to leave the mobster. It ended up badly, making Steve became bitter about everything.

If this woman not afraid to see what happened today, perhaps she could accept who Steve is.

"Me too." Said Steve, his lips could reach his eyes. His eyes are still looking at the dagger, thinking that he has to impress her the next time they meet.

A/N: Dum Dum dum~~~~

The female reader turned out to be a retired assassin. At first, I want to make the reader be Peter’s godmother, but I don’t want her to be that old, so I change it to stepsister.

Thank you for all the likes, my new follower and for repost. I really appreciate it.

Please tell me if you want to be tagged for the next chapter.

>>>Chapter 3

Tag:

@cloudystevie,

@marce170018

@stepheewdgirlie

@juliealma1

@valhalla-kristin

#mob!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve #peter parker #cs4kwritingchallenge #Marvel AU #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n

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captcas · 3 years

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Screwed (A Destiel AU)

Screwed by capthamm (Part 1 of 2)

Dean inherits the old family inn and has to move home to fix it up for selling. When the work proves to be too much, he enlists in the town's only contractor's help– his neighbor, Castiel. Dean is short on time, stuck in a hometown riddled with old flames, and falling for the man who lives next door. He's screwed.

notes: I'm halfway through season 7 and missing Mr. Castiel on my screen so this poured out. I'm almost finished but here is part one. My first ever attempt in the Supernatural fan fiction world... please be kind. Thank to my lovely beta, Luke <3 (@bawley_bug) read on ao3

At this point, Dean’s left thumb had been hit by the hammer more than any of the nails and he was regretting every single choice he ever made that led him to this exact moment.

Why the fuck did he think he was cut out for restoring an inn? Not just any inn– the inn. The one John ran before he got too old and retired, eventually– well let’s just say Dean isn’t here out of any sort of living guilt.

Dean’s not sure why he’s here.

If he breaks it down, it’s because he received a letter in the mail exactly two months after the passing of his father detailing how Lawrence would have no choice but to tear down the old inn unless someone from his family claimed it.

Sam’s not going to leave his law practice and the life he built for Jess and the twins, out in California.

Dean’s the only one left.

So, taking things extremely literally, he’s here because a bunch of lawyers told him he needed to be.

Another slam into his thumb jolts his train of thought off its tracks and convinces him to pack it up for the night. He snaps the tools back into his massive toolkit and stands back to look at the old built-in shelves he decided would probably be the easiest to tackle on his own. Nodding at the good-enough outcome, he turns to scan the rest of the main floor.

Maybe the built-ins are the only thing he’s going to be able to do alone.

Dean doesn’t like the thought of teamwork– especially not with the grumpy prick who lives next door. His neighbor stopped by the day Dean arrived because apparently it was John’s dying wish that their neighbor offer his services when his estranged son eventually showed up to fix the inn. (Leave it to his father to leave Dean feeling inadequate from the great beyond.)

“No, thank you.” “Excuse me?” “You offered, I’m declining. Debt, paid.” "As you wish, Winchester.” Even wrapped in the neighbor’s deep lumbering voice, Dean winces at his last name– it feels just as constricting as it did when he thought he’d be stuck in this town forever, “Dean.” “Whatever.”

Dean thought that’d be the last he’d see of the guy until he marched away and slammed the door just across the small garden. That house used to be for whatever innkeeper his parents had hired, but when the inn closed they rented it out to whichever soul felt like a one bedroom one bathroom home was enough to live in.

Apparently that was this asshole.

They’ve seen each other three more times since then, but never long enough to even exchange names. Dean isn’t sure why he’s keeping track– each time just as unpleasant as the first. Sure, Dean could’ve been friendlier, but warning bells rattled through him every time the neighbor’s stormy eyes met his. Dean may have sworn off unnecessary human interaction for the foreseeable future, but he’s not blind and his neighbor isn’t hard to look at.

But his life has no room for attractive neighbors with an attitude problem.

Convincing himself there must be someone else in this town who knows their way around a fixer upper, Dean heads to the Roadhouse for dinner and hopefully the name of someone else to help him get the inn fixed up enough to sell.

Walking through the front door of the restaurant-meets-dive-bar, the familiar smell hits him like a breath of fresh air. He can’t believe he held out for almost a week before eating here. The Roadhouse is one of the few places left in the town left untouched by rotten memories and painful nostalgia. Nothing but good ever happens once he crosses this threshold and it’s that fact that allows him to relax for the first time since moving back to Lawrence.

He starts to order his usual and Jo winks signaling she remembers even after all these years– Dean can’t believe she runs this on her own now. Jo always swore she’d get out of this town, break the chains of her mother’s legacy, but nevertheless here she is– here they both are.

Jo looks happy, maybe even at home– Dean? Not so much.

The plate drops in front of him and Dean catches his old friend lingering a bit. He looks up and says thank you and that was all it took to spark some small town gossip from Jo. While he didn’t come back to rekindle any old relationships– friendly or otherwise– Dean doesn’t mind her company and before he knows it he’s laughing and taking his last bite of burger. The conversation starts to die and Dean remembers why he came to town in the first place, “Oh! Jo, I meant to ask. I’m fixing up the old inn and I need help. Do you have the number of someone who–”

“Of course, Dean! Chuck retired, but Castiel took over, after Gabriel ran off to Thailand.” Dean raises his eyebrow and Jo laughs, “ That’s a story for another meal. Here,” she hands over a napkin with a number scrawled across it, “Castiel is the best in town and will fix up that inn in no time.”

Castiel.

Dean racks his brain for any recollection of someone named Castiel from their childhood but the name doesn’t ring a bell— and a name like that definitely would ring a bell. He supposes people must move to Lawrence, just like any town, and resigns it to someone new since he left.

He can’t expect everything to stay the same while he spent the last 15 years trying to change in every way imaginable.

Thanking his friend for the help, Dean pays and heads home for the night. Finally having the name of someone to help has lifted a huge weight off his chest. He sighs as he crawls onto the old mattress in the first floor suite, thankful it’s dark enough that he can’t nitpick all that needs to be done. The sooner he can get the inn fixed up, the sooner he can sell it and go back to Sioux Falls and the life he chose rather than the one his parents forced on him.

Maybe it was the comfort of the Roadhouse or the knowledge that this process will move twice as fast with a little help, but Dean sleeps better that night than he has in years. When he wakes with the sun, he feels energized and ready to continue his work on his family’s property.

He decides to start with disassembling the kitchen cabinets and it doesn’t take long for him to find a rhythm in his work— four screws and a trip to the pile, four screws, trip to the pile. Lost in the easy monotony, Dean forgets his decision to call for help until late into the morning. Hoping to catch the contractor before lunch, he brushes the dust from his hands and digs in his pocket for the napkin Jo had written on last night.

He’s not sure why he feels so anxious as he waits for the man on the other end of the line to pick up, but he supposes it rests on the fact that this man only knows Dean by the reputation he left town with— John’s other son.

Sam was always the golden child— pretty blonde cheerleaders and a full-ride to Stanford are not even an exaggeration when it comes to his younger brother.

Dean, on the other hand, was always rough around the edges, emotional, and different — let’s just say he’d go for the cheerleader or the quarterback.

As soon as Dean was shoved out of the closet— his dad walking in on him and Benny not leaving very much up for debate— John shut him out completely. Dean brushed it off as his dad’s way of fighting every piece of homophobia he was raised with, but the fact is: it was more likely he was disgusted by his own son.

But that was ages ago and, from what Sam’s told him, John died swearing his love for both his boys.

Not that Sam would tell Dean otherwise.

“Hello?” A gruff voice breaks him out of his daze and he’s startled back to the present day.

“Uh, hi. Yeah, uh, is this Castiel?” It’s the first time Dean’s said the name aloud and he can’t help but notice how easily it rolls off his tongue.

“This is. How can I help you?” The man is all business, clearly not as affected by Dean’s use of his name as Dean was.

“Oh yeah, uh, I got your name from Jo at the Roadhouse? My name is Dean Winchester and I’m fixing up the old Winchester Inn and I’m realizing the job may be too massive to handle on my own.” Dean winces at his blatant request for help, never one to ask outright for assistance, but as he looks at the pile of kitchen cabinets which need to be sanded, painted, and rehung, he knows he can’t do this alone. He realizes the man on the other end of the line hasn’t said anything when he continues, “Uh, that is if you have the bandwidth for that…”

Another pause before the man, Castiel, speaks again, “I can be right over.”

Dean didn’t really know how to respond, he was expecting to bargain for payment or at least for a delay in starting the project. He’s not used to this immediate willingness to help a complete stranger. He’s about to stumble through a response when he realizes Castiel is no longer on the other end of the phone. He shrugs, and sets it on the counter as there’s a knock on the door.

Shit. The only way Castiel could’ve gotten here that fast is if he’s...

Dean opens the door to the man he’s now seen a mere four times despite his permanent residence on Dean’s property. His neighbor— Castiel— looks different today. The usual softness that accompanies the man overtaken by strong arms, an AC/DC t-shirt, and a tool belt placed perfectly on his hips.

Whoa, Dean.

“Uh, hi?” Dean isn’t sure how one goes about re-introducing themselves to apparently the only help in town after being an ass before. But he’s here and Dean introduced himself on the phone and he still came.

“Hello.” The man– Castiel– greets Dean so matter of factly as he glances around Dean quizzically, presumably taking in the whole of the inn. Dean is a little taken aback by this whole interaction and the way it’s entirely different than any they’ve shared previously. Castiel’s eyes meet Dean’s and Dean can’t help but notice a hint of playfulness before Castiel speaks again, “So you do need help?”

Dean rolls his eyes and Castiel laughs sending a shockwave through Dean he hasn’t felt in ages. He promptly ignores it before motioning towards the foyer and inviting his new contractor inside. They don’t exchange any pleasantries, but rather head right to work. Castiel asks questions about everything from the crown molding and stair railing to Dean’s plan for the half shattered French doors.

The man is thorough and he knows his stuff.

Maybe teamwork with him won’t be so bad.

They finish their walk through and Dean is relieved to hear that Castiel agrees the upstairs mostly needs some fresh paint. John left some money to fix up the inn, but not enough for a total overhaul. After working through the budget, they decide it’ll be more cost effective if it retains its original charm.

“Well, Dean, I like what we’ve got here and I think we can make something out of this.” Castiel slouches into one of the bar stools near the kitchen island as he surveys the room one more time. Dean does his best not to notice the sweat slowly making its way down Castiel’s collar bone and beneath the collar of his t-shirt, and the way he says Dean, and his implication that this is theirs . Dean hasn’t shared anything for most of his adult life– mostly because he hasn’t had anyone worth sharing something with.

But this inn feels like it’s meant to be shared, and Dean can’t seem to find any reason not to do so with Castiel.

“I’m glad you think so. I suppose we should discuss payment…” Dean trails off as Castiel’s gaze becomes confused.

“I don’t intend on charging you a dime, Dean.” Castiel’s matter of fact smile returns and Dean can’t ignore the way his gut flutters.

He’s not a nun, Dean’s been attracted to people for as long as he can remember being alive. From Lucy Jones in kindergarten to a myriad of characters in his adult life, he’s always been a people person loaded with an innate attraction for the kind of itches you scratch and forget ever existed.

Castiel is beginning to feel like an itch he’d like to scratch.

But that’d ruin everything, especially Dean’s plan to sell the inn for as much as humanly possible and then get the hell outta dodge.

“I appreciate that, but I have to give you something…” Castiel waves Dean off and he realizes arguing would be useless. “Thanks.”

Castiel nods before taking time to study Dean until it almost feels awkward. Dean is typically the one doing the studying, and he feels naked under this man’s gaze. They remain in a silence delicately balanced between comfortable and awkward until Castiel speaks again, “Well, best I get back to my place. I will see you tomorrow morning, Dean.”

As Castiel stands, he adjusts the toolbelt around his waist and Dean forces himself to look away, not willing to tempt himself with the flash of skin exposed during the adjustment. The contractor must notice because he smirks slightly before nodding his head in goodbye. If he didn’t know better, Dean would swear Castiel walks a bit closer to him than is necessary. He shakes it off before heading to the bathroom to shower off the grime of the day before checking in with Sam, Jess, and the kids.

. . .

They work surprisingly well together.

His new partner is a quiet but sturdy presence throughout the day– rarely chatting about more than the weather or whatever task needs to be done– but on occasion Dean will learn a bit more about him. He’s started to compile a list of Cas’s likes and dislikes– for example, Cas likes that Dean gave him a nickname.

“Hey, Cas, can you hand me the socket wrench?” "Cas?” “Uh, yeah, short for Castiel. You got too many syllables, man.”

Cas nodded and moved on with the task, but Dean can’t help but notice the small smirk everytime he has to call Cas by name. Cas also smiles whenever a screw goes in without a fight and when the first raindrop of an impending storm hits his forehead.

Dean likes it when Cas smiles. (Apparently Dean’s compiled a list for that, too.)

He’s tried to largely ignore the growing attraction for the man he’s working with for more than eight hours a day, but it gets more difficult with each glance to make sure the other is still in one piece and every accidental touch of hands when they pass off a tool.

At least Dean tells himself it’s accidental.

He hadn’t gotten enough out of Cas to even know if he “plays for that team,” as Sam likes to say. Dean is almost positive John wouldn’t have encouraged the two work together if Cas is gay, but there are moments that give him more hope that he deserves.

“Dean!” Cas’s steady voice startles him from the monotony of painting kitchen cabinets and his overflowing thoughts.

He puts down the paintbrush and walks over to the fireplace where Cas is supposed to be sanding down the mantle, “Yeah, Cas, what is it?” There’s that smile– sometimes Dean wonders if he uses his nickname for Cas just to get a glimpse of it.

“I’m hungry and I’m out of sand paper.” Cas looks up from the stool he’s been sitting on for hours with a hint of puppy dog eyes. Dean isn’t exactly paying Cas so he could definitely come and go as he pleases, but they tend to stick to a similar schedule everyday. Checking his watch, Dean sees it is lunchtime and agrees to head into town for a sandwich.

“I should probably get cleaned up a bit…” Cas trails off as he surveys his dusty jeans and sweat drenched t-shirt. Without trying to, Dean gets lost in the unfairly attractive mess of it all for a moment too long. He looks up to speak again and Cas is smirking almost knowingly.

Shit.

“Yeah, sure. You can use the shower here if you want but no promise there’s any hot water.” Dean scratches behind his ear nervously. This wasn’t any sort of purposeful invitation, but he can’t help but feel a wad of want fall into his stomach. Cas simply nods his thanks before heading into the main floor bathroom with a change of clothes he brought “just in case”. Dean laughed when Cas told him that he’s always that prepared and cited the fact that Cas only lives thirty steps away from the inn. He simply shrugged and said “You never know” and that was the end of that. Dean supposes Cas was right and the change of clothes had come in handy.

Though, not exactly how Dean thought they would.

As he hears the shower turn on, Dean goes back to painting kitchen cabinets in hopes of distracting himself from the very attractive, very naked man that is showering in the next room. It works for a while but eventually the knowledge feels stifling and Dean decides to clean up quickly and wait for Cas on the porch.

“What’re you waiting out here for?” Cas walks outside, resting his arm on the doorframe to only accentuate his bicep muscles. Dean knows if he looks at what is probably disheveled and wet hair from the shower it’ll take every piece of willpower he has not to jump the guy right then and there.

“Let’s go.” He leads Cas to his car without looking in his direction or answering his question. As Dean walks around the back of the impala he sees Cas smirk again.

Bastard.

They take the short drive into town before stopping at the hardware store. Dean needs to pick up some new screws so he can finish the cabinets and Cas needs some more sand paper so they decide to split up and grab what they need. Cas cuts right, beelining for the aisle like he lives here– now that Dean thinks about it, Cas probably does come here a lot– and Dean wanders to the left looking for the screw aisle.

He ends up finding them along with a confused pre-teen boy comparing screw sizes to an outlet cover. Dean laughs to himself before offering his help, “Anything I can help with?”

The boy turns to Dean, startled at first, but then relaxing when he doesn’t sense any immediate threat, “Yeah, that’d be great. My mom sent me in here twenty minutes ago, but I don’t know anything about this stuff.”

Dean laughs, “Well, your Dad should’ve taught you screw shopping at the very least.”

“How could he do that when he doesn’t know I exist?” The kid says it so matter of factly, Dean isn’t even sure he heard him correctly. He scans him for signs of distress, but whatever therapy he’s getting must’ve worked because the kid goes back to comparing screws without missing a beat.

“Fair enough. Here, you’ll want these ones,” Dean grabs a four pack of the screws the kid is looking for and hands it to him. “Then you’ll have extras in case you need to replace another one.”

“Awesome, thanks! My names–”

“Ben? What’s taking you–” Dean winces, he’d know that voice anywhere and the fact she paused means… “Dean?! What are you doing talking to… what’s going on here?”

“Mom!”

“Lisa…”

Ben (apparently) and Dean speak at the same time, both turning towards the woman Dean hasn’t thought about in years. They were something– more than something– for about a year, but John’s pressure pushed Dean out of town and Lisa refused to leave Lawrence... so now they're here, awkwardly looking at each other in a hardware store.

“Lisa, look, I can explain–”

“Dean, I found the sandpaper and I also grabbed some extra paint for that wall in the living–” Dean’s cut off as Cas rounds the corner looking down at the sandpaper packaging and clearly missing all the fun in aisle nine, “Oh. Hi!”

Then Cas waves , an adorable wave that if Dean wasn’t so goddamn turned around probably would’ve sent him spiraling. Dean facepalms to hide his smile and proceeds to rub his calloused hands through his hair trying to decide what to say next. But Ben must be oblivious to the absolute shit storm happening a foot above his current height because he chooses this moment to chime in, “I was confused about which screws to get and Dean offered to help, Mom. That’s all. And look,” Ben holds up the package Dean handed him what feels like an eternity ago, “Got ‘em!”

That kid just saved Dean’s ass.

Lisa still looks a little stunned to see Dean– his return had seemingly not reached the far ends of the town gossip chain quite yet– but then she glances back towards Cas… and then back to Dean.

He’s about to correct her when she surprises him with a hug.

They didn’t exactly end on bad terms, but he probably could’ve been nicer when he told her he was leaving.

Hence why the hug catches him off guard, as does what she quietly whispers in his ear, “I’m glad you found someone that makes you smile like that again.”

