#that moment Dean yelled: you’re only playing sorry

[king0fcrows]

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[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bugs | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: BUGS lol, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 7012

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You and Dean decided that after your last job, you deserved a break. You went to a bar to play that eight-ball game you’d talked about back in Ankeny. The two of you were pretty evenly matched; you had to admit. He would win a game, then you would win a game, and that pattern continued for quite a bit. Then you’d swapped to nine-ball. The two of you walked away from the pool tables and found a table when you’d grown tired of playing with each other.

“I’ll admit, you’re pretty good, Winchester,” you told him.

“You too, sweetheart,” he responded, chuckling. 

“You’re never gonna stop calling me that, are you?” you asked.

“Nope.”

You pretended to be annoyed and rolled your eyes. “You suck.”

“You, too.”

You playfully glared at him. 

“You hustle?” he asked you.

“Duh,” you responded, taking a swig of your beer. 

He chuckled. “How ‘bout it? I’m low on cash after I paid off that morgue tech.”

“Hey, you did that on your own volition,” you joked back. “Nobody forced you to pay him off. And maybe you lost even more cash after you lost that poker game to me yesterday.”

He glared back at you. “I’ll get you next time.”

“Sure. So who’re you hustlin’?” you asked.

He scanned the room for a moment. “Them.” He subtly nodded in the direction of a group of guys who looked around your and Dean’s age. They seemed kind of douchey, and you’d love to watch Dean kick their asses if you were being honest. 

“Eight or nine ball?” you asked him.

“Nine.”

“Ooh, good luck,” you told him.

“I won’t need it,” he answered arrogantly and began heading over to the group. 

Your newfound friendship with Dean was slightly difficult for you due to your unbelievable attraction to him. The more you got to know him the more you began to like him for more than just his beautiful face. But you knew neither of you had the time for anything more than friendship, especially considering you knew you’d be hitting the road as soon as they found their dad. You chose not to focus on the finite amount of time you had with the Winchester boys and just enjoy it while it lasted. 

As much as you tried to push the thought away, you couldn’t deny that watching him hustle pool made you even more attracted to him. 

“Cute,” you told Dean sarcastically when he walked back over to your table waving a wad of cash in the air. “But I betcha I can get us double the money.” You snatched his money out of his hands. 

“Hey!” he said. “I earned that.”

“And I’ll earn it back,” you smirked over your shoulder. 

He quirked a brow at you as you “drunkenly” walked away, watching you head over to a pool table surrounded by another group of young guys. 

You wore a black tank top that showed off your cleavage, and stuck Dean’s money in the top of your bra while you sauntered over to the pool table. A tall blonde guy holding a cue stick was surrounded by his frat-boy posse hollering about how good the blonde guy played. 

“Fifty dollars to play!” One of the boys yelled.

“I’ll play,” you piped up, looking down at the table set for nine-ball.

You pulled some cash out of the top of your bra and placed it on the rim of the pool table. 

“Uh, sweetheart,” the blond began, “That’s only twenty.”

“Oh, sorry,” you snorted out a laugh, putting thirty dollars on the table. 

“She’s hammered, dude,” one of the blond’s friends told him.

The blond waved him off, still looking over you. He handed you a pool cue with a smirk. 

“You break.”

You fumbled with the cue before lining up your shot. After you hit the cue ball, you allowed the wooden stick to slip clumsily out of your hands. The balls flew all over the table in different directions because you had struck them so hard. However, you had not managed to pocket a single one. 

The blond lined up his shot. Managing to keep the dopey look on your face, you mentally smirked at his amateur hand bridge. This guy would be easy to beat. With his friends cheering him on, he pocketed the yellow one-ball but missed the shot he took at the nine-ball. The nine-ball was in the perfect position for you to win on your next two shots, but you were not going for the big bucks just yet.

“Your turn, baby,” the blond told you. 

You resisted the urge to cringe at the nickname. You had never liked being called “baby.”

Instead, you gave him a wide smile, walking up to the cue ball. You went to aim for the four-ball, but the blond stopped you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Aiming for the pretty purple ball,” you replied innocently. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“You have to aim for the two-ball. You ever even played before?” he asked jokingly.

“No,” you smiled.

He was not expecting that answer to his jest, his face dropping out of the smile. “Then why are you playing for money?”

“I thought you were cute and wanted to play with you.” 

The blond smirked down at you. 

Before he could respond, you said, “C’mon! I wanna keep playing. This is fun.” You lined up and hit the two ball, knocking it only a little bit closer to the pocket than the blond had gotten it. 

He ended up sinking the two-ball and then the nine-ball after that, his friends cheering for him. He took the money off the table. “Maybe next time.”

“Ooh, can we play again? Please?” you whined. 

He looked around at his friends. They all shrugged. 

You took all of the money out of your bra, including fifty dollars of your own to compensate for the fifty you just lost. You did promise Dean you would double the amount he had earned, after all. 

The blond laughed nervously. “Uh, that’s a lot more than fifty dollars.”

“Is it?” you pretended you were surprised. “Oh, well. We’ll just play for whatever this is, then.”

One of the blond’s friends, a brunet, was already counting the money. “This is three-hundred dollars, man.”

“Look, you’re really drunk. That’s a lot of money,” the blond said. “Let’s just stop.”

“No,” you begged, “please? It’ll be fine!”

He finally conceded, collecting a total of three hundred dollars between himself and his friends. 

On the break, he hit the one-ball and the five-ball ended up falling into the left side pocket. However, on the shot he took at the nine-ball, he missed. 

You hit the two-ball, sank it, and clapped excitedly. You aimed for the three-ball next, hitting it between the right side and back pockets. The ball hit the wall and stopped only two inches off of it, giving the blond no shot at sinking it on his next turn. 

He ended up pushing the three-ball and the cue ball into the perfect position for you to hit the red ball into the hole. Once you sank the three-ball, you lined up the cue behind the cue ball and hit the nine-ball into one of the pockets. Blondie and his friends stood there slack-jawed. 

“I won!” you cheered, giggling. You gave Blondie a kiss on the cheek when you took your money. 

You walked back over to Dean with your hips swishing confidently. Smirking, you held up your winnings. 

He took them from your hands, counting the money. “Damn. I’m impressed.”

You feigned shock. “Dean Winchester? Impressed by something I did?”

“Can it, (Y/N).”

You walked outside of the bar with Dean at your side. You waved the money in your hand back and forth triumphantly as you approached the Impala that Sam sat atop flipping through newspapers. He looked disapproving. “Y’know, we could get day jobs once in a while.”

"Hunting's our day job,” you countered. 

“Yeah, and the pay is crap,” Dean added. 

“Amen.”

“Yeah, but hustling pool? Credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world, guys,” the younger brother argued.

“Well, let's see, honest—” Dean began, and you held out one hand palm-up for “honest,” “—Fun and easy,” he finished.