Dean can't even formulate a correction before Lisa’s telling Ben to thank Dean for his help and the pair is heading down the other end of the aisle. He turns towards Cas who is staring intensely at a speck on the floor by his feet, but seems to be smiling all the same.

Maybe Dean isn’t wrong about him.

They check out and head back to the Impala in silence. It isn’t until they get home after swinging through the drive thru that Dean even realizes he forgot to grab the screws.

#Destiel #destiel ff #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #castiel owns my soul #where the fuck did destiel come from?#capthamm #please be kind I've only watched halfway through season 7

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daresplaining · 4 years

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[ID: Excerpt from Lee’s Daredevil run. Jack Murdock is boxing with a blond-haired opponent in front of a large crowd. College-age Matt and Foggy are cheering him on from the sidelines.]

Jack: “The Fixer said I have to take a dive in the first round tonight! But my boy’s here tonight, to root for his dad! I’ve always trained him to do his best... I can’t disappoint him now!”

Fixer: “Murdock! You fool! Take it easy! What are you doin’?! If you’re tryin’ to double-cross me, you’ll live to regret it! You’re supposed to dive now... hear? Dive!”

Foggy: “He’s winnin’, Matt! Your dad’s pulverizing him!”

Matt: “(I know it! I can follow the fight perfectly, by hearing the sound of each blow, each footstep!)”

Jack: “It’s my one chance! ...Maybe my last chance... to do something to make my son proud of me! I’m not gonna fail him! I’m gonna win... do ya hear... I’m gonna win!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #1 by Stan Lee, Bill Everett, and Sam Rosen

This is unprompted by anything, but since it’s on my mind, I wanted to discuss it:

There’s a conversation that can be had about Jack’s decision to not throw his final fight, and whether or not it was a responsible thing to do. On the one hand, it was a powerful move that symbolically shaped the rest of Matt’s life. Jack makes the decision to stand up for his morals, and for himself, and with his son cheering for him, he does the impossible and wins a fight everyone told him he had to lose. This type of persistence against incredible odds is a major Daredevil motif. Jack’s decision to stand up to the Fixer and his cronies aligns with the bullying themes that exist throughout Matt’s origin story, and is reflected afterward by Matt’s decision to take that same stand and become a superhero. It’s also a beautiful, emotional depiction of a man who has struggled his entire life and finally achieves a sense of self-worth and empowerment. Jack’s final fight is a powerful picture of heroism, and this is why it is such a frequently-referenced moment in DD history.

But it also got Jack killed, and-- and this is the tricky bit-- he presumably knew it would. Jack was born and raised in a neighborhood dominated by organized crime. Whether or not you subscribe to the version of continuity in which he was blackmailed into working as a mob enforcer for a while, it’s a clear fact that Jack, having grown up in this environment, would have a sense of how gangsters operated, which means knowing what happens to those who anger them. While the earliest versions of the story (in Daredevil #1 and #53) gloss over the actual conversation between Jack and the Fixer before the big fight, Roger McKenzie spells it right out in his retelling in #164:

[ID: Excerpt from McKenzie’s Daredevil run. Jack Murdock is working out in a gym in nothing but short shorts (I swear...) when two gangster-looking men in fedoras come in. One (the Fixer) is short, the other is tall.]

Fixer: “Jackie boy, you been workin’ too hard. You ought’a take it easy. Real easy. So easy you lose your next fight, know what I mean?”

Jack: “Why, you lousy little--! I never threw a fight in my life! I sure as hell ain’t gonna start now!”

[ID: Jack tries to punch the Fixer, but the tall gangster grabs his wrist.]

Fixer: “Jackie boy, you either take a dive... or you’re a dead man!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #164 by Roger McKenzie, Frank Miller, and Glynis Wein

Jack knows the stakes: if he doesn’t throw the match, he’ll be killed. Entering into this impossible situation is part of the tragedy of his story. He was previously aware of the Fixer by reputation, and avoided having anything to do with him until he had no other option. For Matt’s sake, Jack sacrifices both his morals and his personal safety by agreeing to associate with a manager who is known within the boxing community to be crooked and dangerous.

[ID: Two panels from Thomas’s Daredevil run. In the first, Jack is walking down the street, away from the viewer, with his hands in his pockets. In the next he is in the office of a boxing manager, leaning over his desk. The manager is lighting a cigar.]

Jack: “I’m too old... haven’t been able to land a fight in weeks! But, I’ve got to keep fightin’... till Matt gets thru college! I owe him that!”

Matt (caption): “Finally, in desperation, Dad made a fatal decision...”

Guy: “Sorry, Murdock... but the only guy who’ll manage a has-been like you is... the Fixer!”

Jack: “The Fixer! I always swore to steer clear of a guy with his reputation! But now I’ve got no choice... I have to get a fight!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #53 by Roy Thomas, Gene Colan, and Artie Simek

But in spite of this knowledge, Jack also shows a surprising degree of naivete in this situation. He’s a good person, maybe a little too trusting, maybe not quite as street smart as he ought to be. He is a victim, toyed with by people who are happy to prey on his earnestness and desperation. Despite being aware of how shady the Fixer is, Jack is still shocked to learn that his fights are being fixed, and affronted by the suggestion that he would agree to take part in that deception. But even so, once the situation becomes clear to him, he does know that the consequences will be dire for him if he refuses to throw the fight. For Jack, deciding to welcome those consequences and finding the strength to actually win the fight is a personal victory, but there’s an uncomfortable grey area within that decision, because by choosing to set a moral example for his son in spite of the risk, he is also choosing to abandon Matt.

[ID: Excerpt from the Battlin’ Jack Murdock mini-series. Jack is in an alley, getting beaten up by several gangsters in fedoras. His face is bloody. One of the gangsters, Slade, holds a handgun to Jack’s head.]

Slade: “You ain’t scared, huh, tough guy?! Maybe after we’re done with you, we’ll go get your boy. Maybe we’ll make him deaf and dumb too! Whaddaya think about that, Murdock? You think we should go see your boy?”

Jack: “Heh heh. You... you do that. Ha. You go see my boy. Ha ha ha!”

Daredevil: Battlin’ Jack Murdock #4 by Zeb Wells and Carmine Di Giandomenico

The Battlin’ Jack Murdock mini-series makes an effort to break down Jack’s mindset regarding this decision. Ultimately, it resorts to using a retcon (or at least, an addition to the canon not seen elsewhere) to justify Jack’s actions: Jack discovers Matt’s fighting abilities shortly before the match, and goes to his death safe in the knowledge that his son can take care of himself. I like this plot point just because the idea of Jack discovering Matt’s secret is fun to consider. But it doesn’t really work to smooth over this wrinkly bit of characterization, because a parent’s concern for their child’s wellbeing usually goes further than just “can my kid physically defend themself against possible future retribution stemming from my actions?”. Jack’s “Oh phew, Matt’s a badass!” doesn’t, I feel, go deep enough. Without Jack, Matt only has one other significant person in his life at this point: Foggy. And that does end up being enough-- Foggy’s support gets him through the initial anguish of losing his father, and Matt graduates college and builds a successful life for himself-- but it still looks a lot like selfishness. Jack may be trying to set a moral example for Matt by winning the fight, but what good is that when it’s a decision that ends up harming them both? Jack may be willing to die for the sake of taking a stand, but shouldn’t Matt, who is forced to suffer the emotional toll of losing his father, have a say in that decision too?

Jack wins that fight for himself and for the message it sends to Matt. This is firmly established. But what is also firmly established is that Jack would have done anything for Matt. He sacrificed everything to give his child the best life he could, and for a long time, the two of them only had each other. Jack certainly made mistakes, but it seems wrong to think that he would willingly choose to leave Matt alone. It is possible to read this moment as Jack deciding that Matt is ready to be left alone-- he was in college, well on his way to adulthood and independence, he had a caring best friend, and thus Jack felt safe in letting Matt go off on his own. I think that’s part of what Battlin’ Jack Murdock was trying to get at, and I do certainly think that was a factor. But I also believe strongly in the sheer emotional force of that moment in the ring when Jack made his fateful choice.

[ID: Excerpt from the Daredevil: Yellow mini-series. Jack, in the ring, punches his opponent in the face while Matt and Foggy cheer him on from the sidelines.]

Matt: “Take him, Dad!”

Announcer: “Unbelievable! ‘Southpaw’ Jack Murdock has floored Creel with a hard right to the jaw!”

Daredevil: Yellow #1 by Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale

I want nothing more than to give Jack the benefit of the doubt, and my personal interpretation of the decision is that there was no forethought involved. Jack goes into this fight angry and horribly conflicted, and then in the heat of it all he realizes he can win, he hears Matt cheering for him, and he just goes for it, unleashing a lifetime of grief and frustration, determined to behave heroically in front of the son who means more to him than his own life. Maybe, in the elation of the moment, he convinces himself that he’ll be able to handle the Fixer’s retribution, or maybe he no longer cares one way or the other. But it’s such a visceral scene that for me, I’m convinced that emotion was the main driving factor behind Jack’s decision.

#Daredevil #Jack Murdock #Commentary #Some thoughts about Jack that nobody asked for.

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spneveryseason · 4 years

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Okaaayy thank u!! I’ve been wanting to talk about this with someone 😁 I’ll tell you my opinions, please let me know if you think I’m too off or w/e. Sorry this is so long!

First, about Amelia and the "gap year": I thought Sam’s reaction to s7 finale was just bad writing, but now I think it’s interesting that he flipped out and drove until he ran over a dog and had an emotional breakdown over it. I’m sure Sam is no stranger to roadkill, so his reaction kinda struck me... But I really like the theme of Ame and Sam licking each other’s wounds, and Riot the dog being a symbol of that attempt at taking responsibility for a stray after you run them over emotionally, but... the thing is… the thing that ran Ame and Sam over were not each other; but the sudden loss of their companions…

I also like/think it’s very sad that Sam is so sober and honest about that relationship; he meets Don and he immediately accepts things are over, like deep down he always knew it was temporary. The first time Sam ran from his family he planned it, ended up in a trailer with Bones and some pizza, second time he planned it, went to Stanford on full scholarship; this time he just got the car and drove and didn’t try very hard… I was a little shocked that the writers apparently forgot about Riot the dog, we have no idea what happened to that Good Boy so far, but I also think that’s so symbolic of what Sam went through. None of it was real. S7 finale was not a reset and not an ending, there was no closure at all, Sam was never going to live in a house with a partner and a dog, and it just seems like he knew it. That’s why I also really liked/was devastated by that scene where he sleeps with Amelia again and she’s like “talk to me” and he’s just brooding n says “do you want me to say it was great? A mistake?”, bc he’s already Gone. He knows he’s either gonna hit the road or go back to Dean, but actually cutting ties and building a life with Amelia is impossible. Riot disappears lmao! I HC that Ame gave him away too tbh. I love that her father calls Sam a Fixer Upper, implying he’s trying to fix Ame up, and then a couple hours later he’s like, Amelia he’s a mess!!

Second: This is a Sam blog, but some thoughts on Dean: I’m thinking about how hard he runs away from having to apologize for anything he does ever; he blames Sam and throws a lot of crap on him for going blip while he was in Purgatory, and Sam just takes it? When they make up Dean says, “okay, I understand now that you weren’t just partying, I understand Amelia meant something to you” and it’s like dgvbhdsnjsd Dean that’s not the issue… Sam had a clean breakup and closure with Amelia, he’s not mourning the relationship he had with her, he’s mourning YOUR relationship with his falling 2 pieces because you keep lying and guilt-tripping and manipulating him… But IMO Dean knows, that’s why he “breaks up” with Benny. I think deep down it’s just an emotionally comfortable space to keep the relationship in terms of “I invalidate you so you strive harder for me and then I validate you as a reward” - I don’t mean this in a malicious way, Dean has as many self-worth issues as Sam has, which I think is why he’s desperate to call the shots on who’s family, who’s ok to mourn(, who rides SHOTGUN IN THE IMPALA lmao that episode with the looney tunes was so much)… Like, I think so far this has been the most 100% resigned I’ve ever seen Sam act towards being the Winchester he’s supposed to be (which is also why that episode with Henry Winchester screaming LEGACY at them tickled me a little, but in a bad way), and Dean keeps acting SUPER offended nonetheless... IMO it’s consistent with Dean feeling more in control when he can dangle the carrot stick of validating Sam in front of him… Because he’s really that desperate. I don’t think he seriously ever considered leaving Sam behind either. Even when he’s possessed by the angry specter, he’s more concerned about calling Sam out. He doesn’t say “I’m angry because I have to stick with you”, he says “I’m angry because you let me down” (as he perceives it)

IMO, that gets dealt with in the first trial episode when Dean is like “aaah my dream is me dying so you get the american dream life” was heartwarming, but also a little 😬😬 bc it really drove home to me that Dean knows his validation matters. Sam is a 30yo 6.4ft man and Dean gives him his blessing to be a Normie and not die heroically with him. But Sam NEVER asked Dean to sacrifice himself, this is a pattern that keeps repeating since early seasons. Sam wants a brother, not a sacrifice. Sam doesn’t (usually) want to be either at Dean’s pedestal or in Dean’s trashcan lmao. Dean has a hard time grasping that, I think because he doesn't want to grasp it, cause then he loses emotional leverage (and also he grew up living like that with John, I think). But that’s why the ending of that episode was soooo great when Sam is like “I see a light at the end of the tunnel, please let me show you!” Sounds like he really wants Dean BY HIS SIDE, on the same level.

I know some spoilers, like the trials are fake and heaven gets Wrecked at the end, but I’m still curious to see how this will develop! And I think rewatching 15.20* after this will be interesting, too, because I thiiink it’s a mirror of this situation (Dean sacrifices himself so Sam can have a life) but instead of dictating to Sam what’s going to happen, he asks SAM to validate him, to tell him it’s okay. Ooohh my god I hate those brothers 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Stupid Winchestersss 😭😭

* though this definitely convinced me I have to watch all the seasons I skipped, so it will take a while to get there hahaha sob

#s8 anon #submitted to me #submission

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shotgun--rider · 4 years

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Fake It Till You Make It - One

A Sam x Reader Series

PART ONE

Y/N knows it’s a bad idea to try telling her family that she’s dating Sam Winchester. But it’s just for the week of her sister’s wedding, and it’s all fake anyway. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: plus size! Reader, background Destiel for a hot sec, fatphobic comments, Y/N’s family are demons

A/N: Has this trope probably been done five million times? Yes. Am I about to do it again? Yes.

Your cellphone rang and you grimaced, rolling your eyes as you took in Dean’s all-too-amused expression. Your best friend may have thought your situation was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but that didn’t mean you were of the same opinion.

“What?” you snapped out, not bothering to read the caller ID. Who else would be calling you for the fifth time in as many hours?

“Well that’s not a very nice way to greet your mother.”

Here you went again, the same thing over and over. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “What do you want now, Mom?”

Bent over something under Baby’s hood, Dean snorted, shamelessly listening to your half of the conversation. He could probably hear your mother too, you thought wryly. The woman was certainly loud enough.

“Well, listen, honey,” your mother began. “I was just talking to Jimmy...you remember Jimmy? From down the street, you used to--”

“Yes, Mom, I remember Jimmy.” you said tiredly. “Why do we care about Jimmy?” Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

“For the wedding! I just asked, and Jimmy agreed to come with you.”

You let out an alarmed noise before you could stop yourself. “Mom, no.” you said firmly, with an undercurrent of panic at the thought of being trailed around by awkward Jimmy for a week. “I know it’s hard to imagine,” you drawled sarcastically, “but the vows will still be successful if I’m there without a plus one. Not like I’m the one getting married, you know.”

Still focused on the Impala, Dean’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter. You seized the apple core you’d been munching on earlier and chucked it at him, feeling marginally better when it bounced off of his back.

“Y/N L/N! You should be a little more grateful. Besides, have you even thought about how it’s going to look to Dick if you show up alone?”

“I don’t care,” you said automatically. “He’s a dick, pun absolutely intended.”

“He’s marrying your sister.”

“At least it’s not me.”

“That miserable attitude is exactly why you’re going to die alone, young lady,” your mother snipped. “You could at least make an effort. Maybe if you just lost some weight--”

“Yeah, okay Mom.” You hung up the phone before she could get another word in, immediately flopping back onto Dean’s front lawn in defeat. “If I ever get married, it’s going to be in Vegas with Elvis, and nobody is going to know about it.” Not that you would. Given your complete inability to keep a boyfriend for longer than two months and your habit of getting hung up on guys who were completely out of your league, marriage, or a relationship of any kind didn’t seem to be in the cards.

“Who’s Jimmy?” Dean’s green eyes were sparkling with mischief, and you let out a groan, smoothing out the skirt of your sundress as you sat back up to answer him.

“Straight-laced, awkward, kind of greasy. Went to high school with me.” You wrinkled your nose. “My mother is really scraping the bottom of the barrel. She’d throw a fit if I actually tried to bring him home. But apparently Jimmy is a better temporary solution than being single while my sister marries my ex.” You trailed off into silence, your hand pulling absently at a few strands of grass in your best friend’s front lawn. “Maybe I should just rent a boyfriend to shut her up. That’s a thing, right? Like a non-sexual escort.”

“If you’re going to the trouble, you should also get the sex,” Dean returned, still smirking at you as he wiped grease off his hands. “Or you could take me. I would make the best fake boyfriend. And I’m free if you feed me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing at the mental image. “My mom knows you have a boyfriend,” you sighed. “Which, believe me, is a great source of sadness to her every single day.”

Dean laughed loudly, both of you glancing toward the house as the screen door swung open. “Maybe we broke up,”

“Well, she still doesn’t understand the concept of bisexuality, so as far as she’s concerned, you’d still be gay.” You rolled your eyes, long since over your mother’s narrow-minded opinions.

“Who’s gay?” Castiel inquired vaguely, making his way over to the flowerbeds.

“Dean is,” you pointed out helpfully, prompting a wide-eyed stare from Cas.

“Really? Dean, you should have told me!”

When you’d first met Dean’s new boyfriend, he’d been stiff and absolutely useless at sarcasm. It was always nice to see yours and Dean’s combined efforts working.

“D’you want me to ask Sammy?”

You were still laughing at Cas’s antics, and snapped your head back to Dean so fast that you were positive something popped in your neck. “W-what?”

“I can ask Sam if he’s free that week,” Dean repeated, looking at you like he thought you were stupid. “If you want,”

You blinked, irrational panic running through you at the thought of Dean’s younger, perfect, brother.

“It’ll shut your mom up,” Dean went on, oblivious. “Sammy wouldn’t mind.”

“Dean, I barely ever see Sam,” you protested after an awkward pause. A fact that was quite devastating, actually, not that you’d ever admit to your hopeless crush on the younger Winchester.

Your best friend and his boyfriend shared a look. “That’s because he’s a hopeless do-gooder on top of being a hotshot lawyer,” Dean said fondly. “But I bet we could talk him out of taking a bunch of free cases for a week,”

Walking into your sister’s wedding with Sam Winchester on your arm sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. On the other hand, it would shut your mother up. She’d been vocal in her fears of you dying alone since you’d been barely out of college, sending you links to weight-loss workout videos and advertising her fixer-upper daughter to single men in the grocery store for years. Sam’s presence might even serve to stave off comments about your weight, which seemed to be the family’s second-favorite discussion topic any time they were together.

Still, that meant pretending Sam Winchester was your boyfriend for a week, which just seemed like some masochistic form of self inflicted torture. Besides, if even you knew Sam would never go for a girl like you, how in the world were you supposed to sell it to your nosy, skeptical family?

“I was mostly kidding about the whole fake boyfriend thing, Dean,” you said wearily, not wanting to devote any more thought to the idea.

Dean shrugged easily, sharing one more pointed look with Cas before refocusing on you. “Fair enough. You’re still staying for dinner, though, right?”

You’d have to be crazy to turn down one of Dean’s steaks. “Obviously.”

“Great,” he returned brightly. “I think Charlie’s coming.”

You were going to kill Dean. And Cas too, potentially, though it was entirely possible that he’d genuinely just been too preoccupied with his backyard beehive to remember the full extent of his boyfriend’s dinner plans. Because, apparently, “Charlie’s coming” actually meant, “Charlie and also Sam are coming.”

It only took about five minutes for Dean to bring up your mother’s nonsense, prompting you to consider just face planting into the mashed potatoes in embarrassment while Charlie burst out laughing. She thought the whole thing was unbelievably hilarious, and had immediately offered herself up as a fake date. The offer was well meant, you knew, but you were only trying to get your mother to shut up, not disown you for bringing home a girlfriend.

“I don’t need a date,” you finally huffed out, irritated with the whole thing. “I’m perfectly capable of showing up by myself. It’s not like anyone’s going to have anything to say about it that I haven’t already heard.” It was true. Your mother, and you sister and all of your aunts and uncles, for that matter, had been making the same jabs at your weight and relationship status for the past decade. You were used to it by now.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to hear it,” Charlie shrugged. “If we’re too gay for your mother, get somebody else.”

“I tried to tell her Sammy would do it,” Dean put in unhelpfully, elbowing his brother, who had been silent up until this point. You contemplated kicking him under the table.

“Poor Sam does not need to be subjected to my family for no good reason,” you said firmly, hoping that would be the end of it.

Sam was studying you across the table. “Or you could just ask me,” he said finally, and you felt your face heat up as you realized you’d basically been speaking for him.

“Yes!” Charlie burst out before you could come up with a reply. “Sam doesn’t mind, do you, Sam?”

Too late, you realized Charlie was the real villain in all of this. Your old roommate, after all, was the one who knew about your little crush. You wondered if it was worth running the risk of trying to kick her under the table without hitting Cas, who thus far had remained off of your hit list.

Sam cleared his throat roughly, looking between you, Charlie, and his plate. “No, I don’t--I mean, I don’t think Y/N really--”

“No, I do,” you blurted out, scrunching up your face immediately after the words left your lips. I do? I do? Since when? And what was it about Sam fucking Winchester that always made you act like a complete idiot?

Dean was smirking at you across the table, and you idly wondered what would happen if you tried egging Baby.

“Oh,” Sam brought you back out of your thoughts, looking hesitantly pleased. “Well, I just wrapped my latest case up, so I don’t mind coming up with you for that week. If you want.”

“Are you sure?” you bit your lip. There were a lot of emotions vying for your attention, but the dominating one was concern for Sam’s wellbeing. He had no idea what he was trying to agree to.

Sam sighed, staring you down with those hazel eyes. “Y/N, you’re basically family. Of course I’m sure. You just worry about the maid of honor stuff, and I’ll watch your back. Okay?”

This was a significantly softer ending to dinner than you’d expected, but you couldn’t deny the warm feeling that rushed up inside you at his words. I’ll watch your back. Pretty much no one in your life had ever done anything of the sort, until you met Charlie, and, through her, the Winchesters. You’d known Dean for months before you finally met Sam, and of course he was perfect.

It was easy with Dean, since he’d been the big brother you’d never had from day one. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking (seriously those boys won some kind of genetic lottery, you swore) but it just wasn’t like that. And then Sam had shown up and he was six and a half feet of walking perfection.

And now he was smiling reassuringly at you across the dinner table, having just agreed to pose as your completely fake boyfriend in front of your god awful family. Well, at least you’d be able to pinpoint the exact moment your life went completely sideways, if you ever had to look back.

Two anxiety-filled weeks later found you in Sam’s car, because subjecting his long legs to your tiny vehicle for a seven hour drive just seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. You were driving at his insistence, and Sam was in the passenger seat with a legal pad on his legs like he thought he was going to take notes.

“Sam,” you whined out, “is this really necessary? Can’t we just... you know, lie?” Since the whole thing is a big fat giant lie anyway.

Sam raised an eyebrow at you, and it just wasn’t fair how sexy that made him look. “Y/N, you’re the one that kept trying to warn me about getting cross examined by your mother,”

“Such a lawyer,” you huffed. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Let’s write our fake love story,” You batted your eyelashes at him exaggeratedly, punching a surprised laugh out of Sam. He watched your antics in amusement for a moment, and then refocused, absently playing with a pen in his long fingers.

“Okay, how did we meet?”

You cocked your head to one side. “My mom knows who you are,” you explained. “Vaguely, but she knows you’re Dean’s brother. We can just tell them how we actually met and stuff,”

Sam smirked at you. “You tell your mother about me?”

You made a face at him, smacking his arm as the heat of embarrassment suffused your entire body. “Just in passing, don’t go getting a big head. Well,” you made a show of studying him, “a bigger head,”

He looked affronted, running a hand briefly through his hair. “Okay, fine, we met because of Dean. Where did I take you on our first date?”

“Why did you have to take me out? What if I took you out?” You were mostly arguing for the sake of arguing, trying to keep yourself from thinking too hard as you imagined a fake life with Sam that had never happened and never would. He thought of you as family, he’d said as much, and you had to remember that.

“Because I had been waiting forever to ask you out, and I had all the good date ideas saved up,” Sam answered immediately.

“O-okay,” you said hesitantly, jarred by the conviction in his statement. But that was the point, wasn’t it? You were trying to sell it, and Sam was obviously a good actor. And unfairly attractive. And kind. And...and oh god. Your fingers gripped the steering wheel harder as you thought about the unexpected trial he hadn’t signed up for. “Sam, can you golf?”

He shrugged. “I know how it’s supposed to work. I’m just...not that good at actually getting the balls in the holes.”

If Dean were here, he would have taken that opportunity to make a lewd joke. As it was, you just winced. “My dad is going to force you to go golfing,” you explained tiredly. “I should have thought of that, I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s no big deal, Y/N,” Sam assured you easily. “I don’t mind. Besides, I want to meet your dad,”

You blinked at him, almost missing a turn in the process. “You actually want to meet my family? Sam, they’re terrible. Well, my dad’s probably the least awful of the bunch. Mostly he just hides. But Ruby will definitely try hitting on you, even though she’s supposed to be getting married, and Dick will try hitting on everything with legs, which is just gross, and Gramma Lilith is gonna give you the speech about how you could do so much better, and my Uncle Az is going to start Googling you and making weird threats, probably…” you trailed off in a huff. “It could be worse, I guess. At least if Uncle Fergus shows up everybody’ll start yelling at him instead. One can hope. He’s pretty harmless,” you shrugged, “if sometimes high. And my mother will probably just stick to the usual fat girl comments, so…”

Sam’s quiet laughter at your descriptions trailed off. “Y/N, you know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?”

You just shrugged again, deflecting. “Oh, come on, Sam, you don’t have to pretend like you think I’m a size two or something,”

“I’m...not,” Sam sounded genuinely confused, and you risked a glance over at him in the passenger seat. Oddly enough, he didn’t look like he was lying. Huh. “I think you’re beautiful.”

You didn’t want to have to pretend not to be affected by that, and this was maybe the first time in your life you’d actually been grateful to see the turnoff for your family’s old estate. “Here we go,” you narrated a little shakily. “It’s a big house,” you warned, still smiling a little at the way Sam’s eyes widened.

It had been a given that the wedding would take place at your Aunt Abaddon’s old estate house, which no one was quite sure how she’d acquired and which no one questioned. The only fun of the house was watching people’s reactions on the rare occasion that you brought someone here.

“I’ll get the bags,” Sam said vacantly, still staring at the house, and you chuckled softly, getting out of the car in a rush. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt important that you got to your family before Sam did, to put yourself between them, though at this point you weren’t quite sure who was being shielded from whom.

You smoothed down the little sundress you’d decided to wear, grabbing your small duffel out of the backseat and hastily going up the front walk, Sam still rummaging in the trunk.

“Y/N!” Ruby opened the front door to meet you, her smile already insincere and condescending. “You’re late. We thought you weren’t coming.” She glanced behind you briefly, then smirked. “And you’re alone. I mean I figured you wouldn’t actually find a plus one, but you know you’re gonna owe me for the meal--”

“Got everything?”

Oh thank god for Sam Winchester. You smiled tightly at your older sister, glancing briefly at your shoulder to reassure yourself that Sam was there. He was, holding a bag in each hand and a pleasant smile on his face. It was totally his false courtroom smile, but Ruby didn’t have to know that. “Ruby, this is...my boyfriend. Sam.”

Ruby blinked long eyelashes at him, processing. You figured she was torn between insulting you and flirting with him, and, as expected, the flirting won out. “Hi, Sam,” she purred. “I can’t wait to get to know you a little better,”

“Right,” Sam said flatly. “Well, I can’t wait to put these bags down, so…”

Something in Ruby’s expression soured as she looked at him, and her hand fell away from the doorframe as she stepped back, letting you both into the house. You lost no time in ducking past her, Sam right behind you.

“There’s rooms on the second floor,” Ruby said quietly, then, “I’m up there too, just in case you get bored...”

“Great,” Sam returned, and he shifted both of the bags into one hand to put a hand on your back as you walked toward the staircase. You shivered at the touch, exhaling the frustration that was already tensing your shoulders, and started up the stairs. God, it hadn’t even been five minutes. How were you supposed to get through a whole week of this?

Sam’s warm breath on your ear startled you, and he whispered, “So, third floor?”

You turned to catch him with a mischievous spark in his hazel eyes, and nodded quickly, a little smile pulling up the corners of your mouth as you started toward the second staircase with a new energy in your step.

“Hurry your fat ass, Y/N!” you heard Ruby shriek from somewhere below. “Everyone’s already out in the garden,”

You blew out your breath, hastily swinging open the first door you saw. The room was mercifully unoccupied, with a queen bed in the middle of the room and not much in the way of decoration. Your Aunt Abaddon had always been pretty minimalist.

Sam shut the door behind you both, setting the bags down in a line at the foot of the bed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” you said quickly, figuring that it was best to get that out of the way as quickly as possible. “I’m the one that got you into this, so--”

He turned to face you with a quizzical expression. “Why would you...Y/N, you didn’t get me into anything. I said I wanted to be here. If you’re not comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor,”

“No,” you sighed out, defeated. “Ruby’ll probably try barging in here anyway. I don’t think she believes you’re dating someone like me. We’re adults,” you went on with more confidence than you felt, “we can share,”

Sam’s brow furrowed adorably. Stop that. “Someone like you?” He moved to stand in front of you, one hand sliding very gently along your upper arm. “She doesn’t think I’d go for someone that’s funny and clever and really pretty?”

Something in your chest eased at his words, and, before your malfunctioning brain could stop you, you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his solid chest. “Thanks. She’s a bitch,” you mumbled into his shirt.

Sam’s hand migrated to gently rub over your back. “I’m beginning to get that impression,”

You stood there for a few more moments, letting yourself breathe within the safety of Sam’s arms, and then you straightened up and shook yourself. “Alright, boyfriend, ready to go meet the rest of the firing squad?”

He smiled down at you. “Whatever you say, honey bunch.”

You grimaced, but it got a laugh out of you, which you supposed had been his goal. “Absolutely not.”

“Cutie pie? Boo bear?”

“Stop it,” you threw a mock glare over your shoulder, opening the bedroom door.

“Okay, darlin’,” Sam murmured, and somehow that one sat better than all the rest. “I’ve got your back, remember?”

You smiled back at him, letting him slide his hand in yours for the show, and you braced yourself to head back downstairs and deal with the full force of your family.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #x reader #reader insert #spn #series

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syms-things-5 · 4 years

Text

Clear The Area - Chapter Fourteen

Previous Chapter HERE

Warnings: Language, NSFW Language

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue

Note: Apologies, this is a repost from yesterday for reasons I won’t go into now. i hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Fourteen

Sarah jostled with the mail as she entered their building, trying hard not to knock over the newest fresh plant currently adorning the entrance. They usually took it in turns to handle the post and whatever parcels the Supervisor had signed for that day but she was starting to feel a little short-changed as Shanna had consistently more post coming her way these days. Sarah realised she needed to get out more. Carting everything up the stairs was starting to become its own workout. Today’s treasures involved two Nasty Gal packages, a package from Pottery Barn, a box from Amazon, and what appeared to be a free sample of a Louis Vuitton fragrance. Sarah might just keep that last one to herself.

Jocelyn had sent another care package of sorts her way but it only served to remind Sarah that she had not called her folks in over a week. Ever since the accident, Jocelyn had been so consumed with worry that she had taken to sending Sarah articles ripped form magazines and gift cards for relaxation therapies. Despite Sarah’s many protests to the contrary, Jocelyn was sure Sarah was struggling with some form of undiagnosed PTSD. She’d read about it in a magazine. “If affects upwards of half a million American every year, honey.”

After successfully dodging the neighbour’s schnauzer, she eventually reached their floor and was just about to turn her key in the lock when the door swung wide open. Before she had time to react, she was brought face to face with a stressed-out Shanna, hair dripping wet from a shower. Not her favourite Shanna it had to be said. Not even in the Top Ten.

She grabbed Sarah by both shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m going to wear, Sarah! I’ve got less than an hour!”

“And hello to you, too!” Sarah smiled broadly, almost comically so, before Shanna lowered her head in embarrassment and moved out of the way so Sarah could physically get into her own home. She held the packages up. “Maybe there is something in here?”

Shanna shook her head. “No, they’re more summery. More formal.” She’d started fluttering around Sarah in a panic. “Do you still have that leather midi skirt? Do you think I could fit into it?”

“Uhh yeh it’s in the back of my closet somewhere.” she remembered. “Might be a bit warm, though? What are you gonna wear with it?”

“Well it’s a punky kind of bar, think it has live music and stuff so I thought maybe that Rolling Stones t-shirt and the maroon boots? Keep my hair down and casual?”

“So basically all of my clothes?” Sarah retorted. Shanna pressed her hands together in prayer and gave her the best pitiful smile she could manage, one she knew Sarah couldn’t resist. Shanna seemed to genuinely like this guy and if this guy was as charming and as smart as she told her he was, Sarah was sure she would like him, too. Hell, he’d be best friends with Scott and Chris in no time so long as he enjoyed football, Sam Adams, and didn’t put points on Shanna’s licence.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll see what I can pull together. Do you wanna borrow that heart necklace of mine? If you’re wearing your hair down, it’s probably best you avoid wearing earrings unless you want me to cut you out of them again.” Sarah shouted as she walked into her room unaware that Shanna had followed her closely behind.

“Oh god I hadn’t even thought that far. You know what, I might just cancel. This is just too much right now and I’m not even sure if he really likes me as anything more than a friend.” She feigned a dramatic flop onto Sarah’s bed, one arm landing across her forehead. Sarah delved through her closet to locate the desired items. If Shanna was threatening to cancel the date already, it must be serious.

“How many of you are going to this club?” Sarah asked, emerging from the closet doorway.

“Don’t know. Think three or four from my department and another couple from his?” she responded, hopelessness evident in her voice. Shanna never did well with vagueness where guys were concerned; everything had to be black and white with her.

“Come on, you’ve still got time.” Sarah encouraged as she carried some clothes and a couple of pairs of boots towards the bed. “Dry your hair and we’ll figure this out, OK?”

“Have I told you how much I love you lately?” Shanna pouted and Sarah tried to shrug off the pit growing in her stomach from her words. Shanna used every ounce of energy she could muster to get up and drag herself back into the bathroom leaving Sarah shaking her head.

It was only a rare occasion when Shanna took less time getting ready in the bathroom. Sarah had fond memories of shouting through the door back when they were at college and deciding to move in together required a complete 180 degree shift in her expectations. Still, in less than half an hour, here she emerged fully dressed, primer and foundation applied, and hair dried accordingly. It was a miracle of epic proportions and if she hadn’t shoved some false eyelashes into Sarah’s hand, Sarah would have snapped a photograph to send to the family as evidence that their little girl was growing up.

Thanks to her professional, steady hand, Sarah was always the eyelash-fixer among their group. While fixing a couple of lashes to the corners of her eyes, Sarah’s phone buzzed. It buzzed a couple more times in quick succession and she would have managed to ignore it had it not been for Shanna’a roving eye.

“Looks like someone wants you.” she murmured, trying her hardest not to move as Sarah held the glued lash in place with some tweezers.

“It’ll just be Audrey probably.” Sarah responded in no rush to check for herself, keeping a firm hold on what she was doing.

Shanna tried glancing to her side one more time to catch who it was but couldn’t quite make it out. It buzzed again. “I’d hate for you to miss out on a date with Greg on account of helping piece my pathetic love life together. Oooh maybe we could double-date!”

Shanna’s exclaim nearly caused Sarah to lose her grip on the tweezers but a sharp intake of breath convinced Shanna to give up the inquisition. “Sorry. Sorry.” she held her hands up as an apology before feeling Sarah’s hands relax as she moved across to the other eye.