You held out the other hand, representing a scale, tipping it to the side of “fun and easy.” 

“It's no contest,” you shrugged. 

“Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do,” Dean added.

Sam was still not convinced. “Yeah, well, how we were raised was jacked.”

“Yeah, says you,” sassed Dean. “We got a new gig or what?”

“Maybe. Oasis Plains, Oklahoma— not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob.”

“Gesundheit,” you commented.

“Human mad cow disease.” Sam shot you a playful glare. 

“Mad cow. Wasn't that on Oprah?” Dean asked.

“You watch Oprah?” you responded.

The older brother looked embarrassed and couldn’t think of anything to say. He decided to change the subject. “So this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?”

“Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less,” Sam stated.

You nodded slowly. “Oh-kay, that is weird.”

“Yeah. Now, it could be a disease. Or it could be somethin' much nastier,” Sam told you.

“Alright. Oklahoma,” Dean said, beginning to get in the car. You and Sam followed suit. “Man. Work, work, work,” the older Winchester sighed. “No time to spend my money.”

“You mean our money,” you said, handing him three hundred. You kept the other three. 

“Right.” He put the money in his wallet and began driving off. 

***

Dean had driven you to the gas and power company the deceased had worked at. You approached a man with shaggy hair and a scruffy chin who you had learned from another employee was the man who discovered Dustin’s dead body.

“Travis Weaver?” Sam called.

“Yeah, that's right.” The man turned to you.

“Are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty?” Dean asked.

“Dustin never mentioned nephews. Or a niece,” he responded.

“Really? Well, he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest.”

You nodded, affirming Dean’s lie.

Travis smiled sadly. “Oh, he did? Huh.”

“I hate to ask you, but… what exactly happened out there?” you asked.

“I'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh... by the time I got back…” he trailed off, face contorting in discomfort.

“What did you see?” Dean questioned.

Travis shook his head. “Nothin'. Just Dustin.”

“No wounds or anything?” Sam chimed in.

“Well, he was bleeding... from his eyes and his ears, his nose. But that's it.”

“So you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?” Dean asked.

“I don't know. That's what the doctors are sayin'.”

“I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel right to me,” you added. “Uncle Dusty just never acted like that to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if it was, he would’ve acted like he had dementia, a loss of motor control, you ever notice anything like that?” you asked.

“No. No way. But then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?” 

“That's a good question,” Dean responded.

“You know, can you tell us where this happened?” Sam asked.

Travis nodded. He instructed Dean the path to follow in order to find the scene of the incident. Surrounding the sinkhole he had fallen in was police tape, but the neighborhood it was in seemed mostly uninhabited except for a few construction workers milling about.

“Huh.” Dean looked down into the hole. “What do you think?”

“I don't know. But if that guy, Travis, was right, it happened pretty damn fast,” Sam responded.

You ducked under the tape and looked down into the hole with a flashlight. 

“So, what? Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?” Dean’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

You shook your head. “No, there'd be an entry wound. Sounds like this thing worked from the inside.”

“Looks like there's only room for one,” Dean commented. “Hate to say it, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to get down there.”

You flinched back. “What? No. We have no idea what’s down there.”

He picked up a nearby coil of rope. “Alright, I'll go if you're scared. You scared?”

“No. Dick.” Your stubbornness would not let you back down despite the genuine fear clawing at your throat. When you were younger, your father would often starve you to ensure you could fit into small spaces such as the hole you were about to journey down. You had no doubt you would’ve grown taller than 5’6” had he not done this. Even still, you mustered your courage. “I'm going.”

“I said I'd go,” Dean argued.

“I'm going,” you pressed, taking the end of the rope from him. You tied it around your waist. “Don’t drop me.”

“I won’t.”

“Sam, don’t let him drop me.”

Sam chuckled.

“What?” Dean sounded offended. “You don’t trust me?”

“Nope,” you smiled, clambering down into the hole. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but when they did, you were surprised by what you’d found.

Dean drove, and Sam was examining the dead beetle you’d found in the sinkhole. Some bugs you could handle, but beetles were not one you could spend prolonged periods of time looking at. 

“So you found some beetles. In a hole, in the ground. That's shocking, (Y/N),” Dean quipped.

You shook your head. “Dude, no. There were no tunnels, no tracks, nothing. No evidence of any other creature down there.”

“You know,” Sam added, “some beetles do eat meat. Now, it's usually dead meat, but…”

“How many did you find down there?” Dean asked you.

“Ten.”

“It'd take a whole lot more than that to eat out some dude's brain, Sam.”

“Well, maybe there were more,” his brother argued.

“I don't know, it sounds like a stretch to me,” Dean responded.

“Well, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood. Whether something like this has ever happened before,” you added. A sign advertising an open house decorated with red balloons caught your eye.

Sam was looking back at you. “What?”

“There.” You pointed to the sign. 

You passed another that read, “Models Open. New Buyers' BBQ Today!"

“I'm kinda hungry for a little barbeque, how 'bout you?” Dean remarked.

Sam gave him a look.

“What, we can't talk to the locals?”

You snickered. “And the free food's got nothin' to do with it?”

“Of course not. I'm a professional.”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Right.”

Dean pulled over and the three of you got out of the car to walk toward the open house.

“Growin' up in a place like this would freak me out,” Dean remarked.

“Ditto,” you said.

“Why?” Sam looked at the two of you like you were crazy. 

“Manicured lawns, ‘How was your day, honey?’ I'd blow my brains out,” Dean chuckled.

“White picket fence,” you sing-songed, “private school, stay-at-home moms with three snotty children— no thanks.”

“There's nothing wrong with ‘normal,’ “ Sam rebutted.

“I'd take our family over normal any day,” the older Winchester said. He approached the house and knocked on the door. 

A man in a steamed collared shirt opened the door. “Welcome,” he said.

“This the barbeque?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, not the best weather,” he replied, referencing the gray sky, “but... I'm Larry Pike, the developer here. And you are... ?”

“Dean. This is Sam and (Y/N).” He shook Larry’s hand.

“Sam, Dean, (Y/N), good to meet you. So, you three are interested in Oasis Plains?”

“Yes, sir,” the older brother responded.

“Let me just say—” You had no idea where Larry was going with this— “we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or... sexual orientation.”

You realized what he was trying to say. “They’re brothers. I’m just a friend.”

Larry nodded and seemed slightly embarrassed.

“Our father is getting on in years,” Sam explained, “and we're just lookin' for a place for him.”

Larry laughed awkwardly “Great, great. Well, seniors are welcome, too. Come on in.” He guided you to the backyard where dozens of people were chatting and eating. “Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what, we built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house. We're the first family in Oasis Plains.” He brought you over to a woman around his age. “This is my wife, Joanie.”

“Hi there,” she smiled.

Larry introduced the three of you to her before saying, “Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses.”

She laughed. “Right.”

This painfully fake interaction you were having reeked of Middle America. It was making you sick. 

Larry left you alone with Joanie who said, “Don't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live.”

A very energetic woman with bright, Ariel-red hair pulled back in a tight bun approached your group. “Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales,” she grinned.

“And Lynda was second to move in,” Joanie went on. “She's a very noisy neighbor, though.”

Even Lynda’s laugh was obnoxious. “She's kidding, of course. I take it you three are interested in becoming homeowners.”

Before any of you could answer, she said, “Well, let me just say that we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or... sexual orientation.”

Dean chuckled. “Right. Um... I'm gonna go talk to Larry.” Dean began walking away. “Okay, honeys?” He smacked you on your ass as he left.

You nearly yelped in surprise. The rest of your interaction with Lynda became very awkward. You were barely interested in what she was saying about the various features of the home. “Who can say "no" to a steam shower? I use mine everyday.”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Sounds great.”

Sam noticed something just beyond her, saying, “Excuse me,” and pushing her out of the way. What he had picked up off the picnic table was a large tarantula. You noticed a snickering boy with shaggy brown hair a few feet behind where Lynda had been standing. 

Sam walked over to the boy. “Is this yours?”

The boy took the spider from him. “You gonna tell my dad?”

“I don't know. Who's your dad?”

The teen scoffed. “Yeah, Larry usually skips me in the family introductions.”

You sucked air in through your teeth. “Ouch. First name basis with your dad— sounds pretty grim.”

“Well, I'm not exactly brochure material,” the kid remarked.

“Well, hang in there. It gets better, all right? I promise,” Sam said.

The kid didn’t seem convinced. “When?”

You heard Larry call the name, “Matthew!” You turned to see the older man and Dean walking toward you.

“I am so sorry about my son and his... pet.”

‘Clearly there’s some issues there.’

You shook your head. “No big.”

“Excuse us.” Larry’s face was set and hardened, pulling his son away from you and the boys.

“Remind you of somebody?” Sam asked his brother. He was gesturing toward the arguing father and son. “Dad?”

“Dad never treated us like that,” Dean argued.

“Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. You don't remember?”

“Well, maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes, you were out of line.”

Sam scoffed. “Right. Right, like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bowhunting.”

“Bowhunting's an important skill,” Dean replied. You agreed with him, but chose to say out of the brotherly debate.

“Whatever. How was your tour?” Sam asked.

Dean turned on the sarcasm. “Oh, it was excellent. I'm ready to buy. So you might be onto somethin'. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here.”

“What happened?” you questioned.

“About a year ago, before they broke ground, one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead while on the job. Get this severe allergic reaction to bee stings.”

You nodded. “More bugs.”

***

Later that evening, Sam was driving you and Dean through the neighborhood. You put your head on Dean’s shoulder over the back of the front seat as he flipped through his father’s journal. He had looked at you strangely and tensed up when you’d first rested your head on him, but you just shrugged in response. To your surprise, he allowed you to stay there.

“You know, I've heard of killer bees, but killer beetles?” Dean shook his head. “What is it that could make different bugs attack?”

“Well, hauntings sometimes include bug manifestations,” Sam replied.

“Yeah, but I didn't see any evidence of ghost activity,” the older brother said, referring to his house tour.

“Me neither,” you added.

“Maybe they're being controlled somehow. You know, by something or someone,” Dean stated.

“You mean, like Willard?” Sam chuckled.

“Yeah, bugs instead of rats.”

“There are cases of psychic connections between people and animals - elementals, telepaths,” Sam continued.

“Yeah, that whole Lassie thing,” you commented. You were thoughtful for a moment. “Larry's kid— he's got bugs for pets.”

“Matt?” Sam seemed unconvinced. “He did try to scare the realtor with a tarantula.”

“You think he's our Willard?”

“I don't know. Anything's possible, I guess.”

Something caught Dean’s attention. “Ooh, hey. Pull over here.”

Your head perked up. 

Sam pulled into the empty driveway of one of the Oasis Plains homes. “What are we doing here?”

Dean got out of the car and began pulling the garage door up and open. “It's too late to talk to anybody else.”

Sam scoffed. “We're gonna squat in an empty house?”

“I wanna try the steam shower. Come on,” his brother responded simply.

Sam didn’t move. 

“Come on!” Dean urged.

Sam rolled his eyes but complied and pulled into the driveway. Dean closed it behind him.

To your surprise, the home was fully furnished. You assumed it was for staging house tours. You and the boys were thankful to find three beds within the home, avoiding the awkward task of deciding who was going to have to sleep with who. And for the first time in quite a while, you slept incredibly well on the soft mattress and plush pillows.

***

The next morning, you found Sam remaking the bed he had slept in down the hall from yours. He had the police scanner quietly droning on in the background.

“How’d you sleep?” you asked, yawning.

“How do you think,” he replied dryly.

“That’s what I was worried about.”

Sam sighed.

“Dude, we gotta get you right,” you told him. “You’re gonna end up really hurt.”

Before he could respond, the static of the police scanner coming alight with conversation caught your attention. Male voices spoke back and forth about a death that happened in what you recognized as the Oasis Plains area.

“You finish cleaning up; I’ll get Dean,” you told Sam, who nodded. Dean had been serious about indulging in the steam shower. He’d been in the guest bathroom since you woke up that morning.

“You ever comin' out of there?” you called through the door.

“What?” he responded.

You could still hear the water running. “A call came in on the scanner.”

“Hold on.”

“Someone was found dead three blocks from here. Come on.”

The door opened a bit to reveal Dean and his towel-wrapped head. Steam poured out into the hallway. “This shower is awesome,” he smiled.

You laughed in response. “Come on.” You walked away to finish helping Sam gather your things and hide the fact that someone had been here. 

When you arrived at the crime scene, a body bag was being wheeled out on a stretcher. You found out from a visibly upset Larry that the realtor, Lynda Bloome, had been the one to pass away. The three of you discovered about a dozen dead spiders underneath a towel near where the outline of her body had been mapped out, and decided to pay Matt a visit. 

It took a few hours, but you discovered where Matt went to school and followed his bus route. You watched when he got off the bus.

“Isn't his house that way?” Dean pointed in the opposite direction of where Matt was walking. 

You nodded. “Yup. So where’s he goin’?”

The three of you began following the teenager from a bit of a distance. Unfortunately for you, he headed into the woods. 

“Seriously, kid?” you muttered. “Always the fucking woods.”

Dean chuckled at your discomfort. 

“Shut up, asshole,” you quipped.

Sam approached Matt first. “Hey, Matt. Remember me?”

“What are you doin' out here?” he asked, surprised.

“Well, we wanna talk to you,” Dean responded.

“You're not here to buy a house, are you?”