Sarah was pleased to see Shanna eventually leave their apartment. Not because she wanted the peace particularly but just because it was nice to see her get excited over a guy that wasn’t Ben. She looked gorgeous, too. Sarah was quite proud of her work. If it wasn’t to be a proper date, it definitely would be after tonight. Robbie would be an absolute fool to miss out.

It was only when she slumped dow onto the couch and spent the next hour or so flicking through television channels that she remembered her phone had buzzed earlier on. She reluctantly peeled herself off the sofa and retrieved it from where it had originally landed on her bedside table. Honestly, it was like Shanna had taught her nothing.

From just two messages, Chris had attempted some mild flirtation with her before asking her if she knew what in God’s Name Penhaligon’s was.

Sarah 8.19pm: Perfume I think. Pretty old school brand. Why?

Chris 8.23pm: Mom wants it for her birthday. Never heard of it before. Scott thought it might be some kind of scarf??

She googled the name to make sure. Last thing she wanted was to end up ruining Lisa’s birthday celebrations with a present she absolutely did not want. Her birthday was something she took with increasing seriousness as each year passed by and her children and grandchildren grew older in front of her eyes. There was always a party of sorts, a massive cake, perhaps a theme, and a “suggestion list” for possible gifts. Well, they say “suggestion” but rarely did anyone dare deviate from “the list”. Sarah hadn’t yet considered buying a present but if Chris was already looking, she would no doubt need to catch up.

Sarah 8.34pm: Yep, pretty certain it’s a perfume. Pretty pricey. Good shout.

Sarah started scanning through her phone as another couple of messages caught her eye, some she had accidentally missed from earlier in the day. One from Audrey. One from Greg that she was not expecting.

Greg 7.02pm: Great news! 29th is set up. All you need to do is say the word! Don’t know how long I can hold the spot open so let me know as soon as you can. Have a great evening x

It took her a moment to register what he was talking about.

Chris 8.37pm: Cool THX What are you wearing??

Sarah stared down at the phone. She felt light-headed. There was far too much going on for this time of the day. She wiped at her forehead with her sweater sleeve and took a deep breath.

Sarah 8.41pm: You wouldn’t be interested lol

Chris 8.42pm: try me..........

He had a surprising habit these days of cheering her up.

Sarah 8.46pm: Nah I look a mess. Get out while you can.

Her phone started ringing almost as soon as she’d pressed ‘send’, Chris’ name flashing on her screen. She contemplated not answering now that her mood had taken a turn but she knew he would work out something was wrong and immediately dive over.

“Hey,” she answered, trying for a jovial tone but coming up just south of delirious.

“Hey you,” he smiled through the phone, happy to hear her voice. “In all the years I have known you, Bernette, not once would I describe you as looking like a mess.”

She laughed down the line. She made the right decision.

“...you are far too cute to ever be a mess. Do you know that? Like, I can already picture you with your sweats on, your hair tied up, soft skin...” he trailed off with a low sigh that she was sure was filthier than he intended it to be. “Man, that really does something to me.”

“You really know how to charm a girl. Have you figured this Penhaligon’s thing out yet? Was I right?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

She laughed again. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m not great with flirting over the phone. You should know that by now.”

“Then do it with me in person.” he proposed as if it was the easiest solution in the world. As if she wasn’t going to be distracted with thoughts of work and studies enough to not focus on him entirely. And he didn’t deserve to be second best.

It would have been all too easy to allow him to come over. Forget about overthinking things again. There truly was no one better at making her feel good about herself these days. Like, honest, through-the-bone good about herself, whatever that entailed. Goosebumps raised on her skin at the thought.

“I’m pretty whacked to be honest and...”

“What’s going on? Are you feeling alright?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Whatever he had been pottering about with in the background had stopped all of a sudden.

“Yes! Yeh, I’m fine. Just...I dunno, boring. Plus, it’s Friday night! You should be out with the guys or whatever. Shan said Scott is having issues with Zach again. Is he OK?”

He laughed at her second lame attempt to deflect. He knew something was going on and he knew she knew he wouldn’t give up easily.

“Is Shanna there?” he asked.

“No, she went out with some friends.”

“So why don’t you ask me to come over and I’ll make you feel better than fine?”

She was lucky she was sat down or that her legs were crossed underneath her as she lounged on the couch, her back against the arm rest. His tone was causing her to feel things she shouldn’t be focussing on. What must it feel like to always be confident of your effect on people?

“Do you wanna come over?” she asked, treading lightly, not entirely anxious should he decline.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He ended the call almost as abruptly as he had dialled it.

She remained where she sat for a moment, Greg’s text message still lighting up her screen. She wasn’t expecting for things to suddenly be so easy for her and it was strange how opening herself up to more possibilities could cause her to feel so immobile.

She would need to move at some point and as a helpless and as confused as she now felt, she knew it would look far too obvious to Chris if she bid to make herself up. She also didn’t really have the energy to do so. Lord, Chris really should have taken the out when he had the chance.

“Have I just walked into a teenage girl’s bedroom?” Chris asked, taking a look around as he entered the apartment not long afterwards. He clearly found the scene amusing although Sarah couldn’t under stand why. It was partly Shanna’s home after all. He should be used to girly mess. “What’s going on?”

“Shan has a date. I was helping her to get ready.” Sarah replied, humourously holding up the hairdryer like a trophy before dumping it back in her bedroom. “Sort of, actually. She doesn’t quite know if it’s a date date or a friend date.”

“I was told those didn’t exist.” Chris smirked, reaching for a bottle of water from her fridge.

“Well, she’s dressed up for one. Looks gorgeous.”

“I think you look gorgeous.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Chris, you don’t need to make any more effort, OK? You’re already in the apartment.”

“I think it bears repeating is all.”

He swallowed half the bottle of water before fixing her with a semi-quizzical stare. He tried to figure out what was going on as he watched her potter around the kitchen table, swiping something away into a cupboard, phone grasped in her hand. “What’s going on? You sounded weird on the phone and now you look like it as well.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” she answered far too quickly and tried to shrug it off but his body language told her he wasn’t buying it. She wasn’t sure what was bothering her more in this moment; him knowing her too well, or that he knew he knew her too well.

“OK, alright, well, it’s Friday night and I’m happy just hanging out and doing whatever but you can also talk to me as well. I’m not a monster.”

“It was her turn to look back at him, unsure of her next move or indeed his. she wondered if he was very likely regretting his decision to meet her now when twenty minutes in the opposite direction would take him to one of his favourite downtown dive bars. Instead, he rested against the side of the kitchen doorway, arms folded, a softness still present in his facial expressions. He seemed hesitant of what to say and she didn’t like the slight awkward air surrounding them. She didn’t want to venture into work-territory either.

“Do you want me to go, Sarah?”

She looked back up at him after a short spell spent staring down at her feet. “No. I don’t want you to leave. I’m just...there’s something...” she paused to re-evaluate her words. “You know what, it’s find. It’s nothing major. Of course I’m glad you’re here now.”

He pushed himself off from the counter and moved towards her, accepting of the greeting smile now covering her face, the bottle of water still in his grip. “Cool. Shall I follow your lead then, or...?”

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” she suggested, more casually than he would have liked. She didn’t know what to say to him now that all of her brain space was taken up with possibilities and wanting to call Audrey with the news. Chris hadn’t factored in watching a film but she seemed like she wanted a little peace and quiet and he had pretty much dived into the apartment as soon as she gave him the green light, eager as he was to see her without threat of Shanna walking in at any point.

“Movie sounds good.” He bobbed his head in agreement, content in their surroundings for now.

At some point towards the end of Searching, Chris quietly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Realising something was about to happen and not wanting to have to explain it to him after he returned, Sarah put the film on pause and headed into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She had held him at an arm’s length for most of the night, the couch seeming longer somehow, but was now feeling a slight chill despite the thick sweater reaching midway down her thighs. He would no doubt have been cosy to snuggle up to but she was still pondering Greg’s message and couldn’t concentrate on much else.

Her demeanour hadn’t gone unnoticed by Chris. A couple of times he caught the glare from her phone screen illuminating her face from below and wondered who had gotten her attention this evening. He stopped himself from making an obvious joke and was disappointed that she hadn’t noticed him glance across at her several times during the movie. He wasn’t much interested in watching it. Telling the truth, he’d seen it via a DVD screener Matt had sent him months earlier but she’d mentioned she was looking forward to watching it and in all honesty, he had figured they would curl up together and he would have still gotten something out of it.

“Chris? Do you want a cup of tea?” she hollered from the kitchen doorway. No response for what seemed to be a long, long minute. She switched the kettle off and began pouring him one anyway. She could always drink two if he didn’t want it.

“Chris?” she shouted again.

She walked into the lounge to place the cups down and clocked the bathroom door ajar and seemingly empty. Maybe he left without telling her. In all fairness, she wouldn’t have been surprised or annoyed. She’d barely given him a moment of attention for the last two hours.

She wandered slowly down the hallway first passing Shanna’s bedroom before reaching her own and finding him stretched out across the bottom of her bed. She giggled and leaned on the side of the doorway. He looked rather comfortable. A little too comfortable. Maybe he wanted some company?

“What are you up to, Evans?”

He tilted his head up to find her standing there. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice I was gone.” He leaned up further and rested on one arm to fully take sight of her. His eyes appeared a little dopey, a thing that always seemed to give away his nefarious intentions. From the angle he was now lying in, the size of his bicep looked ridiculous. It could not have been an accidental move and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t working for her.

“Are you bored? You can absolutely go if you have a better offer, I promise I won’t mind.” she offered by way of an apology but he stayed looking at her, not moving or responding to her offer. Being caught under his glare like this was unnerving to say the least. His hair looked a little messy from where he had been lying down yet he still made zero effort to move at all.

“I’m not bored.” He finally spoke, sincerity lacing his voice. “Are you? You seem distracted tonight.”

She didn’t know how to respond except to say he was right and to apologise again. She hadn’t figured out what to say to Greg yet so explaining her thought process to Chris wasn’t going to get her very far. It was times like this, when he was looking at her like that, that she wished she had the confidence to try and shut him up the old-fashioned way.

“Come here...” It was barely a whisper and she would have doubted he had spoken at all if it wasn’t for the hand he was now holding out towards her. He didn’t blink once.

She couldn’t refuse him and moved slowly to stand in the middle of his now-parted legs hanging off the end of the bed as he sat up. She watched as he closed his eyes when he felt her fingers smooth through his hair. There was something so calming about her touch, the deliberate graze of her nails sending little shocks down his spine. He wasn’t normally fussed by a woman playing with his hair even if occasionally he liked it when they pulled on it but something about her slow, tender touch was unlike anything he had felt before.

He moved his hands to the side of her thighs before pulling her legs down to either side of him. “I love looking at you from here.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist making sure she couldn’t get away from him.

She moved in to kiss him, softly at first before she felt his tongue glide along her bottom lip, a wordless request for her to open up. He paused for a second, taking her in while she caught her breath before kissing her deeper than before. She pulled his t-shirt up from the hem and he reached up over his back to grab it and whip it off in record time. Not one of his proudest moments, it caught on his watch as he tried and failed to fling it to the side of them and he made a mental note to try that move again when he felt her chuckle against the side of his neck. He didn’t much mind being a dork in front of her. She knew he wasn’t as cool as he made himself out to be.

His hands found their way into her hair as he caressed the strands out of her face. He loved how silky it felt between his fingers and how faintly it smelled of coconut, her signature smell by now. Her hands gripped his wrists before slowly moving up his biceps and grasping at his shoulders while he pulled her down onto him to allow her to feel how hard he was becoming from her touch. He wanted to know she was only thinking about him. She felt him push up into her core and arousing her even more. His breaths were getting shorter while his hands moved down her sides in an attempt to hook into her leggings and drag them down and off her body. She moved a hand away from his shoulders to help him with his mission but a tapping sound soon broke her from her reverie.

“Wait.” she was still holding on to his arms to steady herself until things went quiet and his hands froze on her waist. Their breathing levelled out quickly and Chris threw her a confused look. “Do you hear something?”

“What?” He gasped. “No, nothing.” He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her back down to kiss him hard. His hands firmly gripped her ass until she was putting pressure back where he wanted it. She quickly forgot what she was thinking about while he moved her slowly along his growing length. He moved one hand up her side, dragging her sweater up with it so his fingers could finally feel her skin underneath. Her hands were pushing down on his chest a bit harder and in a moment that took her by total surprised he quickly flipped them over so she was lying underneath him, completely encased by his strong forearms.

Kissing her was so easy he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done it sooner. Her lips were soft, some of the softest her had ever touched. He figured she kissed like she wanted to be kissed, and he wanted to kiss her back like no boy had ever kissed her before. It was soft and hot and breathy and turning him on immensely. Neither was trying to win a battle but rather seeking and enjoying their closeness, the sharing of this one single sensation, outside world be damned.

The prospect of being uninterrupted was giving him all kinds of ideas. Her breathing was hot against his skin and he knew she was in the zone with him. They’d never particularly been slow and up until this point, he hadn’t much minded but he knew there was some part of her she was holding back and honestly, it was thrilling to him that he was determined to figure her out.

Pinning her underneath, one hand reached down and grazed the inside of her thigh. A little more pressure just over her clit caused her breath to hitch with a sudden squeak ever so slightly until they smiled back into their kiss, tongues massaging together. Honestly, he could carry on doing this for hours if he knew for sure there would definitely be another time they had this opportunity.

She opened her eyes to find him resting so close above her and evidently relishing the way she was lightly tickling the back of his neck with her fingers. Another languid kiss followed before he caught the side of her neck between his teeth and pushed himself against her core, her wetness increasingly apparent to him. She was growing accustomed to his need to tease her like this that she almost missed the scraping sound that had returned, only this time it was louder and sounded like it was coming from just down her hallway. She would have loved nothing more than to continue focussing on the hot breath now ghosting across her neck and shoulders but, panicking, she grudgingly pushed him off her.

“Fuck, what is that?”

Helpless and slightly dazed, all he could do was watch her get up from the bed to stand by the door. With an ear close to the gap, she listened out for another sound. Quieter than before, she swore she heard what sounded like shuffling followed by something being dropped on the ground.

Spying him about to protest, she shook her head. “Nope. Nope, that’s definitely something.” She proceeded to tiptoe out of her room and down the hall towards the kitchen, her bare feet treading ever so lightly and managing to dodge the one creaky floorboard. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find but felt a brief surge of confidence knowing the vision of Captain America might alarm whoever was attempting to break in to her home and presumably try to murder them both. He was 6 foot and built like a tank, he could absolutely save them both if push came to shove.

Of course, no one was there that she could immediately see. Maybe something had fallen off the wall instead, or perhaps had been knocked over by a strong breeze coming in via the open window in the lounge? Maybe she was hearing things after all or maybe it was a burglar but they got startled and ran away when they heard footsteps inside. Maybe it was just their neighbour moving around next door but it sounded a little too close for that. She resorted to the only thing she could think of in that moment and picked up a spatula just in case.

Chris was reluctantly putting his t-shirt back on when he followed quietly behind her, shaking his leg to relieve some of the tension in his boxers. Something banged again but this time she was sure it was coming from outside of her front door. He could now hear it as well but wasn’t entirely sure what she was hoping to accomplish with a plastic spatula in her hand.

She held her finger up to her lips to stop him from making any noise and peered through the peephole. She couldn’t see anything. Gingerly, she decided to open the door and jumped backwards when there, on the ground hunched up and leaning against the door frame, was a rathe intoxicated Shanna. Her bag had been emptied in a hurry like she’d been trying to locate her keys, and her coat was falling off her shoulders. She was half-asleep.

Chris snorted from somewhere close behind Sarah unable to contain himself, instantly familiar with the view in front of him. Sarah exhaled with some kind of relief that they were safe from a mass-murderer.

“I don’t believe it...” she spoken quietly.

“I do!” Chris could barely stop the laughter coming out now.

She and Chris moved to help her into the apartment, each grabbing her under one arm. Chris bared the majority of her weight while Sarah carried her bag and as a many contents as she could find. They managed to manoeuvre her into her bedroom where she promptly fell forward, head first, onto her bed,

“Fuckin’ waster,” he laughed heartily before Sarah punched his arm to stop him from waking her. the room fell silent for a moment before the unmistakeable sound of Shan snoring took over. Chris closed the door behind them before following Sarah to the kitchen where she collected the remaining items that had fallen out of her bag. Picking up her phone, she checked for scratches.

“Well at least she didn’t lose it this time,” she held up the mobile to him but noticed he couldn’t stop grinning. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” he shook his head. “I just wish I’d taken a picture of her. Scott would have a heart attack. Always told her she couldn’t handle her drink!”

“i don’t know how you’d explain getting hold of a photo of her.”

“Oh yeh, good point.” he chuckled in reponse. They regarded each other for a moment, Chris clearly hopeful they could pick up from where they left off.

“I think you should go,” Sarah thought apologetically.

He paused before answering, expecting her to have been joking. “Why? She’s passed out on her bed. She’ll be asleep for hours. Do you have any idea how many times I have seen her like this?”

“Have you any idea how many times I have seen her like this? She’ll wake up in the middle of the night and get into bed with me and it’d be a lot easier to handle if I didn’t have to explain to her why her bother was also there.”

“Sarah, we could throw a rave and she wouldn’t wake up.”

He was making no effort to move, instead fixing her with a stare waiting for her to recognise how ridiculous she sounded. His hands pinched at his hips and he looked a foot taller than before

“Seriously, Chris, you’re just going to have to leave.”

He took a couple of steps towards her, bare feet padding along the hard, cold floor. “I haven’t see you all week.” He moaned, hands reaching out for her hoping the memory of where they had been would be enough to convince her he should stay.

“That’s not true. You saw me the other day.” It was a weak response. Even she knew that.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

She offered back nothing. She had no response. He was disappointed and equally as frustrated with his lack of a decent comeback. He should definitely stay. He should be rocking her world right this moment and whispering filthy things into her ear but instead, all he could do was stand there and shake his head in defeat. When he made eye contact with her again, she looked somehow smaller in some way and he found it hard to continue being frustrated with her. He understood what she was doing as much as he didn’t want to.

Resigned, he shuffled towards her and embraced her in a hug. She felt him semi-hard against her tummy, briefly doubting her choices. It stirred something exciting inside her to think she could make him feel that way and mentally chastised Shanna for cock-blocking her. She felt bad for kicking him out like this.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” she whispered.

He loosely pulled away from their hug and looked down at her. He playfully raised an eyebrow and looked down at her lips, still pink and swollen, before chastely planting a kiss on them.