You shook your head.

“W-wait. You're not serial killers?” Matt began backing away from you.

“No. I think you’re safe,” you smiled.

“So, Matt... you sure know a lot about insects,” Sam began.

“So?” he shrugged.

“Did you hear what happened to Lynda, the realtor?” Dean asked.

“I hear she died this morning,” Matt responded.

“Mm, that's right. Spider bites.”

“Matt... you tried to scare her with a spider.” Sam’s tone was accusatory without being harsh.

“Wait. You think I had something to do with that?”

“You tell us,” you responded.

Matt scoffed humorlessly. “That tarantula was a joke. Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy.”

“You know about those?” Now you were the one being accusatory.

“There is somethin' going on here. I don't know what... but something's happening with the insects. Let me show you something.” Matt shouldered his bag and led you deeper into the woods. You hoped he knew where the hell he was going and how the hell to get back.

“So, if you knew about all this bug stuff, why not tell your dad? Maybe he could clear everybody out,” Sam suggested.

“Believe me, I've tried. But, uh, Larry doesn't listen to me.”

“Why not?”

“Mostly? He's too disappointed in his freak son.”

Sam scoffed. “I hear you.”

Dean seemed surprised. “You do?”

Sam gave him a look before turning back to Matt. “Matt, how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Well, don't sweat it, because in two years, something great's gonna happen.”

“What?”

“College. You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad.”

Dean was upset. “What kind of advice is that? Kid should stick with his family.”

Sam sighed and glared at his brother. 

You tried to break the tension. “How much further, Matt?”

You knew Matt felt awkward, too. “We're close.”

Sam glared at Dean once more before continuing walking. Moments later, you reached a large clearing. As you’d been approaching, the sound of insects buzzing had gotten louder and louder. Hundreds of them flew about the clearing. 

“I've been keeping track of insect populations. It's, um, part of an AP science class,” the teen explained.

“You two are like peas in a pod,” Dean remarked.

Sam ignored him. “What's been happening?”

“A lot. I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles... you name it. It's like they're congregating here,” Matt went on. 

“Why?” Dean’s brows knitted together. 

“I don't know,” he responded.

You caught sight of a dark, bumpy patch of grass a few feet away. “What’s that?”

Matt looked at you and seemed curious as well. He led you once more over to the pile. Your skin began to crawl at the sight of hundreds of wriggling earthworms. Dean accidently stepped on a pile of them and it sank into the ground. You pulled him back by the arm to avoid him falling, too. You let him go, and he crouched to the ground. He used a stick to poke around. He then dropped the stick and stuck his hand straight into the hole. When his hand came back up, he was holding a human skull covered in dirt and worms.

“Gnarley,” you said. 

***

Sam suggested bringing the remains to the department of anthropology at a local university. “So, a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave,” he said as you approached the building.

“Maybe it is a haunting,” you added. “Pissed off spirits? Unfinished business?”

“Yeah, maybe. Question is, why bugs? And why now?”

The older brother quipped, “That's two questions.”

Sam ignored him. 

Dean continued. “Yeah, so with that kid back there... why'd you tell him to just ditch his family like that?”

“Just, uh... I know what the kid's goin' through,” his brother shrugged.

“How 'bout tellin' him to respect his old man, how's that for advice?” Dean’s tone was sharp.

“Dean, come on.” Sam stopped walking, and you and Dean followed suit. “This isn't about his old man. You think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about.”

“Just forget it, all right? Sorry I brought it up.” Dean shook his head. 

“I respected him. But no matter what I did, it was never good enough.”

“So what are you sayin'? That Dad was disappointed in you?”

“Was? Is. Always has been,” Sam bit back.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because I didn't wanna bowhunt or hustle pool— because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which, to our whacked-out family, made me the freak.”

“Yeah, you were kind of like the blonde chick in The Munsters,” Dean grunted.

“Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud. Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house.”

You were accustomed to their normal sibling spats, but this was different.

Dean kept pushing. “I remember that fight. In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases comin' out of your mouth.”

“You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad... I don't know if he's even gonna wanna see me.” The brunet sounded sad.

“Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you. Never. He was scared.”

“What are you talkin' about?”

“He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talkin'... he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could.”

Sam’s smirk faded.

“Keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe,” Dean finished.

“What?” Sam’s puppy dog eyes were back.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn't you tell me any of that?” the younger brother asked.

“Well, it's a two-way street, dude. You could've picked up the phone.”

Sam stared at him sadly.

“Come on, we're gonna be late for our appointment,” Dean grumbled. 

***

The professor you’d gone to see at the college informed you of a Euchee tribe outside of Sapulpa that the bones Dean had found might have belonged to. The three of you now headed over to a diner one of the local Native Americans had directed you to. He had told you how to find Joe White tree, a bit of a patriarch of their group.

You found him playing cards at his table in the diner.

“Joe White Tree?” Sam asked.

The man nodded.

“We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right.”

Dean continued for his brother, saying, “We're students from the university—”

The man cut him off. “No, you're not. You're lying.”

Dean seemed taken aback. “Well, truth is—”

“You know who starts sentence with ‘truth is’? Liars,” Joe responded.

Dean looked at you and Sam strangely. 

“Have you heard of Oasis Plains?” you asked. “It's a housing development near the Atoka Valley.”

“I like her,” Joe told Dean. “She's not a liar.”

You smiled. 

Joe turned back to you. “I know the area.”

“What can you tell us about the history there?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

You considered for a moment. “Something bad is happening in Oasis Plains. I think it may have something to do with a Native American grave we found there.”

“I'll tell you what my grandfather told me, what his grandfather told him,” Joe began. “Two hundred years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the American cavalry came to relocate them. They were resistant, the cavalry impatient. As my grandfather put it, on the night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals, the cavalry first raided our village. They murdered, raped. The next day, the cavalry came again, and the next, and the next. And on the sixth night, the cavalry came one last time. And by the time the sun rose, every man, woman, and child still in the village was dead. They say on the sixth night, as the chief of the village lay dying, he whispered to the heavens that no white man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up and protect the valley. And it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white man as the cavalry had brought upon his people.”

“Insects. Sounds like nature to me. Six days,” Dean stated.

“And on the night of the sixth day, none would survive,” Joe finished his story.

Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look with you. 

“Thank you, sir,” you said. 

Joe nodded at you before you and the boys headed off. 

“When did the gas company man die?” Sam asked after you had made it outside.

“Uh, let's see, we got here Tuesday, so, Friday the twentieth,” Dean responded.

“March twentieth?” You thought for a moment. “That's the spring equinox.”

“The night the sun and the moon share the sky as equals,” Sam finished. “So, every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger. Larry built this neighborhood on cursed land.”

“And on the sixth night— that's tonight,” Dean finished.

“If we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise. So how do we break the curse?” 

“You don't break a curse. You get out of its way. We've gotta get those people out now,” Dean said sharply. 

The three of you got in the car and sped away.

***

Dean drove while he spoke with Larry on the phone. “Yes, Mr. Pike, there's a mainline gas leak in your neighborhood… Well, it's fairly extensive. I don't want to alarm you, but we need your family out of the vicinity for at least twelve hours or so, just to be safe… Travis Weaver. I work for Oklahoma Gas and Power… Uh…” He panicked and quickly hung up.

Sam gestured for the phone. He learned from Matt that his backyard was crawling with cockroaches. He urged him to get his family out of the house, and Dean told him he needed to, under no circumstances, tell his father the truth about what was happening. 

When you arrived at the Pike residence, Larry rushed out of the house. “Get off my property before I call the cops.”

“Mr. Pike, listen,” Sam urged.

“Dad, they're just tryin' to help,” Matt pleaded from the doorway.

“Get in the house!” Larry ordered.

Matt addressed you and the boys. “I'm sorry. I told him the truth.”

“We had a plan, Matt, what happened to the plan?” Dean grunted through his teeth.

“Look, it's 12:00 AM. They are coming any minute now. You need to leave now, before it's too late,” you told Larry.

“Yeah, you mean before the biblical swarm,” he replied humorlessly.

“Larry, what do you think really happened to that realtor, huh? And the gas company guy? You don't think somethin' weird's goin' on here?” Dean questioned.

“Look, I don't know who you are, but you're crazy. You come near my boy or my family again, and we're gonna have a problem,” Larry told you.

“Well, I hate to be a downer, but we've got a problem right now,” the older brother responded.

“Dad, they're right, okay? We're in danger.” 

“Matt, get inside! Now!”

Matt stepped further out onto the porch. “No! Why won't you listen to me?!”

“Because this is crazy! It doesn't make any sense!” Larry yelled back.

“Look, this land is cursed! People have died here. Now, are you gonna really take that risk with your family?”

“Wait!” you shushed the group.

Everyone went silent.

“You hear it?”

From a distance away, there was a faint buzzing that got louder and louder rapidly.

“What the hell?” Larry muttered. 

The fluorescent bug light on the porch began overheating; killing several bugs at a time. The buzzing got even louder. Millions of bugs blanketed the sky, heading straight to you.

“Oh my God.” Your breath quickened. “Everybody in the house, now!”

You and Dean held up the rear of the group, and you felt his hand on your back guiding you inside. You locked the door behind Dean.

“Okay, is there anybody else in the neighborhood?” Sam asked Larry.

“No, it's just us.”

Joanie entered the room. “Honey, what's happening? What's that noise?”

“Call 911,” Larry instructed her. “Joanie!”

She seemed caught off-guard. “Okay.” She picked up the phone and began to dial. 

“I need towels,” Dean told Larry.

“Uh, in the closet.”

Sam and Matt went upstairs while you and Dean packed the base of the front door with the towels you found.

“Phones are dead,” Joanie informed you.

“They must have chewed through the phone lines.” Dean shook his head as the lights went out.

“And the power lines,” you grumbled.

Larry tried his cell phone only to get no signal.

“You won't get one. They're blanketing the house.” Dean looked towards the windows that were beginning to darken from the thousands of bugs collecting on them.

“So what do we do now?” Larry asked.

Sam had come back downstairs with Matt. “We try to outlast it. Hopefully, the curse will end at sunrise.”

“Hopefully?” Larry’s eyebrows raised in shock.

You looked to Dean. “You have your zippo lighter?” 

He seemed to catch on to what you were suggesting and nodded. The two of you broke off to the kitchen and found bug spray under one of the cabinets.

Joanie seemed unimpressed when you returned with the can.

“Just trust us,” you told her.

A creaking sound from the fireplace caught your attention.

“What is that?” Matt’s voice was higher pitched than normal.

“The flue,” Sam answered.

“Alright, I think everybody needs to get upstairs,” Dean ordered.

Suddenly, thousands of bugs poured into the living room from the fireplace, swarming all around you. Dean used his zippo to light the can of bug spray. “Alright, everybody upstairs! Now! Go, go, go!”

You covered your ears and ran upstairs to the attic with Sam and Dean close by you. You could hear bugs thumping against the attic hatch door; trying desperately to get in. There was only a few moments reprieve before you heard gnawing above you.

“Oh, God, what's that?” Joanie cried.

“Something's eating through the wood,” Dean replied.

“Termites,” Matt added.

Dean ordered the family to get back from the spot where sawdust was beginning to descend and bits of moonlight were coming through. Moments later, bugs began to fill the room through the chewed in spot. You and the boys frantically tried to patch the hole, swatting bugs away from you like a madwoman. You were able to shove a board of wood with another under it to hold it up, but that only worked for a second. Two other holes were chewed through the roof, raining bugs down on you. You covered your ear with one hand and swatted bugs away with the other. You and the boys backed up into the Pikes, who were huddled in the corner. Dean tried his best to light the bugs up, but nothing was working. Then, miraculously, the sun began to rise. Thankfully, all of the bugs began to fly out of the holes they’d chewed through the roof. You watched through the same holes as they flew up toward the sun. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

***

The next morning, you and the boys were about to head out of town but stopped by the Pike residence on the way. You approached the moving van that Larry was loading boxes into.

“What, no goodbye?” Dean joked.

“Good timing. Another hour and we'd have been gone,” Larry answered. He shook your hand.

“For good?” you asked.

“Yeah. The development's been put on hold while the government investigates those bones you found. But I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again,” Larry explained.

“You don't seem too upset about it.”

“Well, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career, but…” He looked over to Matt, who was carrying a box in the garage. “...somehow, I really don't care.”

You smiled at him.

Sam walked over to Matt, who was throwing away all of his insect paraphernalia. You looked on fondly as the two smiled and laughed. You bid Larry goodbye and went over to the car with Dean. Seconds later, Sam joined you.

“I wanna find Dad,” the brunet said.

“Yeah, me too,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah, but I just... I want to apologize to him.”

“For what?”

“All the things I said to him. He was just doin' the best he could.”

“Well, don't worry, we'll find him. And then you'll apologize. And then within five minutes, you guys will be at each other's throats.”

You laughed. “I wanna find him, too.”

The boys looked at you strangely.

“I wanna kick his ass to hell and back for leaving you two alone.”

Dean shook his head. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”

“Well, whatever they are, they aren’t good enough,” you quipped. “And I wanna thank him. If it weren’t for him, I never would’ve met you two.”

Sam smiled at you fondly at y0u. Dean had a look on his face you couldn’t quite read.