“I am absolutely going to hold you to that.”

Shan finally made an appearance the following morning looking like death warmed up. She’d somehow managed to remove her clothes but had a pyjama top on backwards and her hair was sticking out in all directions. She had Sarah’s expert eyeliner and a false lash smudged down one cheek.

Sarah was eating breakfast and checking the news on her phone when she saw the creature from the black lagoon emerge into her kitchen. Stifling a laugh at the sorry sight standing before her, she felt a pang of sympathy seeing every step cause her pain. Shan just pouted at her before taking a seat at the kitchen table, resting her forehead in her hands while Sarah fixed her a glass of juice and some aspirin. She took it gratefully before groaning.

“Remind me never to do shots again.” she stressed. Sarah knew it wouldn’t last, not with that Boston blood coursing through her veins. “Was Chris here last night?”

Sarah froze, a sudden ring clouding her ears. “Erm, no, he wasn’t.” She turned to put her bowl in the sink and tried to hide any blushes. She didn’t know who felt more like shit in this exact moment.

“Oh I could have sworn I heard him is all.” Shan said, more to herself than to anyone else. “God, it’s good he wasn’t. He’d have a ball game seeing me in that state. How awful was I?”

“Not very,” Sarah lied again.

“How did I even get home?” she asked, trying to piece together the flashes of memories that kept racing through her mind.

“Um, I think your friends dropped you off in a taxi and you somehow managed to get up the stairs but then I guess you couldn’t find your keys...?” Shan managed a puzzled look. “You were slumped against the front door.” She refilled her glass with juice. “You’ve been in bed for, like, twelve hours.”

“Shit, we must have started early.”

“Well it happens to the best of us.” Sarah sat next to her and pushed a loose piece of hair out of her sweaty, red face. “Your hair looks OK! I don’t think there is anything stuck in it this time.”

Shanna laughed for the first time before her head panged in revenge.

“So? Did anything happen with Robbie?” Sarah asked, a cheeky grin crossing her face. By the look on Shanna’s face, the answer was a resounding “no” but it could very well have been the alcohol-induced hurricane currently running though her head.

“Well, it was a great night regardless. You’d love the bar. I think we ran into that guy, the porter from your hospital? Pat something? Did you know he plated in a band?”

“Um, no, not at all. Wow.” Sarah was trying to picture Patrick with an array of different instruments to see which suited him before remembering the awkward time he attempted to drum Phil Collins’ ‘In The Air Tonight’ with two scalpels. “Actually, he does seem the type. I’ll have to let Audrey know. She’ll love this.”

“He sounded pretty decent. It’s not just punk music or heavy rock. I think we should all go one night. Maybe as part of Mom’s birthday week.” Shanna perked up a little, proud of the idea that had materialised in her head against all odds. “It’s amazing what people can do when they put some effort in. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Where you might be now if you just took a chance.”

Following a night of heavy drinking, Sarah wasn’t expecting such an existential conversation at this point in the day. But it was a good point regardless. She grabbed her phone from the table and typed out a message to Greg.

“Yes. I’m in.”

#chris evans #chris evans fic #evans fic #chris evans x original female character #sarah bernette #clear the area

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chicagocityofclans · 4 years

Photo

Maxine Vanes → Lupita Nyong'o → Rat Animal Shifter

→ Basic Information

Age: 62

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Born or Made: Made

Birthday: December 28th

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Religion: Deism

→ Her Personality Max has always been secretive and closed off. She has strong opinions and will not let them fall silent nor back away from what she knows is the right thing. That’s normal for most rats but what sets her apart is her elegant stance and gracefulness. Despite being loyal to the Rat Clan of Chicago and having their best interests in mind always, Max disapproved of their secretive ways. Seeing it as obstacles holding them back from making the world a better place, and uniting the supernatural world as it once was before humans became the dominant population. She sees every person for their actions and beliefs rather than assigning them a label based on their species or family reputation. Even with her duties as the Pack Fixer and Cyber Exploitation Officer, she consistently gets involved in conflicts for the good of other species, adamant to use her abilities to help those in need. Thanks to her position she is often able to negotiate nearly every social situation to her advantage. Her stance and headstrong attitude often have her coming to idealistic clashes with Jo, despite both having clear respect for each other and a strong friendship.

→ Her Personal Facts

Occupation: BOND - Pack Fixer and Cyber Exploitation Officer

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Fashion and Bright Colors

Two Dislikes: Red Meat and Airports

Two Fears: Being Caught and Unknown/Poisonous Frogs

Two Hobbies: Programming/Scripting and Shopping

Three Positive Traits: Elegant, Sincere, Immutable

Three Negative Traits: Secretive, Unabashed, Opinionated

→ Her Connections

Parent Names:

Jamie Vanes (Father): Max does not remember a lot about Jamie, Trudy or Egypt. She tries to keep the tragedy of their deaths and her life as a human tucked away.

Trudy Vanes (Mother): Max does not remember a lot about her mother. She tries to keep the tragedy of their deaths and her life as a human tucked away.

Sibling Names:

Egypt Vanes (Sister): Max does not remember a lot about Jamie, Trudy or Egypt. She tries to keep the tragedy of their deaths and her life as a human tucked away.

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

Henry Dean (Ex-Boyfriend): Henry and Max had known of each other for years before actually speaking with each other about 5 years ago. There was some fluke with BOND and the two were pulled in to deal with the situation. Had Max known that they would hit it off like they did, she would have sought him out earlier. Henry asked her out for dinner at the end of their case and they dated for 3 years until Henry proposed to Max. Max was still unsure if Henry was the final answer and said no. Henry broke things off soon after instead of giving Max more time. Max and Henry’s relationship was private, Max is thankful no one has ever found out about the two of them or Max refusal of Henry’s proposal.

James ‘Jim’ Montgomery (Something): When Max could not return home because she had no family to return home to, she found solace in Ray and Jim. They were the only ones Max would allow near her as she and Nick continuously bumped heads. Jim is usually the one Max talks to first when she is unsure on a subject before bringing anything to Nick or Mills. Jim and Max had grown a part throughout the years, but she still found comfort in him when she needed it. However, since the RED massacre, Max and Jim’s friendship have taken a turn towards something more. Jim kissed Max during a heated argument 6 months ago which led to them having passionate sex at the SKIN headquarters. They went about their day afterwards and Max gave Jim a few days to approach her but he never did. When Max finally approached Jim 3 days later for clarification they agreed to take things slow. Max has recently started spending the weekend at Jim’s place.

Platonic Connections:

Josephine ‘Jo’ Floyd (Best Friend): Max met Jo only four years after Max was mistakenly changed when Jo was brought in from a rival pack that was abusing their woman. Their pack has always been diverse but for a while Max was one of the few changed African American females; especially one who was outspoken. Jo was a sweet relief, someone else that looked like 16-year-old Max, whose company was mainly Ray, Jim or Ben. While Max was already in training, Jo had just joined and had to start from the beginning. Max took to Jo like a moth to a flame. They were inseparable and still are.

Conrad Kale (Best Friend): Max and Conrad have been friends for years, but their relationship had become a lot closer since Conrad second of RED and started attending meetings. They would sit together and talk after joking about whatever happened in their respective groups. Max was there for Conrad when RED was massacred and when Conrad was promoted to third. Just like Ray in the past, Max thought she was developing feelings for Conrad and wanted to act on them, but Henry asked her out the day before Max thought about making her move.

Ray Hamelin (Old Friend): When Max could not return home because she had no family to return home to, she found solace in Ray and Jim. They were the only ones Max would allow near her as she and Nick continuously bumped heads. Ray became Max's family although she was not blind that Nick is Ray's only family. There was one point where Max was confused on whether or not she was romantically in love with Ray or if she loved the protector he had become of her. Ray and Max work side by side as liaison for their Clan and BOND.

Nick Hamelin (Unknown): Nick has always been hard on Max and in turn Max has given him Hell. Max had forgiven Nick a long time ago for the bite that changed her into a rat, but it has been clear to Max that Nick has yet to forgive himself. Instead of becoming the father and protector Max needed at the time Nick her enemy. Nick had threatened to kill her on numerous occasions. Nick had gone out of his way to embarrass her and degrade her worth. Max had survived his attacks and returned them tenfold. Everyone had ensured her that Nick saw potential in her and was only doing it for her own good, but she knew better. Nick either hated her or was intimidated by her. It took years of going back and forth but they have worked out somewhat of an understanding and friendship over the years. Max knows that Nick still believes that she has not forgiven him and tries to guilt him but Max knows it is Nick’s own way of self-pity and blame. Max cannot define their relationship but she does not hate Nick. She does not care for him either, at least, not in the way she cares for and loves Ray and Jim.

Mary Lang (Friend): Max and Jo took Mary out on the town a few days after Mary’s mom had passed. They helped Mary get dressed up, did her hair, and overall helped Mary become herself again. The three of them are incredibly close but Max enjoys her one on one time with Mary too.

Maya Morris (Friend): Max is not blind, she can tell that Maya looks up to her and sees Max as a role model. Max is flattered and tries her best to live up to Maya expectations. Max thinks Maya becoming friends with Mary and Conrad was a big step in the direction of personal growth for them all.

Achilles Idris (Good Friend): Max was surprised when she found out that Achilles was Jaxson's older brother. Achilles is a sweetheart and Max enjoys his company. They have settled into an easy friendship. There is something off about Achilles but Max had put it off as Achilles settling in and trying to separate himself from Jaxson. Max has her theories but has kept them to herself and imply that she is always there if Achilles needs someone to talk to about anything.

Vincent Kane (Liaison): Max has only recently reached out to Vincent after hearing about the increased hostility between Clan Rat and the human shifters. Max knows getting on the human shifters ‘shit list’ would not be beneficial but no one seems to be listening to her. Vincent and Max have met a few times and Max is hoping she can talk some sense into Jim and Ray for results.

Shannon Harris (Liaison): Max was happy when Ray told her that Shannon will be training as liaison. Max has been going easy on Shannon, helping her with the learning process and giving her suggestions whenever Shannon gets flustered or overwhelmed. They have been meeting outside of pack business for lunch.

Clara Fields (Contact): Max still does not know how Clara got her number, probably was Sam Thompson but everytime someone crosses the line at the Fields Hotel, Max gets a phone call instead of Mary or Nick. Max always helps out without much fuss and gets to the bottom of which rat is messing up.

Churchill Darling (Contact): Max befriended Church by mistake but has yet to end whatever it is that they have going on. Jim has warned her against using Church as a contact but Max is hoping opening another line of communication with the human shifters may be somewhat beneficial.

Lillian Pickford (Contact): Max has exchanged information with Lillian on multiple cases regarding the local supernaturals. Max would not call Lillian a friend but they are business friendly and professional with each other.

Milton Rod Jackman (Contact): Max is Milton’s contact when he is investigating supernatural events. Besides hashing out details or coming up with journalist coverup suggestions, Max and Milton barely talk and keep it strictly business.

Hostile Connections:

Jaxson Idris (Unsure): Jaxson and Max have never gotten along. Max does not know what it is about Jaxson but she couldn’t care less about anyone more than Jaxson. She has seen a change in him lately for the better. She isn’t putting her money in his pot and keeping her distance.

Keith ‘West’ Freeman (Annoyance): Keith is a liability that Max does not understand. If anyone else would have pulled the stunts that Keith had, Nick would have had them by the balls. Keith gets zero sympathy from Max.

Pets:

None

#Max Vanes #Taken #lupita nyong'o

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abalonetea · 5 years

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i’m at 900 followers as of today, and just now realizing that I never made an official writeblr intro post! so, to followers old and new, to people who love Groundhog Day and are just learning about it...hello! let me introduce myself to you a little more!

my name’s Katie and I've been writing for as long as I can remember! i’m 23, and I do all of my work online (writing and art commissions) because of some health problems that stop me from working normal jobs.

before I quit work, I broke and trained hunter/jumper horses! before that I worked at an animal sanctuary! my family (me, my mother, and my sister) just recently moved onto a 5 acre fixer-upper farm and we’re working towards making our homestead dreams come true!

my main story is called Groundhog Day! i’m roughly 100k words into it, all out of order, with the exception of the first 6 chapters! it’s my baby, and I love being able to share this story, and the process behind making it, with all of you!

when Blue is swapped out with Red, he finds himself traversing the dangers of Fara Falls - with the general of the Royal Guard, Bolte, as his only companion and guide. the problem, of course, is that Bolte has had to cut himself off from kindness and good things, because those will get you killed in his world. still, he struggles to keep his own paladin, Red, safe, keep himself alive, and attempt to bring some semblance of peace to his land.

meanwhile, Red finds himself in Fields of Fara, where Locke, a knight-in-training (being personally tutored by the mute general of the guards, Flame) takes him in and tries to show him that, despite everything, the world is still worth trying to save. riddled with a glitch known as Groundhog Day, the world is doomed to consistently reset itself back to various save files, with only a handful of people remembering the previous loops.

as the game data becomes more unsteady, and Queen Midnight’s grab for power becomes more absolute, it’s realized that the only way to prevent Fields of Fara from crumbling completely is by putting aside past differences and working together…and learning a little more about each other along the way.

the setting is inside of a video game with a high candy aesthetic, riddled with characters such as Celeste (a genderfluid spider bard), Polynya (captain of the Fields of Fara guard, and a water elemental with an aquarium for a torso), and Aba (the cursed second child of the lost queen, forced to act out the role of villain when he was never meant to be one).

a heavy emphasis is put on healing, both physically and emotionally, learning to accept help, and understanding that there is always a chance to come back from doing bad things; that there is always a chance to change; that knowing, sometimes, good people are put into bad situations, and there’s nothing wrong with learning to be better.

a happy ending is promised!

my other, less developed, background wips include -

Sacrilegious - raised in the church his entire life, Abel has never been much for religion. he just has a hard time believing in something that can’t be seen. this goes double for the cursed objects often dropped off on their front steps...right up until the day one happens to really be cursed, and the demon trapped in the box finds himself bound to Abel. the only way to get rid of Alloces is to break all seven seals, but that’s going to be a lot harder than originally thought...especially when Abel realizes that the demon isn’t quite as awful as those who preach Bridgism would like him to believe.

The Business - a slice of life story following along with two cats, Tequila and Lime, who just so happen to be in the mafia. along with Cayenne, an overly excitable dog, and Salt, a drunk of a raccoon, this gunfire filled story isn’t going to end the way anyone expects.

Hunt For The Aurora Borealis (first three chapters available on patreon.com/abalonetea) - Orion, Cash, and Blitz have been living a secluded but peaceful life for several years, running the South Pole Station. it’s the best that can be asked of a few monsters in disguise. but this new batch of scientists bring with them a few dark secrets, and a whole lot of pain. what’s Wes really hiding? and who paid to send him here?

How The West Was Lost - a gunslinging adventure set in Perfection and the desert surrounding it. when Charlie, brother to a law man, gets thrown from his horse, he’s found by a pair of bandits, and mean ones at that. only Sam is a lot more kind than his bounty would lead you to believe, and West would burn for his partner. the clash brought about by their burgeoning relationship is only made worse when Charlie’s brother, Deputy Dallas, gets tangled in a string of corruption that goes far higher than he originally thinks.

In The Woods - Cain and Vincent have spent their lives in a small, secluded village surrounded by monster infested woods. it’s a simple life, filled with baking, drying herbs, carding wool, and attending the local service. all of this falls apart when Cain gives sanctuary to two injured monsters, calling out both the Holy Father and the Village Guard on murdering monsters without just cause. when the entire village finds their lives turned on end, which side will Vincent fall on? that of his brother? or that which he was raised on?

#writeblr #writeblr intro #in honor of my new followers!

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brittney-red · 5 years

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This is what I wrote for Katie’s 400 Followers Challenge! @controloffandoms

Hope you enjoy!

There were many things in Dean Winchester’s life that he regrets. Going all the way back to his childhood, which was not the best time in his life. He wasn’t able to protect his mom from the fire that destroyed their home, he wasn’t able to save his father from his drinking problem years later, he hurt his little brother Sam when he disappeared for a year after their dad died so he could ‘find himself’, and he took years to finally tell his best friend how he really felt about him. Honestly, the list could go on and on, but the one thing he really regrets most in his life? Walking past that damn SPCA with his bleeding heart of a boyfriend.

Read it on AO3?

It was an accident really, Dean was so engrossed in his delicious peanut butter chocolate chip ice-cream cone that he didn’t realize where they were until it was too late. He had incidentally lead them straight into the dreaded corner of 1st and Maple. It was avoided like the plague by parents of with children of any age and adults that had a heart for small abandoned animals, but didn’t have the means of adopting anymore pets. When he finally looked up from his treat and he started to stutter in protest of the direction they were heading he couldn’t stop his boyfriend. Cas had already seen the puppy eyes of a big eared, brown eyed Bassett hound in the window and his boyfriend was long gone. So much so that he dropped his raspberry cheesecake ice-cream cone to push his face up to the window with a loud ‘squeee!’. Dean cursed under his breath as he watched his lover start fussing over the hound behind the glass. All it takes is a puppy to get a 30 year old grown ass man to act like a 5 year old again.

“We need to save this puppy Dean! Look at it’s sad wittle face!” Cas said bubbling with excitement, bright blue eyes still very much attached to the brown eyes of the little hound in the shelter. Who, by the way, was so not helping Dean’s case. As soon as the pup saw Cas, it hopped up on it’s little stubby legs and bounded over to the window to say hello, pink tongue lolling out of the side of it’s mouth. The hound let out a weak little bark and Dean swears he saw hearts pop out of his boyfriend’s eyes. He knew he was in some deep trouble now.

“I’m sorry love but we can’t get a puppy right now.” The sandy haired man murmured softly, wrapping one arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, trying to coax his boyfriend away from the puppy and the shelter while still eating his cone. It was proving to be a majorly difficult task.

Sad blue eyes met green, a pretty pink pout on his face. “Well, why ever not?”

Dean chuckled fondly at the affronted tone of his lover. “You know why babe,” he explained, finishing his cone and wiping his sticky hand on the front of his flannel, the other shifting from the shorter mans shoulder down to his waist so he could start moving him in the direction of home easier. “We live in an apartment complex that doesn’t allow pets.”

“Well then, we’ll just need to move.”

Dean rolled his eyes and placed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Alright sweetheart, whatever you say.”