“I thought we agreed on no chick flick moments, (Y/N),” Dean remarked. “C’mon, let’s hit the road.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian

[girlboypersonthingy]

I GOT AN ANON REQUEST FOR KEITH X READER CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT 😩 I’m sorry, anon but here it is! ✨ Keith is so baby 🥹

Keith x reader ~ Childhood friends to lovers ❤️‍🔥

You met at the garrison when you were barely teens, when Keith’s hair was shorter and he NEVER opened his mouth in public.

It’s not that he didn’t like you when you first met, he just didn’t want to like you. He was comfortable being a loner and didn’t want to put in the effort a friendship requires

But you were just so nice to him. He lowkey loved and hated it at the same time. He wanted to ignore you like he did everyone else but you wouldn’t leave him alone and he felt too guilty to tell you to go away. You noticed he was always alone so you tried to offer him some kindness.

He kinda wanted you to leave him alone but you didn’t and eventually, he started to looked forward to seeing you everyday. Seeing you run to him with a smile on your face and an extra lunch bag in your hand for him made him feel important. He’d never admit any of that to you tho.

One day, you weren’t at school and the whole day was just off. He didn’t feel right, he felt sad and invisible as he walked past all his classmates in the hall. He felt like no one truly saw him besides Shiro, who was often too busy to really give Keith attention, and you.

The next day when he saw you, he came up to you first!!!

“Where were you yesterday?” “I had a doctors app-“ “Next time, tell me you’re gonna be gone. I was worried.” He reached out for your hand, holding it between his own cold hands. “Oh…okay. I-I’m sorry, Keith.”

Omfg he was worried about you? After one day??? How cute!

From then on, you two were inseparable, the best of friends. He went to you every time he was really sad and needed support or when he was extremely angry and needed to just rant and yell to you. He confided in you so much, he trusted you more than anyone else. He told you the ugly and embarrassing secrets he’d never told anyone else before.

That day that he punched Griffin, after going to the dean’s office he found you outside reading. You could tell he was upset as he stomped over to you, making you immediately toss your book aside and give him your full attention.

“Keith? You okay? What happ-“ He flopped down in the grass beside you, laid on his side with his head resting on your thigh and began crying. He made sure to keep it quiet and keep his face hidden from you but you could feel him shaking. Unsure of what to say, you just began playing with the hair covering the nape of his neck. He LOVED the physical affection. He didn’t talk to you at all that afternoon, he just cried in your lap for a while then hugged you tight and went home.

That moment was when you both began to catch feelings. He loved that you were so kind and accepting of him, always so comforting. You never pressured him to talk to you, your presence alone was enough to calm him down.

You loved that he trusted you and always protected and checked up on you. He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask with your pretty smile and soft eyes and he’d comply.

As you both grew up, he came to love your praises. You always told him how smart he was and how amazing he was at piloting, he couldn’t get enough. You fed his ego so much.

He was and still is terrible at returning the compliments. He’d often offer you constructive criticism instead, which took some getting used to but made you realize that he genuinely cared for you and only wanted the best for you.

You’d often walk hand in hand around the garrison and if anyone gave you two a weird look or tried to tease y’all about being a couple, Keith would literally bark at them while keeping your hand in his grip. “Fuck off! Mind your business…” and you liked his fiery personality. He was your scary guard dog.

When Keith got kicked out of the garrison, it broke both of your hearts. He was completely lost without you or Shiro around and you couldn’t sleep well at night for over a month bc you were so worried about him. Just like that, he had disappeared.

It was a while until you finally found him in that shack in the desert. You had gotten a tip from a teacher at the garrison while they were talking about him being a recluse and how he would sneak out to that shack in the middle of the night just to be alone and enjoy the quiet.

You found it one day and sort of just barged in, catching him half dressed and sleepy in his bed. “Keith?” He sat up abruptly, fists up defensively. “(Y/N)? How…what…?” His hands dropped to his sides as he stared at you in surprise. You ran and hugged him tightly, smiling as he hesitantly hugged you back.

He looked different…his hair was longer, he looked like he had been working out a lot and the bags under his violet eyes were very prominent.

You decided the garrison just wasn’t for you and you’d rather be with Keith. It just wasn’t the same there without him so you left it all behind and began visiting him every day.

He had never been so depressed and anxious before you found him and now that you were back in his life, he slowly but surely began to smile and eat more and act like his normal moody self.

The night finally came that you helped him rescue Shiro and he told you he’d be forever in debt to you for helping him save his brother. After getting Shiro to safety and settling everyone down, he pulled you outside his little shack so you could be alone together and he hugged you so tight it almost hurt as he cried on your shoulder. This time, his tears seemed to be from happiness and relief. He finally had his support system back ❤️‍🩹

Once you found yourselves in space together, his attitude changed a bit. He was much more busy and irritated and quiet all the time. Being a young adult out in space with the tremendous pressure of defending the universe took its toll on him.

You just gave him space and tried to keep yourself busy as well. He wasn’t sure if he liked the space or not.

As you all began to get into the swing of life out in the cosmos, Keith began coming around to you more often.

“Wanna come train with me? It’s boring by myself.” You were way too excited to spend time with him. You missed him so much while he was being distant. This moment changed everything. You two were inseparable again.

The whole team noticed that you had a way of getting him to soften up and relax when he was really frustrated. Everyone knew that you two loved each other but would never admit it to the other.

Finally, loverboy Lance steps in. He had to get y’all together. Keith is so dense and only seems to open up to you. You both just need a push from Lance the matchmaker.

He goes to Keith first and Keith shuts down the whole idea. He is terrified to lose your friendship by pushing a relationship on you so he totally rejects Lance’s help. He even tries to tell Lance that he only sees you as a friend but we all know he’s a terrible liar.

When Lance approached you, you couldn’t help but confess your burning love for Keith. You love him more than anyone in the world and you were also scared of making the friendship awkward by confessing to him. But Lance is the best wingman in the world. He would never let you fail.

Lance helped you come up with the right words to say and also tried to get you to practice some pick up lines, to which you just scoffed at him.

Finally, the day had come. You were gonna tell him how you really feel, how you’ve been feeling all these years.

You approach Keith’s door, waiting a few seconds before your shaky hand knocks.

The door slides open and a small smile grows on his lips. “What’s up?” You walk past him and into his room without asking permission, finding a seat on his bed. He was confused as to why you didn’t even smile at him like you normally do. “(Y/N)…are you okay?” He came to sit beside you, watching you with worried eyes.

“Listen…I uh…I have something to tell you but you have to swear, promise me that you’ll always be my friend…” Keith’s cheeks begin to flush as he nods slowly. He’s pretty sure he knows what’s about to come out of your mouth. “I promise.”

“I…I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. You…you mean the entire universe to me and I just want to call you my boyfriend. I don’t want to ruin our friendship so I understand if you don’t-“

“Shut up. I love you too…more than anyone. Let’s just date already.” And now his face is burning red hot as he avoids your gaze.