***

About a week went by and honestly Dean had forgotten all about the puppy incident. They walked away from the shelter without adopting an animal much to the blue eyed man’s chagrin, but Cas didn’t seem too upset about it. Which is why when Dean comes home from a long day working at his uncle Bobby’s auto body shop to his boyfriend sitting crossed legged on the couch, laptop in front of him looking for houses in the area, he’s a bit confused.

“Cas, why are you looking at houses? I thought we were going to give ourselves at least another year, save up some more money yeah?” Dean questioned as he toed off his work boots by the door and walked into the kitchen to get a them a couple of beers.

“Well, you said that our complex doesn’t allow pets.” The raven haired man countered from his place on the couch, eyes glued to the houses he’s scrolling past on the screen. Two beers in hand, Dean wandered into the living room, set the open beer bottles on the coffee table, and plopped down on the couch next to his boyfriend.

“Wait, is this about that puppy we saw last week?”

The only answer he got was a ‘what do you think’ look. Dean raised his hands in a pacifying manner and chuckled. “Well, make sure you find a house with a fenced in yard and a garage for Baby.”

Dean honestly thought his boyfriend would drop the whole thing, forget about the house hunting and that damn puppy given some time. They’ve got a nice little apartment in their hometown, great jobs that afford them to have nice week long vacations and special anniversary dinners, a wonderful group of friends that are more family than anything, and their love for one another could move mountains. They don’t need the worry of a puppy right now.

“Babe, we don’t need the worry of a puppy right now!” Dean was getting close to his wits end. The puppy conversation didn’t go away like he thought. In fact, he’d accidentally made it worse. That off hand comment he made about a yard and garage had his boyfriend actively looking for the perfect house, for them and the nonexistent puppy they have.

He started to notice PetSmart bags being hidden in the back corner of their closet, full of random toys, bowls, a bright blue collar with matching leash, and treats, bookmarks about how to train a puppy, how to puppy proof your house, puppy blogs, and a Pinterest board! Dean didn’t even know what Pinterest was!

“The puppy wouldn’t be a worry Dean. I know Charlie or Sam and Jess would be happy to watch it when we’re gone for a long period of time, and I work from home so I can take care of it everyday!”

“I really just think we’re not ready for one yet!”

“Why wouldn’t we be? We’ve been best friends for 10 years, officially together for 3. We’ve been through so much together, I think we can handle a small puppy.”

“I know that Cas, I still just don’t know about this.”

“Well why the hell not Dean?!”

And that’s the million dollar question. He doesn’t exactly know why. Maybe it’s because growing up they moved around a lot and it wasn’t a conducive environment to have a pet so he never thought about getting one, maybe it’s because he had to take care of Sammy for most of his life and he didn’t want to have the responsibility of having to take care of another life again, or maybe he wasn’t ready to share his life with Cas with someone else. The last one is really silly, but he loves the way their life is now and he’s a creature of habit. Come home, drink some beers and eat some take out on the couch while they watch TV, have sex until one or both of them are too tired to move. Perfect life! Adopting a puppy was almost like having a baby and honestly? It kind of scared him.

“Can we talk about this another time Cas? I really just want to drink a beer and catch up on Game of Thrones.”

The only answer he got was a sharp glare and an angry huff before his boyfriend stomped off to their bedroom.

Fuck, he was in the doghouse now. How ironic.

***

“Hello Dean.” Usually, the deep, gravely voice of his lover saying his name like that would get him so hard so fast he’d get dizzy, but not right now. Right now, it’s the last thing he wanted to hear. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet, something about a meeting with his editor for his new book. Dean was sure he double checked the calendar before he left this morning. Shit.

“Heh, hiya Cas.” Dean gave a little guilty half wave and started to shift from foot to foot, green eyes looking everywhere but the steel gaze of his boyfriend. He’d been planning this surprise for about a month now, ever since they had their last major fight. It had ended with him sleeping alone in their memory foam king size for a week while Cas went and stayed with his brother Gabe on the other side of town.

It was a silly fight, over that damn puppy again. Of course.

They’d moved into a perfect little fixer upper only a couple of months ago and Dean was still working on getting settled. The whole process was a whirlwind, it went by so quickly, financed and signed in a matter of weeks, but they were ecstatic about the house so they didn’t care. It has a two car garage with ample storage for all things mechanical with room to fit Baby and Cas’ Pimpmoblie (as Dean likes to call it) and a half an acre of fenced in back yard, the two things Dean specifically said their house needed. Sure, the kitchen needed some updating, the dingy carpet needed to be replaced, and the bathrooms needed a little TLC but the master bedroom was huge with a walk-in closet and a master bath with a jacuzzi tub (that alone had Dean sold with a lot of innuendos and wiggly eyebrows happening when they first looked at the house) and they still had two extra bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms. Overall, it was an amazing experience and they couldn’t be happier.

Until last month that is. When Castiel started bringing up the little hound from the shelter again. What started as a silly little argument turned into an all out, full blown fight. Over a dog! Dean didn’t think they were ready to bring home a puppy yet still, they literally just moved into their first house together, but Cas was adamant that the house needed something else. Especially since he was home alone most of the day, which made Dean feel terrible. He didn’t say that though, of course, which is why Cas left to stay with Gabe for a week while Dean was left to stew in his misery.

During that week he was able to work past his issues with a puppy and come up with a plan. With the help of Sam, Jess, Charlie and a little push from Gabe he was able to adopt that little brown eyed hound from the shelter, prep the house, get the pup signed up for training classes, and work on crate and potty training. He wanted to show his lover that he thought about this and didn’t just go out on a whim to make him happy.

“Did you really think you could sneak past me? I've been waiting for you to get home for hours." Cas hissed his tan arms crossed across his chest, blue eyes blazing with fury.

“Actually I was hoping to surprise you.” Dean said softly before he opened their front door and gave a small whistle. Within seconds a happy little hound puppy came bounding up their front steps, stepping on it’s too long ears and tripping over the threshold with a small oomph. The green eyed man bent down with a chuckle to pick up the wiggly pup and was rewarded with puppy breath and wet puppy kisses.

Castiel let out a small gasp, the fur ball was wearing the blue collar he’d bought months ago. “Dean? Is that the collar I bought? Is he really ours?” He whispered unbelievingly as all the pent up anger he felt slowly disappear with just one look at his best friend holding the sweet little puppy.

Dean answered with a nod, gesturing with his head for his lover to come closer. The dark haired man stepped forward quickly, his eyes filling with love as he reached out and touched the velvety softness of the puppies head.

“Hi little one, aren’t you just the cutest thing ever?”

“I thought I was the cutest thing ever?” Dean quipped uncertainly, he was answered only with some eye rolling and a small huff.

“Dean? Do you have the little monster? He took off when you whistled,” Sam said while running into the house a little out of breath, arms full of toys, treats, food and water bowls, all the things that Cas hid in their closet plus some. He paused, taking in the scene in front of him. “Oops, sorry to interrupt! I’m just gonna lay these things here and I’ll be on my way.” With a nervous chuckle he emptied his arms on the floor by the door and gave Dean the ‘you better call me later or I will kill you’ look before swiftly turning around and all but ran out the door.

“Thanks a lot Sammy!” Dean yelled to his retreating brother’s back, he really owes him a lot. This wouldn’t have been possible without his support and his pet friendly apartment. “I’m sorry I’ve been acting really shady lately, I never meant to make you worry.” he whispered cautiously, stepping closer to Cas to let him take the 10 pounds of fluff from his arms carefully. Dean couldn’t help the small affectionate smile that spread across his face at the sight of his longtime boyfriend cuddling and cooing to the puppy.

With a huff Castiel stalked off towards the couch, but was still cooing softly to the bundle of joy carefully cradled in his arms. “Shady is an understatement.” He murmured without looking up, his blue eyes gazing lovingly at the brown and white doggy.

Dean treaded carefully over to the couch, sitting delicately on the arm as to not piss off his lover more by getting too close. “I just really wanted to do something special for you.”

Finally, blue locked with pleading green and Dean could see the cold melting from his boyfriend’s eyes. The sandy haired man scooted off the arm of the couch then, feeling more comfortable now that his lover was thawing. He moved close enough to be able to wrap a strong arm around his lithe waist, pulling the shorter man in close to his body.

“Thank you Dean.” Castiel said fondly, accepting the embrace fully. He leaned up to place a swift kiss to the underside of Dean’s stubbly jaw before picking up the puppy to look deep into it’s eyes. Cas got a lick to the nose in response, with a giggle he laid the puppy down in his lap so he could get comfortable in Dean’s arms.

“What are you gonna name him sweetheart?” Dean asked bemused, reaching out a hand to scratch behind the puppy’s ear.

“I think I’ll name him Jack.” With a happy little bark, it was settled.

Sure, their life would change drastically with a new house and a puppy, but the ring that’s hidden in the safe at Bobby’s shop says that Dean’s in it for the long haul and he wouldn’t change a thing.

@controloffandoms hope you enjoyed it! :)

#Katie's 400 Followers Challenge #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #destiel fanfic #destiel #castiel x dean #Dean Winchester x Castiel #castiel x dean fanfiction #fanfic #puppy #puppy love #fic about adopting a puppy #Castiel really wants a puppy #Dean is sooo not feeling it

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sunshine-captain · 6 years

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Hi! I asked Phoenix (horsegirlharry) for fic recs about star trek tos and she sent me to you! I am a new fan and in desperate need for some good fics since I am having a hard time finding them. I would be very grateful if you could link me to some. Thank you in advance

Oh my goodness!!! Hello my friend! I’m honored Phoenix directed you to me, I really am! To tell you the truth, they’re the one that actually convinced me to watch TOS from the start. Welcome to the fandom!!

To start off with, here is a lovely rec blog that is exclusively TOS (that I’m a mod on, so I am of course biased, but I loved the blog even before I was added, haha!) It’s not updated that often at the moment, usually just when I have some spare time, but there’s a lot of recs already added to look through, and there are plenty of tags to maybe let you look for tropes or genres that you like. :)

Alright, here go the recs!

Sha Ka Ree The year is 2258. Jim Kirk is a Lieutenant on the U.S.S. Farragut, Spock the science officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise. When the ships come together for a priority landing party, these two strangers find themselves fighting against the odds for a chance at life in an alien world, and the only way they’ll make it through is by relying on each other. This is a TOS fic that takes place seven years before the show begins. It’s one of my favorite fics ever, it’s beautiful and just perfect. It’s a lovely slow burn, and it contains one of my fave tropes: Jim (Kirk) and Spock crash on an alien world and get stranded there. So, so highly recommended! Honestly, that writer is amazing and anything by them I recommend.

Crash and Burn As the Enterprise’s celebrated voyage winds down, the tension between her captain and first officer escalates, and three days aboard Jupiter’s premier lunar station will change everything. Jim doesn’t handle change very well. Slow-build, character-study prelude to the Lost Years and TMP. Unhappy ending, but canon functions as a fix-it! As the summary states, this fic doesn’t end happily. But it’s basically an explanation as to why Spock does what he does prior to The Motion Picture (I’m not sure if you’ve seen the movies so I won’t clarify just in case you haven’t, haha!), which also means there is a happy ending after the events of the movies. I had it in my bookmarks under the tag I use for fics that hurt me (literally ‘ow’, lol) so apparently I found it pretty painful. ;__;

The Squire of Eros An old nemesis pays a social call to the Enterprise just in time for the annual Valentine’s Day party. On this occasion it’s Spock who draws the brunt force of his irritating personality. But when his holiday-inspired antics turn dangerous, it’s up to the Captain and crew to take him down, and Jim is forced to confront his long-evaded desires regarding his first officer. Written for the K/S Valentine Challenge at LJ, beta’d by purple_spock. This one isn’t even remotely as serious as the other two. It’s honestly just a lot of humor and lightheartedness for the most part. It features Trelane from TOS paying another visit to the crew. :D

Definitions “We call it t'hy'la,” Spock says. This one is so beautiful. It’s a relatively short oneshot (under 10k) but it’s so romantic and in character and just perfect (this author is another one of my favorites, I would read anything at all by them.)

Pattern Deviations A mind meld is the most intimate of any possible connection – to know and be known, wholly and completely. Usually, melds are advocated for leading to increased understanding and empathy. Spock wonders what it means, then, that everyone he melds with is so repulsed by his mind… Until he meets James Kirk, anyway. This is by the same writer as Definitions; another lovely oneshot by them. I love it!

And I Am Also Quite Blind In the aftermath of Spock’s blinding in Operation Annihilate, Jim tries to help him through his pain. A fic with premise that Spock doesn’t handily recover from his blindness in Operation Annihilate. Lengthy, painful, excellent. I try to avoid WIPs because I can’t deal with the pain of fics that are NEVER FINISHED, but I started reading this one when it was only halfway through and man, it sucked me in. Worth it! (And it has been completed now, so no worries, haha.)

Undone During first contact with the highly telepathic Nghians, an invasion begins on their home world. A powerful psychic attack cripples the populace–and Spock.Out of contact with the Enterprise and stranded on a planet at war, Jim must struggle to keep himself and his violent, unpredictable first officer alive. Another of my favorite writers! I love this fic. Lengthy, excellent, and that favorite trope of mine again (being stranded, heh), this is great. Please note the tags, though!

What I Am To You I say, “Ask me anything, Spock,” for perhaps the fifth time.This time, you respond, your gaze bright and penetrating, “Perhaps you could satisfy my curiosity in–one particular.”“Of course,” I say enthusiastically.You seem perfectly calm as you ask, “How long have we been lovers?” And I am certain I have heard you correctly, even as I struggle not to allow my astonishment to show on my face. Takes place after the events of the third movie. Spock tries to make sense of his and Jim’s relationship.

Spice It’s a question of biology. Vulcan biology.The problem with falling in love with a member of an insanely private species is that it just might take you the best part of a five year mission to work out that the feelings are requited. And then you might discover that he’s already decided that the two of you can never be together.And what are you supposed to do if he won’t tell you why? Honestly, I’m reccing this one with…some trepidation. I never did decide whether I actually liked the fic or not, but I know a lot of people do like it. It’s most definitely one of the longest fics I’ve ever read in this fandom. It’s the SLOWEST OF ALL SLOW BURNS, which you said you liked, and even though it made me SO ANGRY at one point that I almost threw my phone across the room when one plot twist happened, it’s well written and in character. The reason behind it all is…kind of silly, in all honesty, but it makes complete sense why Spock thinks it would be best if Jim wasn’t with him, just like him to be so overprotective. *sigh* I’d say definitely give it a try and see if you get sucked in!

Translating Ennoia Spock intends to resign his commission with Starfleet six months into the Enterprise’s mission. Then he meets Captain Kirk – his t'hy'la – and everything becomes infinitely more complex. This author again! This fic has lots of pining. I love pining. And I love happy endings and romance and watching Jim and Spock’s friendship develop, too, and this fic has all of that.

Dirty Laundry Jim keeps leaving dirty dishes in the sink and toast crumbs in the bed. Spock deals with the mess silently until an unfortunate ironing incident puts it all in perspective. Jim and Spock have to adjust to domestic life. Spock has to adjust to Jim’s messiness. Domestic Spirk is always wonderful, and I enjoy that in this one it’s not all perfect at first. They have to adjust and learn to actually live together.

Breaking Tradition Newlyweds James T. Kirk and Spock spend their Holiday shore leave alone together in a remote cabin once belonging to Jim’s grandparents. They learn more about each other and Jim introduces his new husband to the Winter Holiday traditions - even if he doesn’t quite understand why he take part in them himself. An unexpected event occurs that disrupts the couple’s newlywed bliss. Luckily, one of them has experience with taking charge of a situation. This one is sooo sweet. Jim just wants to share Christmas with Spock, but they have a mishap. But it’s okay, because Jim takes good care of Spock. (Features cold!Spock, one of my favorite things. :3 )

Ghost in the Machine Tom Paris stumbles upon a Pandora’s Box of loss and regret. This fic is the outlier in this list; it’s actually a crossover of sorts between TOS and VOY. I’ve not actually watched Voyager yet, but that doesn’t stop me from reading and enjoying the fic, so please don’t let that stop you! Let me tell you, though, this has to be one of the most painful fics I’ve ever read. It just makes me cry for Jim and Spock both. It’s so painful. But also really great. But I totally understand if you don’t want to read this one, haha! It’s not for everyone. It messed me up though, I kept thinking about it for days. Especially Jim as he is in this fic. Ugh.

Home Renovation Shortly before his first mission to Romulus, Spock buys a fixer-upper house with Jim. Although Jim is excited to begin renovating their new home, Spock worries it’s only a matter of time before his husband falls off a ladder and breaks his spine. Not to mention, the house’s derelict state is preventing Spock from enjoying his remaining time with Jim. Old Married Spirk, protective!Spock, perfection.

To Be Wed “With a human ruling alongside King Sarek, it makes sense that they would want a Vulcan to rule alongside you. Look on the bright side. At least it’s not Sybok."Prince S'chn T'gai Spock and Crown Prince Sam Kirk are pushed by their families into an awkward courtship, sure to become an awkward marriage. Meanwhile, the younger Terran prince just wants to make sure his future brother-in-law feels comfortable in his new home. But unfortunately for Jim, the road to hopeless, unrequited love is paved with good intentions. It’s an AU, obviously, and it’s by the same author as Sha Ka Ree (who as I mentioned is one of my favorite writers) and I just adore this fic, it’s so great! Pining, slowly getting to watch Jim and Spock falling in love even when it’s ill advised, Sybok!! I’m also just a total sucker for royalty AUs so that helps.

In My Own Skin After the events of Turnabout Intruder, Jim is trapped in Janice Lester’s body indefinitely and has to learn to carry on with his normal life and duties trapped in this body. Established relationship with Spock, but things become understandably difficult as a result of Jim’s situation. Complicating matters even further, the Enterprise is assigned to a difficult diplomatic mission with a new member of the Federation. I don’t know about everyone else, but my brain definitely went “what if Jim was stuck in that body…” after watching Turnabout Intruder, and this fic definitely satisfied that urge to see that explored.

Heat Trapped together in a cave until the storm ceases, Jim and Spock find some freedom outside the press of the ship and its responsibilities. Oh look….this writer again. :DDD You’re starting to notice a pattern here, I’m sure. This was written because of a prompt I gave, so obviously I’m a little biased, but it’s just SO perfect??? Cold!Spock, cuddling for warmth (another of my favorites, hello), and just so ROMANTIC that I almost can’t handle it.