You guys fell into it so quick and smooth. It was an easy transition from best friends to lovers. You shared your first kiss just a few days after making it official.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you ever since that day you told me you were worried about me when I wasn’t at school.” This makes him smile bigger than you’ve ever seen him smile before.

“Yeah? Funny…that’s when I first wanted to kiss you too.”

There’s no one else he’d rather be with. You are his person and he is yours, forever and ever and ever ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[justmeinadaze]

Don't Be So Hard Part 5 (Steddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: 😈

Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N, SMUT, light spanking, light degrading (good slut), and everything else that comes with these three. FLUFF, they love each other.

ANGST *ballet dances with a baton of angst*: Eddie asks Theo for a favor, Steve is upset with Hopper and screams at him, snaps at Y/N but immediately apologizes, something happens during Y/N's play (think Steven King), The boys defend her and put Martin in his place, cliffhanger ending (because I can :)), I think those are all the biggies. Readers weight is mentioned once but its more Steve talking about what she looks like shouldn't matter. Its really brief.

Word Count: 5452

Series here/Donate to Me <3

“What the fuck do you mean there’s nothing you can do?!”, Steve shouted as you listened from outside of the locker room. “HE HURT…he hurt the man I love, destroyed school property, and let’s not forget assaulted a young woman and you’re telling me he’s just going to get away with it?”

“I’m telling you there’s only so much I can do without proof, son. I did press on him and his father so I don’t think he’ll be doing anything anytime soon—”

“You don’t think?!”, the coach hisses. “How am I supposed to go back to Eddie with you think?”

“Control the attitude, Harrington.”, Hopper growls in a gruff tone. “Look, I know you both have been through a lot. I know; I was there remember? But I have a process I have to follow. Just… keep an extra eye on him and I told the dean if anyone even blinks and sees Martin on campus to call me.”

Steve doesn’t reply and after a few moments the door gently opens as the chief stomps out the door. Quickly, you sneak in and just you enter his office something flies past you, shattering on impact.

“Y/N! What the fuck are you doing in here?!”, he bellows causing your eyes to widen and the little girl inside you to tremble. “Shit…honey, I’m so sorry. C-Come here.”

 On instinct, you cower as he steps forward, giving him pause before trying again with a much softer tone. 

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just upset at Hopper and worried about you and Ed and—”

You promptly cut off his run on sentence as you wrap your arms tightly around him and he does the same, pressing your head into his chest. You understood his reaction and didn’t blame him for it. He and Eddie both had been on edge after what happened and occasionally they would snap at you without meaning to.

With everything they had already been through, you were surprised they were even able to hold themselves together as well as they had. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s ok, Steve.”

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t be yelling at you like that. Why did you come by, hm? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to check on you and then I was going to watch the game tonight. Theo told me you said he was doing well.”

“He is. Actually, doing a lot better than Martin ever did.”, he chuckles. “Is someone coming with you? To the game I mean…so you aren’t alone.”

“I’ll be ok, baby, I promise.”

“I’ll take that as a no. I want you to sit as close to field as you can, alright? So I can keep an eye on you just in case.”

Smiling softly, you press up on your toes to kiss his lips before turning to leave and bumping body first into the new quarterback.

“Whoa, tiger! I don’t know if you know this but this is the MEN’S locker room.”, Theo laughs. “Come on. Let me walk you to your car.”

Taking your hand in his, he walks with you towards the parking lot to guide you towards your vehicle. 

“You don’t have to hold my hand. I can manage to at least stand on my own two feet to get where I’m going.”, you laugh as he beams your way but you see something off in his eyes as they fall to the concrete. “What? What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That.”, you repeat as you gesture absently to his face causing him to let out a little sigh. 

“Professor Munson told me not to say anything till he spoke with you and Coach Harrington but…he thought it’d be a good idea to pretend we were dating so some people in the town would get off your back especially with how I defended you at the meeting. They know I’d never let anyone hurt you. You’re my friend.”, Theo grins as he swings your arms between the both of you. “I told him no at first because I didn’t want to seem like…I don’t know…I was coming in between you guys.”

“How so?”

The boy pauses as he tugs you to a stop. 

“Y/N, I’m not blind or stupid like everyone else in this fucking town. I also saw the way you held him when he was breaking down.”

“I-I-I have no idea what you’re—”

“Hey, hey, hey it’s ok. It’s consensual right? I mean they aren’t hurting you or forcing you right? When I told that to Professor Munson and he realized I meant well, he said he loved you.”

Your eyes take him in as he speaks but you still pause remembering the promise you made both men. 

“No matter what, that secret stays with me.”

Choosing just to nod, he continues as you begin walking again. 

“I understand, Y/N. If you ever need to talk or anything I’m always here for you. I think you’re a pretty cool person and you deserve to be happy. If they do that for you then who am I to judge ya know?”

Grinning wide, you give your friend a quick hug as he pats your back gently.

“Good luck tonight.”

Theo chuckles lightly as he holds open your car door, allowing you to climb inside, and slams it shut. 

####################

Doing what Steve requested, you took a seat in the row above the field just a stones throw away from the team. As he paced watching his players, his eyes flicked towards the stands, catching your gaze as a small smile flickered across his lips. 

“He always looks so sexy right before a game, doesn’t he?” Your head swivels towards Eddie at his sudden voice as he takes a seat beside you. “Steve gets that over concentrated face where his jaw tightens and his eyes zero in. Fuck, I love it.”

“Is it ok for you to sit this close to me?”, you ask in a whisper as he continues to watch ahead while the players run their drills. 

“Probably not but I don’t really care right now. With everything going on I’m not letting you too far out of my sight.”

Nodding, you mimic him as you glance towards the field. 

“Is it true you told Theo to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes ma’am. I told Steve about an hour ago so that explains the slightly stick up his ass demeanor.”, he breathily laughs but even you could see the pain behind his eyes. 

“Eddie, we don’t have to do that…”

“Yeah we do. After the way he protected you at the meeting, I feel like people will know to stay back and if Martin tries something without us there at least with that kid by your side we’ll know you’re safe.”

“Eddie Munson.”, you murmur as you twist your body so your knee bumps his eliciting a little smirk as he finally turns your way. 

“I wish we could outright claim you, sweetheart, but we can’t right now. Not everyone is going to be as open minded as Theo and if they or Martin come after you, you’ll need someone close enough to watch your back. Trust me.”

You would give anything to be able to hug him but you know you can’t and it kills you. 

After a while, the game begins and the town promptly warms to the new quarterback as he leads Hawkins University to victory. When the game ends the boy runs to the stands with his helmet in hand and his eyebrow quirked as if to say, “Are we doing this?”

Nodding, you tap into your actress mode and smile wide as you lean over the rail to quickly kiss his lips. With a quick caress of your cheek, he’s gone and as you glance towards both men, Steve has his arms folded as he glares at the ground while Eddie had completely disappeared from the stands. 