Okay, those are all TOS, but now I have just a handful of AOS AUs:

Still, Like Dust Vulcans have been enslaved on Earth for more than fifty years. To Jim Kirk, 14, this is just one more chapter from his history book… until his uncle brings home a Vulcan boy to help on the farm. I know this fic isn’t for everyone, it definitely isn’t, but it really is a great read and I enjoyed reading it a lot. There’s a lot of pain, it’s true, but there’s also a happy ending, if that helps.

Inside The River Starfleet sends Jim a spouse and an oddly vacant honeymoon. Arranged marriage!AU, always fun, and an interesting mystery going on throughout. Great read!

That’s all I’ve got for you for now, this should be a start! Welcome again to the fandom, and I hope you find something in this list that you enjoy. :)

#slumber--parties #fic rec #space husbands #tos #and like two aos but i wont tag that lol #can't remember which tag i use for that...#long post #this got long sorry

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frejahertziswritingthistime · 6 years

Text

Teenage kicks chapter 8

A/N: AH! We’re so close to the end, and it both makes me sad and super happy. I really love this story, and I love that you guys love it – this story has been so fun to write, so I hope you’ll stay with it for the last two chapters.

This was born from a request from @theboundlesssoul, and I really hope you still like it!

This story is also dedicated to the amazing and sweet @redeyedvixen, and I’m hoping you love it as well.

Well, read on, my friends!

Remember, I always say yes to requests and feedback feeds the writer (please give me feedback, because I love it so much, even if it’s just a keyboard-smash)!

MASTERLIST

Teenage kicks masterlist

Buy me a coffee (and get something personal written for you!)

Pairings: Dean x reader

Warnings: language, implied smut

READER POV

I pulled the last box from my car, and sighed deeply, annoyed at the constant ache in my back; pregnancy was really not my fucking cup of tea. As I walked towards the small house, I spotted a shadow from the window; Dean had, to his credit, instantly jumped on board and had even bought a goddamn house – a really big fixer-upper – a few weeks later. I bumped the front door open with my hip, the box weighing heavier than ever. “Hey, asshole, maybe the not-pregnant man should carry the damn boxes from the car and to the house instead of the pissed off, pregnant woman!” I yelled through the house – Sam and Dean poked their heads out from the living-room, paint splatters on their face. Dean rushed to my side with a smile and took the box. “Kitchen.” I mumbled, ignoring the heat in my cheeks. Damn it all to hell, I was falling back in love with the fucking moron.

Fucking broken condoms.

I walked into the small living-room and looked around – it had been painted in a white, the hot sun gleaming off the still wet paint. Sam stood next to me, a paint-brush in hand. “when are you going to tell him? I mean, I know you’ve moved in together as co-parents here, but seriously. You can’t keep pretending to hate him.” Sam said, nudging my shoulder a little. I groaned. “Shut your mouth, Sammy-boy. I’ll tell him when I’m dead, how’s that?” Sam just shook his head, and bend down to be at eyelevel with my growing belly. I frowned. I couldn’t see my toes anymore. “How’s he growing?” I slapped his head. “Who says it’s a boy, you douchebag?” Sam grinned and stood up, ruffling my hair. “Listen, I’m going to get some stuff to fic your pipes, because you’d probably shower in rust, if we don’t get them fixed.” I nodded thankfully. “thanks, Sam. I know I’m giving you a hard time here, but you know, collateral damage and all that shit.” Sam just smiled and walked out of the house – Dean stepped inside the living room with a bottle of water and handed it to me.

“Where’s he going?” I turned to him. “Something about shitty pipes, I guess.” I sat down on the lone chair, we had assembled and sighed deeply. Dean stood in front of me with a look of uncertainty on his face. “Out with it, Winchester.” I said with raised eyebrows. He sighed.

“Listen… I just… I’m really happy you agreed to move in with me, and all that shit, but we need to figure out how this is going to work, okay?” I looked at him. He sat down on the floor in front of me. “We can’t keep doing this. Like, I love your snark and sass, and I get it, you think I deserve it, but our kid can’t grow up with you calling me an asshole or swearing at me half the time.” I nodded. “that’s fair enough.” I said, before sipping a little of my water. I felt the little bean kick around a little, almost as if it was too cold. I smiled softly. “Also…” Dean started, but clamped up again. “Seriously, dude, just fucking talk. The worst that happens, is that I try to waddle away, and you’ll catch up to me in five minutes.” Dean grinned. “Okay. I just… I wanted you to see something.” I raised my eyebrows, but he just smiled and stretched his hand out to me; I took it, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach (bean was always moving extra hard when Dean touched me) and pulled me out of my chair. He held on to my hand – I didn’t protest – and led me upstairs, where he had spent the majority of his time the last week. The entire house needed to be fixed – every part of it was full of cracks, peeling paint and rotten floors. I was worried whether or not it’d be done when I popped the fucking kid out, because at this rate, we’d only have new pipes and a bed to work with.

The house was small, but cozy. The first floor was comprised of a small hallway, that led from the stairs and down to three rooms – the master bedroom, a small room, which Dean had said he’d move into, and what would become the nursery. “Close your eyes.” He mumbled, leading me towards the nursery. I did what he asked, slightly worried he might just carve the kid out of me and leave. “Open them.” As I did, I couldn’t help but gasp; I wasn’t a girly girl, but I was tearing up at the sight in front of me. It was the nursery, completely finished.

Dean had painted it in a soft, green color, something reminiscent of a lake in the forest, and he had put a line of small stickers along the back wall; teddy bears, flowers, bees and a bunch of other shit, was plastered to the wall. He had assembled every piece of furniture, we had bought. The white crib was standing against the back wall, just below the open window, a white mesh hanging down over it – I could spot a teddy bear and a blanket in there, gifts from Sam. A rocking chair stood next to the door, a soft, fuzzy blanket thrown over it, and pictures hung on the wall – ultra-scans, pictures of Sam, pictures of Dean, pictures of them together, and pictures of me. Pictures, I didn’t even know he had taken. Some of me, standing in front of the house, just as we had bought it, cradling my stomach protectively. Some of me smiling of something unknown, me hugging Sam. It was truly beautiful. I felt a small pang in my chest when I realized, that there wasn’t a picture of me and Dean, until I was the picture on the wall next to me: I didn’t know this even existed. Me and Dean, looking around 16, were sitting under the willow-tree’s shadow in Bobby’s garden, grinning at each other, fingers weaved together. I was sure Sam had taken the picture way back when, and I silently thanked the little, big shit for doing that.

“Holy shit.” I didn’t know what to say. Dean stepped inside the room, pulling me along by my hand. “I got to tell you something.” I focused my eyes on Dean, who looked scared. “I know you think I was a dick. I was. Back when we were 16, I really was a fucking dickhead. No, not even that. I was the hole in the dickhead. I know you probably don’t believe it, but I seriously didn’t mean shit of what I was saying. I wanted to stay, I wanted to stay with you, but my dad had me convinced that a curse rested on us or some shit, and… Well, I didn’t want you to die. I should have tried to find you later. I should have done so much, but I was sure you’d be happier without me.” He drew a deep breath and locked eyes with me, his hand still clutching mine.

“I was so in love with you back then. I really, truly was. Sam knew it, I knew it, Bobby knew it. I thought… Anyway, when I saw you that day, where you saved our asses, I was blown away and I acted like a dick again. I think I just turned into 16-year old Dean again, and I was standing in front of you, drooling like a fucking moron, and I just…” H sighed – his hand was sweaty, and his eyes wet, but I couldn’t pull away. My heart was hammering in my chest, like I was a goddamn school-girl. “You know what? I want to be someone, you can love. I want to be that person, that you love. Because, whether you like it or not, I fucking love you. I love you, Y/N, and I love the kid, you’re brewing and I just… I love you.” He finally let go of my hand, and he stood there, in the middle of the fucking nursery, shaking from head to toe. And he had said those three magic words, the ones that I had half-way hoped to hear but didn’t expect to ever hear come out of his mouth.

“You’re calling me a brewery?” I asked. That was the first think in my head!? What the fuck!? Dean chuckled a little. “Sorry.” He was waiting for me to respond, and I didn’t know what to say. The idiot had just – again – turned my fucking world around, and now I had to take care of it again. I wanted to say something back to him, but I suddenly realized that I was terrified of him leaving me. I was scared to death, to stand alone with a kid, him just leaving with harsh words yet again, and I’d be left alone with lingering self-doubt and a kid on my hip.

But Dean stood there, looking so fucking frail and so far removed from everything I knew him to be, that I couldn’t think that this man, the one in front of me, surrounded by baby-stuff, would ever hurt me again. I didn’t know what to say, so I did the only fucking logical thing I could think of; I sprang on him.

Our lips met, and I instantly knew I was goddamn ruined. I was ruined by this man, this asshole in front of me, and his lips were on mine, desperate for more; I wrapped my arms around his neck and his fingers fell to my hips, gripping me tightly – my lips felt burning hot, and it felt so fucking right to kiss him. It felt as if a piece of the puzzle that was my fucked up life had finally fallen into place; damn him, for making me feel this way.

I pulled away by the need for air. I looked into his eyes and was surprised to see that they were wet with tears. “Did we put furniture in the bedroom?” I asked in a low voice. He looked confused. “yeah, why?” I moved slowly out of the nursery, backing into the bedroom behind me. “Because I think we should christen our bed.” I said, taking my shirt off.

It wasn’t heated or full of anger. It was slow, deliberate and intimate, a sense of absolute belonging as we were joined. My bump made it hard to do anything but to do it spooning, but it didn’t matter – it felt as if we were joined together, the slow, gentle thrusts making me cry out in joy. Dean was holding me tightly after spilling inside me, breathing deeply and resting his head against my shoulder.

“Is this okay?” He asked. I knew he asked about the whole ordeal – his confession, what we just did, what we did seven months ago, and I smiled softly, grasping his hand in mine.

“I’ll allow it.”

TAGLIST: @greenarrowhead ead, @baconlover001 @hobby27 , @trustnobodyshootfirst @mypage-myfandoms, @chicagolove88, @jenbarb10, @imascio08

FOREVERLIST: @supernaturalmagicfolk, @redeyedvixen, @al1y , @roonyxx, @sherlockstolemyname e, @tayyfvck, @heyitscam99, @starletzombie, @jensenyourdeanisshowing, @linki-locks11

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teamfreewill2pointo · 7 years

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Dean and Jack’s arc

I’ve seen some people arguing that Dean telling Jack he’s going to be the one to kill him at the end of 13x2 is OOC. I don’t believe it is, so I’m going to address the other instances when Dean has reacted to loss with anger, I’m going to explain why he reacts to loss with anger, and I’ll make some predictions about how I think their relationship will move forward. Basically, I think the situation is more of a repeat of 2.03 than 4.04

Major spoilers for 13x2

First, there are many possible interpretations of this scene. Jack’s actions may not be suicidal, Dean may not have thought of them as suicidal, and “I’m going to be the one to do it” may have been more of a promise than a threat. I love all those interpretations, but for this particular argument, I’m assuming that Dean coded it as suicide and meant it as a threat. My argument is that, even with the most negative view of his actions in that scene, it is in his character to react that way.

As Sam notes in 13x2, Dean’s whole life is built around protecting other people. When he thought that he could no longer save Sam, but would have to kill him, he was suicidal.

5x14

FAMINE: Yes. I noticed that. Have you wondered why that is? How you could even walk in my presence?

DEAN: Well, I like to think it’s because of my strength of character.

FAMINE: I disagree. (Famine moves closer to Dean and touches him) Yes. I see. That’s one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can’t fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex.

DEAN: Oh, you’re so full of crap.

FAMINE: Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can’t win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just… keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry, Dean, because inside, you’re already…dead.

Now Dean has lost Castiel, Mary, and Crowley. He thinks Sam’s too close to Jack and is going to get himself killed. Dean, who has built his life around protecting his loved ones, has failed to protect 3 people he cares about (I wouldn’t call Crowley a loved one, but he did care for him) and is completely unable to protect Sam, his last rock.

To understand Dean, I think the most important foundational aspect is to recognize that he never wanted to go into hunting.

1x11

DEAN: Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.

SAM: Are you serious?

DEAN: You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway….I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy.

He can’t even bring himself to say it because it’s a wish he can’t have. As long as his dad needs him, he’s going to stay with him because Dean is, at his core, a protector. A fixer.

7x1

DEAN: Imma fix this car. Because that’s what I can do. I can work on her ‘til she’s mint. And when Sam wakes up, no matter what shape he’s in, we’ll glue him back together too. We owe him that.

If he can’t protect or fix his loved ones, he gets frustrated and, as Sam notes in 13x2, he turns frustration into anger.

7x2

DEAN (on phone): You cannot be in that crater back there. I can’t… If you’re gone, I swear, I am going to strap my Beautiful Mind brother into the car and I’m gonna drive us off the pier. You asked me how I was doing? Well, not good! Now you said you’d be here. Where are you?

Now I could see some saying that he wasn’t serious when he made this comment, but Dean has a history of directing violence towards people in his vicinity, including loved ones, when he’s upset over loss in the early seasons. In later seasons, he still becomes violent when upset, although it’s less likely to be directed at Sam.

In 1x01, he pushes Sam against a bridge after Sam says “Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom’s gone. And she isn’t coming back.“

In 2.22, he yells at and pushes Bobby for suggesting they put Sam to rest.

In 7x03, he punches Sam hard enough to knock him flat and leave a bruise after Sam leaves in a situation where Dean’s already very keyed up and upset over people being lost.

In 2x03, which is a great parallel to our current situation Dean’s upset over John’s death.

DEAN: Yeah. Yeah, you know. He was just one of those guys. Took some terrible beatings, just kept coming. So you’re always thinking to yourself, he’s indestructible. He’ll always be around, nothing can kill my dad. Then just like that (snaps) he’s gone. I can’t talk about this to Sammy. You know, I gotta keep my game face on. (clears throat) But, uh, the truth is I’m not handling it very well. Feel like I have this -

GORDON: Hole inside you? And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker? Good. You can use it. Keeps you hungry. Trust me. There’s plenty out there needs killing, and this’ll help you do it. Dean, it’s not a crime to need your job.

Dean wants to kill a bunch of vampires that Sam begs him to spare because they haven’t killed people.

DEAN: What part of ‘vampires’ don’t you understand, Sam? If it’s supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That’s our job.

SAM: No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren’t killing people, they’re not evil!

DEAN: Of course they’re killing people, that’s what they do. They’re all the same, Sam. They’re not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.

As the conversation continues, Dean insists Gordon has the right idea and Sam tells him Ellen warned him about Gordon. It continues:

SAM: You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad’s dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can’t take it, but you can’t just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It’s an insult to his memory.

DEAN: Okay.

He starts to turn away, then punches SAM, hard. SAM pauses, turning back slowly, but not rising to the bait.

SAM: You hit me all you want. It won’t change anything.

DEAN: I’m going to that nest. You don’t want to tell me where it is, fine. I’ll find it myself.

Sam recognizes that Dean isn’t angry at him. Dean’s upset over the loss of their father and taking it out on Sam. Despite being angry enough to punch his brother, Dean ends up helping Sam save the vampires instead of slaughtering them. Gordon tries to remind Dean of their parallels.

GORDON: You’re not like your brother. You’re a killer. Like me.

…

DEAN: You know, I might be like you, and I might not.

So Dean does have a history of being angry after a loss, but why is Dean’s anger so openly directed at Jack?

First, there’s the possibility that Sam’s wrong and Dean’s right. Interestingly enough, one of these times where Dean is right and Sam is wrong around someone’s ability to chose good over evil is another character named Jack. I don’t believe that is just a coincidence.

In 4.04, we encounter a man named Jack who is a rougarou, although he doesn’t know it yet. Dean argues he must be killed. Sam argues that he can be saved. In the end, Sam kills Jack to save them both when Jack goes dark side.

Sam’s obsession with redemption and forgiveness is also one of his flaws and Dean recognizes this. Dean generally has better instincts than Sam, although not always.

Many times, Dean has given his trust only be betrayed, most recently at the hands of the British Men of Letters. Dean’s always been more cautious than Sam when it comes to trust in Supernatural creatures.

Another explanation is that he’s upset Jack opened the rift, which led to deaths of Castiel and (presumably) Mary. While I do think part of it is Dean blaming Jack for their deaths, I think it’s more than just that.

There are huge parallels between Dean’s actions now and seasons 2-5 along with 7. In 2-5, Dean was also given a save or kill option (instruction really). Since it was Sam, Dean refused to even consider the kill option, even when Sam literally begged him to.

2x11

SAM: I need you to watch out for me.

DEAN: Yeah. I always do.

SAM: No! No, no, no. You have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever … turn into something that I’m not … (beat) you have to kill me.

DEAN: (dismissive) Sam.

SAM: (shoving DEAN to face him) Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to.

DEAN: Yeah, well, Dad’s an ass. (SAM frowns in confusion) He never should have said anything. I mean, you don’t do that, you don’t, you don’t lay that kind of crap on your kids.

SAM: No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!

DEAN: Yeah, well, I’m not dying, okay? And neither are you. [ T_T ] Come on. Sam.

All of that changed in season 4. Dean experienced hell where he was physically and emotionally torn apart. Dean always had more black and white thinking when it came to monsters compared to Sam, but this is understandably turned up after his time in hell, where Dean’s experiences gave him PTSD.

On a personal level, my husband is a lot like Dean in that he used to be a combat medic because, to quote Harry Potter, he has a “saving people thing”. He went to Afghanistan and came back with much more anger than he ever had before, in part because of all the people he couldn’t save. One of the reasons I married him was because he never got angry before he left for combat. He’s out of the military now, and is doing much better now that we are in a civilian life. I’ve seen first hand how war and violence can corrupt a person who is inherently good.

In 4, Dean returned to a Sam that Dean could no longer trust not to go dark side. Personally, I’ve always wondered how much of this in due to Dean himself going dark side in hell. I suspect that some part of him thinks that anyone can be turned - it’s just a matter of time. And really, I think he’s right. They have to keep Jack safe from the angels and the demons. Jack is easily manipulated and led. Even if Sam and Dean do everything right, Jack could accidentally go big bad.

When Sam let Lucifer out of the cage, Dean fully lost his ability to believe in Sam.

5x1

DEAN: And I know how sorry you are. I do. But, man…you were the one that I depended on the most. And you let me down in ways that I can’t even…

DEAN pauses, struggling for words.

DEAN: I’m just—I’m having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. You know?

SAM: What can I do?

DEAN: Honestly? Nothing.

SAM nods a little, looking down: this doesn’t surprise him.

DEAN: I just don’t…I don’t think that we can ever be what we were. You know?

SAM nods again: this isn’t a surprise either.

DEAN: I just don’t think I can trust you.

SAM looks up: this he wasn’t expecting. DEAN shakes his head and walks away, pausing at the trunk of the Impala to look back, then gets into the driver’s seat.

When Dean no longer believed in Sam, he no longer believed in the power of love to save Sam, which he used to believe in seasons 2 & 3, when he still thought he could save Sam. We can see this clearly in season 5, when Dean decides to go say yes to Michael and explains why to Sam.

SAM: Well, do you think maybe you could take a half a second and stop trying to sacrifice yourself for a change? Maybe we could actually stick together?

DEAN: I don’t think so.

SAM: Why not? Dean, seriously. Tell me. I—I want to know.

DEAN: I just…I—I don’t believe.

SAM: In what?

DEAN: In you. I mean, I don’t. I don’t know whether it’s gonna be demon blood or some other demon chick or what, but…I do know they’re gonna find a way to turn you.

SAM: So you’re saying I’m not strong enough.

DEAN: You’re angry, you’re self-righteous. Lucifer’s gonna wear you to the prom, man. It’s just a matter of time.

SAM: Don’t say that to me. Not you…of all people.

DEAN: I don’t want to. But it’s the truth. And when Satan takes you over, there’s got to be somebody there to fight him, and it ain’t gonna be that kid. So, it’s got to be me.

In the end, Dean was wrong. Sam didn’t need someone to fight him - he needed someone to love him. It was love that saved the world. And what will it be this time? Does Jack need someone to fight him? Is he evil?

I suspect that Dean’s right and Jack will go dark side. I think that it’s likely Jack will kill someone the Winchesters care about. I suspect that Sam’s right and that love will bring him back on a redemption because that’s the ultimate theme of Supernatural. (And they enjoy handing out redemption arcs like candy.)

It was Sam’s faith in and love for Dean that stopped Dean from saying yes to Michael.

It was Dean’s faith in and love for Sam that allowed Sam to take control of Lucifer.

It was Sam’s faith in and love for Castiel that brought him back from the dark side and put him on a redemption path.

It was Dean’s faith in and love for Castiel that overcame his brainwashing.

It was Sam’s faith in and love for Dean that stopped him from killing Sam under the influence of the Mark of Cain.

It was Sam’s faith in and love for his friends and family that gave him strength to say no to Lucifer a second time.

It was Chuck’s love that stopped Amara from destroying the world.

It was Dean’s faith in and love for his mom that brought her back from brainwashing.

So why isn’t Dean giving the Power of Love a greater chance? The obvious answer is partly what I mentioned above: Jack can be manipulated and they’ve been burned before. Sam trusted Ruby and started the apocalypse. Dean trusted Gadreel, which resulted in the death of Kevin. They trusted the BMoL and were nearly killed by them.

I think it’s about more than that though. Dean’s never believed in himself as worthy of being saved, of having the possibly of being saved, so it’s hard for him to believe that others can be saved.

See Dean in 4x1 versus Sam in 2x13 on the subject of angels:

4x1

DEAN: I mean what are you?

CASTIEL: I’m an Angel of the Lord.

DEAN: Get the hell out of here. There’s no such thing.

…

DEAN: Well, I’m not buying what you’re selling, so who are you really?

CASTIEL: (frowning) I told you.

DEAN: Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?

CASTIEL: Good things do happen, Dean.

DEAN: Not in my experience.

CASTIEL: What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved?

2x13

SAM: I don’t know, Dean, I just, uh … (he sits on the bed) I wanted to believe … so badly, ah … It’s so damn hard to do this, what we do. You’re all alone, you know? And … there’s so much evil out there in the world, Dean, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up…

DEAN: (sitting on the bed beside him) Yeah, well, don’t worry about that. All right? I’m watching out for you.

SAM: Yeah, I know you are. But you’re just one person, Dean. And I needed to think that there was something else, watching too, you know? Some higher power. Some greater good. And that maybe …

DEAN: Maybe what?

SAM: (with tears in his eyes) Maybe I could be saved.

Just like Dean’s love for Sam allowed Sam to defeat the archangels and save the world, Dean was saved from his suicide mission by Sam’s belief in him.

In 5.18, Sam says that he could tell Dean wanted to say yes and asks why he didn’t.

DEAN: Honestly? The damnedest thing. I mean, the world’s ending. The walls are coming down on us, and I look over to you and all I can think about is, “this stupid son of a bitch brought me here.” I just didn’t want to let you down.

SAM: You didn’t. You almost did. But you didn’t.

DEAN: I owe you an apology.

SAM: No, man. No, you don’t.

DEAN: Just…let me say this. I don’t know if it’s being a big brother or what, but to me, you’ve always been this snot-nosed kid that I’ve had to keep on the straight and narrow. I think we both know that that’s not you anymore. I mean, hell, if you’re grown-up enough to find faith in me…the least I can do is return the favor.

It was Sam’s faith and love for Dean that pulled him back from that edge. In episodes 1 and 2 of season 13, Dean’s just a guy doing a job who’s lost almost everything and thinks he’s about to lose everything when Jack goes dark and kills Sam. Sam’s faith and love in Dean is no longer enough to pull Dean back from the edge because Dean thinks Sam’s faith and love is blinding him to reality of Jack (and I do think he’s right).

I predict that Castiel’s return will give Dean that space to have faith and hope again. From the very first moment that they met, Castiel recognized what Dean was lacking:

4x1

CASTIEL: This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.

It was Castiel’s betrayal and death in season 7 that sent Dean on a spiral dark enough to contemplate murdering Sam. With Castiel’s return mid season, Dean was able to have faith again.

Ultimately, although things may seem to go the way of 4.04, I’ll expect Dean’s journey with Jack will end up the same way he did in 2.03:

DEAN: I wish we never took this job. It’s jacked everything up.

SAM: What do you mean?

DEAN: Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives.

SAM: Okay.

DEAN: What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us…

SAM: Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.

DEAN: I know he did. But the man wasn’t perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill I didn’t even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.

SAM: You didn’t kill Lenore.

DEAN: No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.

SAM: Yeah, Dean, but you didn’t. And that’s what matters.

@chiisana-sukima

#dean winchester #Dean&Jack #jackedtfw #my meta #dean analysis #dean w #dean winchester meta #supernatural meta #spn meta #jack kline #supernatural #spn 13x02 #spoilers #spoilers supernatural #supernatural spoilers #spn spoilers #season 13 spoilers #mystuff

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doctor--idiot · 7 years

Text

birthday fic for @ilostmyshoe-79. this got a little out of hand. (wincest)

As the owner of the only flower shop in town, sitting right across from the post office, Penny knows everyone that walks in or by and everything that is going on.

Or rather, she used to.

It’s been a year on the dot now that the two young men – well, young by her standards – moved in down the block from her shop, and after all this time, she still hasn’t managed to get a read on them.

They are different than the other people in town. For one, they were strangers when they came and they’ve still got that outsider status among most of the other townsfolk. That’s just the way it is around here.

Most people pay them no mind – leave alone and be left alone – but Penny’s always been rather nosy. It’s not like she’s got a lot of alternatives. The flower shop is the only thing keeping her busy, and even on good days, it is far from crowded.

She remembers how the two men arrived. They pulled up in their sleek, black car, the sort that makes people lock their doors and peep out the window. The men were no different, an extension of their car, tall and handsome but with a look in their eyes that Penny only knows from way back when. They were the eyes of soldiers that had seen too much, had too many secrets to keep. They had a dark energy around them and she’s heard people tell their kids to stay away from them.

The house they moved into had been empty for a while before that, a real fixer-upper. Penny has to admit, they’ve managed to make it look almost presentable.

They are not the kind of people that frequent flower shops, so she’s never actually talked to them. She’s just seen them around. Heard they were brothers but they look nothing alike and she’s always assumed that it’s a cover for … an alternative lifestyle. It’s not her place to judge what they choose to reveal and what to keep hidden.

The atmosphere around them and around the other people in town has relaxed over the course of the year since they moved in, once it became clear that they aren’t dangerous, just a little odd. Odd and too secretive for Penny’s liking, but that’s mainly because she is bored out of her mind most days.

It’s been a slow morning in the shop and she is about to head out to the bakery around the corner to get lunch when the bell above the door chimes as someone enters.

Penny prides herself on not being easily being knocked off-course but even she falters for a moment when she looks up and it’s one of the men she is still so curious about. It’s the shorter one – truly a relative description –, the one with the short hair and the crease between his eyebrows. She can’t remember ever having seeing him up close.

His eyes don’t look haunted to her now, they’re clear, awake, and startlingly green. He looks around, unsure and thoroughly out of place.

“Can I help you?” she asks like she always does and his head snaps around to her as if he’s only noticing her now.

“Yes,” he says curtly but doesn’t elaborate. His voice is deeper than she expected but pleasant.

“Are you looking for something in particular?”

He nods. “Flowers.”

She smiles. “You’ve certainly come to the right place.”

His face scrunches up in a way that makes him look very young, although she estimates him to be in his early forties. It’s hard to tell sometimes and the older she gets, the harder it becomes. Young people all look the same. Young.

He laughs then, a brief, breathy thing. Self-conscious in a way that she wouldn’t have expected from a man this weathered and attractive.

“I gotta be honest,” he says, still in that deep baritone, “I don’t have the first clue about…” He makes a vague gesture, encompassing the expanse of her small shop.

He turns to her and smiles as if he’s just had an idea. “What kind of flowers would you like?” he asks.

He looks even younger then, boyish and excited and it’s so dazzling she almost takes a step back. He reminds her of her grandson in that moment but Jack’s twelve, still an actual boy and not a grown man.

She chuckles, can’t help herself. He’s so clearly out of his depth that she wonders who the flowers are for. She’s got an inkling but she can only assume. In any case, she goes ahead and picks out flowers trying to think of what kind her own husband would have liked.

She ends up with an assortment of white daisies, yellow gerberas, and a few orange roses, bundling them together with some greens.

She tilts her head at the man who is rocking on the balls of his feet, hands in his jeans pockets. “These okay?”

He nods enthusiastically and she has to suppress a snicker because he looks uncomfortable enough that she is sure he would accept anything she held his way. She wraps the bouquet in paper and rings him up.

He quietly says, “Thank you,” looking down at the flowers as he hands her a generous tip but his smile seems genuine when his eyes flicker up at her after all.

She can’t hold back any longer, she has to ask. “Anniversary?”

He pales a little and her heart immediately sinks. But then he recovers and his mouth curls back around that smile, the genuine one that makes her go slightly weak in the knees. She tells herself her time’s over, she’s out of the game. Especially with this man.

“Yeah,” he says, “Something like that.”

“You were right,” is the first thing Dean says when he lets himself into the house, “I don’t know shit about flowers.”

Sam doesn’t look up from his book. “Thank you for admitting it.”

Dean is silent then and that does make Sam look up. He stops dead at the sight of his brother, standing framed by the door arch of the open-plan kitchen, still wearing his shoes. He is holding a bouquet of flowers. It’s still wrapped in paper, so Sam can’t see the entirety of it but those are definitely flowers.

Dean brought flowers. Dean brought him flowers.

“Is this because of what I said about the yard?” he asks, “Because I was talking about planting. Those are—”

Dean’s brows narrow. “Sam, I may be clueless about flowers but I’m not an imbecile. These aren’t for the yard, I just…”

Sam’s too dumb-founded to say anything other than, “What?”

He knows what he’s seeing and he’s pretty sure – say, ninety-five percent – that it’s real but his brain refuses to process the fact that Dean, Sam’s brother Dean, is standing in their kitchen with a giant bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dean says, jolting Sam out of his little trance, “Will you just take them?”

Sam moves then. He gets up, leaving his book on the table without marking the page, and accepts the flowers from Dean who is practically thrusting them at Sam. He unwraps the paper and turns the bouquet over in his hands. It’s simple, yet beautiful.

“I don’t think we’ve got any vases,” he says because it’s the only thing to say.

Dean makes a grunting noise. “And here I thought we’d been completely domesticated.”

Sam snorts, taking in Dean’s uncertain face. There’s a brief moment where he feels like he should tease Dean about it, be the little brother whose job it is to give his big brother shit for things like this. But he realizes he doesn’t want to do that.

He grabs a measuring cup from the cupboard above the kitchen counter and fills it with water. It’s going to have to do until he can buy something nicer to put the flowers in.

“Did I miss a birthday?” he asks suddenly, glancing at the calendar next to the fridge out of habit. It’s June. He scowls. Their mother’s birthday was in June but he doesn’t remember which day. “Mom’s birthday?”

“Since when do we celebrate mom’s birthday?” Dean sounds honestly taken aback.

Sam shrugs. “Since when do you buy me flowers?”

Dean’s mouth opens but after a moment of nothing coming out of it, he closes it again. He sighs, then says, “Since now, I guess. I thought… I thought you might like them.”

“I do,” Sam says without hesitation. “It’s just … new, is all.”

Dean nods but he looks a little forlorn, as if he is second-guessing his purchase and Sam can’t have that. His hands settle on Dean’s hips and when Dean jumps slightly, he slides them around Dean’s back and dips his chin down for a kiss. He makes it last, unhurried and almost sweet, splaying his palms flat across the small of his brother’s back.

Dean grumbles, “’s just some flowers, no need to go all girly on me,” but he cups his hand around the back of Sam’s neck, twirling Sam’s hair around his index finger.

Sam kisses him again, still just as slow but with a little more intent, licking and nibbling along Dean’s bottom lip. Dean makes a small noise of content and Sam squeezes him briefly before pulling back. Dean blinks up at him, not moving, just breathing. His face is open, vulnerable in a way he rarely is, kissed-looking mouth and slightly dazed eyes.

“I love you,” Sam says because it’s the first thing that comes to his mind.

Predictably, Dean groans. “Ah shit,” he gripes, twisting out of Sam’s hold, “I’m never getting you anything ever again if it makes you this sappy.”

“It’s not sappy if it’s true.”

“It’s still sappy.”

Sam grins. “Well, you got me flowers. You can endure me being sappy about.” He tugs Dean back in, ignoring his wriggling, and kisses him again.

Dean harrumphs. “Never making that mistake again.”

Sam ignores him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re fucking welcome.”

Sam pulls away then, picks the flowers back up. He unravels the string that’s wound around them, and grabs a pair of scissors. He cuts the stems under the running water and returns them to the measuring cup. He frowns. They really should have gotten vases when they moved in.

To be fair, those aren’t exactly a priority for two guys who roll up with barely three duffel bags of belongings between them.

“Hey,” Dean says suddenly and reaches past Sam to where Sam’s iPod is plugged into the stereo and he flicks through the songs until he picks one and hits play.

The first line of lyrics make Sam’s mouth curl with amusement. “You don’t like that song,” he says.

“I like it fine,” Dean shrugs and Sam feels rather than sees the movement behind him, “I just think it’s a little overrated.”

Sam huffs, “Blasphemy,” and turns around then, leaning back against the kitchen counter. He finds Dean smirking at him. “What is it?”

Dean shrugs again, says nothing. He hums along to the song that’s playing, bobbing his head to the rhythm.

“No, really, what—” Sam cuts himself off as realization dawns. His eyes cut to the calendar again. A memory flashes, himself placing his signature on a piece of paper that officially lists Sam and Dean Winchester as proud homeowners of 34 Willow Avenue, and he remembers the date on the document now.

Dean’s humming has turned into off-key singing. “Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry.”

“Seriously?” Sam laughs. “You remembered our anniversary of moving here and you call me a sap?”

Dean doesn’t answer, just clicks his tongue and continues singing, all while still tapping his head from side to side. “This will be the day that I die..”

“Hey.” Sam nudges him. “Shut up.”

The music picks up then and Dean starts bouncing on the spot, shimmying his hips a little. “Did you write the book of love and do you have faith in God above?”

It’s not that Dean doesn’t have a good voice for singing, he does, it’s just that he couldn’t find the right key if it kicked him in the face, so Sam dashes forward, catching Dean off-guard and around the waist, pressing in and up against him while his other hand angles Dean’s chin just right so Sam can kiss him and shut him up effectively.

In between kisses, Dean mutters, “Well, I know that you’re in love with him,” speaking the words rather than singing them and Sam can’t stop himself from laughing out loud then.

“You know, for someone who claims they think the song’s overrated, you sure know your lyrics.”

Dean scrunches up his nose in defense, the corner of his mouth curling. “I’m just awesome like that.”

Sam chuckles and turns them around, walking Dean back against the counter. He slots his palms around the back of Dean’s thighs and lifts him, kissing him briefly before trailing his mouth wetly down Dean’s neck to his collarbone.

Dean gives a small gasp of surprise as Sam hoists him onto the counter, his legs clamping down on Sam’s sides on instinct, and his hand fists in Sam’s hair.

“Hell, what’s gotten into you?” he asks. “Is this because of the flowers?”

Sam huffs a laugh. “Yeah, sure, it’s because of the flowers.”

Dean’s arms come around his shoulders, his ankles crossed behind Sam’s back, and he pulls Sam back up into a kiss and there’s undeniable intent in this one.

Dean must feel Sam’s smile against his own lips because he asks, “What?”

“Nothing. I’ve just never fucked anyone to Don McLean before.”

He tightens his fingers around Dean’s thighs and Dean blinks, his pupils expanding, and he quickly licks his lips before his says, voice slightly unsteady, “There’s a first time for everything.”

They take it into the bedroom then, setting a new record shedding their clothes. Sam’s got Dean spread out on their broad mattress, kissing all the way down to his navel, and soon he’s slowly, wetly sinking into him and as Dean’s eyes roll into the back of his head, back arching, Sam asks, like he always does, “Okay?”

Dean hums an affirmative and then just keeps humming. He purses his lips, mouthing, “Bye bye, Miss American Pie…”

Despite the tight clench around his cock, Dean’s sweat-slick skin against his, and the tight knot of heat in his belly, Sam laughs. “Christ, shut up.”

Dean grins with his eyes closed. “Make me.”

#wincest #my writing #outsider pov #rating: m #bottom!dean #top!sam #post-series #kimsbirthdaychallenge

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