***

Everyone got into their places and the play began like it should. Through the glare of the lights, you noticed Eddie and Steve were front and center, beaming with pride while calming any nerves you had. 

“Alright everyone, are we ready?”, Lilah asks as her actors continue to finish getting dressed. 

Tonight was the night of the play and all of you pulled your efforts together to rebuild the sets while continuing to rehearse. The student body voted to keep the production and for that you were thankful. Someone was coming by tonight to see your acting prowess and depending on how everything went could decide your future. 

As the scene came with you and Theo in the container, however, the energy changed. 

Something wet landed on your arm and when you went to wipe it off, you realized the red substance smeared along your skin. Just as your gaze shifts upwards to find the source, you gasp as you and your friend are trenched in red paint.

People in the audience gasped as well before your theater teacher hastily closed the curtain and opened the side door of the container you both were standing in so you could step out. 

“I’m going to kill that mother fucking asshole!”, Theo shouts. “Are you ok, Y/N? Y/N?”

The boy turned his attention to you realizing only then you were sobbing as your body shook and you fell to your knees. 

“Ok, everyone clear the stage. I’ll tell the audience the production will be postponed and call Hop…”

Eddie skidded to your side as both men appeared with a bunch of rags. While the metalhead tried to clean your face, Steve handed Theo a few who utilized them to clean himself. 

“What the fuck happened?”, the coach grumbled trying to control his intense anger.   

“I’m not sure but I can give you one guess…’Hey Hop…’”, Lilah replied as she tried to control her own fury.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll take her back to her dorm.”, Theo added as he collected you in his arms and guided you to his car but not before whispering to your professor on the ground beside you, “I’ll take her back to your place. Meet us there.”

###################

“I’m sure they’re fine, Y/N.”, your friend tried to sooth as your leg bounced at the guy’s kitchen table. 

“It’s been over an hour, Theo.”

“Maybe, Chief Hopper needed them to go to the station to make a statement or—”

While the boy speaks, the front door opens with a stoic Eddie and Steve coming through with the latter throwing his gym bag to the side. 

“Are you two ok?”, your professor asks as his dark eyes scan you both over. “You didn’t want to shower?”

“Uh, no sir. I wanted to make sure she was taken care of first. Plus, I thought it might make you guys more comfortable if you could visually tell…that, um,…”

“That you both didn’t shower together?”, Steve finishes for him. “Don’t worry, son. I’m sure Eddie wouldn’t have asked you to pretend with Y/N if he thought you still wanted to fuck her.”

At the man’s words, Theo stands up straighter as your head ticks to the side. Something isn’t right. Granted things on campus had been crazy and someone had just pulled a Carrie on you while on stage but it didn’t sound like the anger they had been displaying these past couple of weeks. If anything, it didn’t sound like anything. 

They sounded…numb.

“Ok, I’ll, um, head home but if you need anything let me know.”

“No problem. Hey, Theodore?”, Eddie called causing the boy to pause with his hand on the knob. “The reason you didn’t shower was because you stayed with Y/N at her dorm to make sure she felt safe, right? We even came by to check on her about fifteen minutes later and the three of us left at the same time.”

You rose to your feet as your eyes locked with Steve’s. 

“Yes, sir. You even walked down with me to my car to make sure I got their safely.”

Your professor nodded and as soon as Theo left, he turned to face you as well.

“What did you two do?”, you growl in a whisper. 

“Are you alright?”, Eddie asks in a cold tone that has you searching his features desperately to figure out what headspace they were both in. 

“What. Did. You. Do?”, you respond a bit more firmly.

“We handled a problem.”

“Answer my fucking question or I swear to God I’ll leave right now!”

“HEY! You don’t fucking talk like that to us, little girl. If you want to leave be our fucking guest.”, Eddie bellows matching your annoyed tone with a domineering one of his own. “It’s best if you don’t know.”, he mumbles as he shifts around you to head for their bedroom. 

“Did you want me to take you home?”, Steve asks as his shoulders deflate.

Before you can answer a knock on the door causes everyone to freeze except for Eddie who quietly reenters the living room. 

“Go into the laundry room and shut the door. We’ll come get you when the person leaves. Stay quiet.”, the metalhead instructs, their eyes following you as you do what he says. 

Hiding in the dark, you listen as the coach answers the front door and allows whoever it is entry to their home. 

“You both are fucking stupid. Do you know that?!”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about, Hopper.”, Steve replies as he places himself next to Eddie. 

“Oh, you don’t know, huh? You don’t know that Martin Click was jumped about an hour ago? Black eye, broken nose, and his living room was trashed.”

“Hm, well shit.”

“Don’t pander to me, Munson! I’m not a fucking idiot!”

“What do you want me to say, Jim?! I’m sorry the kid got hurt but he assaulted an innocent girl, trashed our offices, and ruined Lilah’s production by pouring paint on two students! I’m surprised someone didn’t beat his ass sooner.”

“Really? That’s the game we’re going to play? So you have no idea how he got hurt?”

“No. We went to the dorms to check on Y/N and Theo. We were there for a couple of hours and literally just got back home. You can check with them both.”, the coach answered calmly. 

You didn’t move a muscle let alone breathe as you listen to the Chief struggle to control his angry breaths. 

“You both better fucking hope there is no evidence that leads to you because his father is furious.”, he grumbles gruffly before you hear their front door open and slam shut.

Slowly emerging from your hiding spot, you stay in their hallway as both men turn to face you. 

“What did you do?”, you ask again in a whisper but there’s something in your tone underneath this time that has them standing up straighter. 

“We drove to his house where the little shit was by himself getting ready to go out. He answered the door with a sassy fucking tone…”

“Coach Harrington. Professor Munson. Or should I say Steve and Eddie since I’m fucking expelled?” Both men were completely unamused as the boy laughed in their face. “How can I help you tonight and make it quick I’m going somewhere.”

Steve’s gloved hand connected with Martin’s face, startling him as he fell backwards on the floor and Eddie hastily shut the front door. The former jock’s head tilted as he watched tears stream down his former student’s face. 

“What’s the matter, Mr. Click? Thought you’d get away with everything you did without any consequences? Thought you could hurt someone and nothing would happen?!”

“I didn’t hurt anyone!”

Eddie lifted him off the floor just to hit the boy again. 

“Have you actually seen the movie Carrie? I know you didn’t read the fucking book because based on your reports you bothered to turn in I’m surprised you can even write words.” At his insult, Martin tries to fight back but Steve kicks him before lifting him to his feet and shoving him against the wall so his boyfriend can continue. “In the movie, after blood is poured on Carrie, the bucket falls and kills her date. Lilah said she found a bucket of paint hanging just above Theo and Y/N’s heads.”

“Nothing happened! It was just a prank to get back at her!”

“For what!? For existing!? For not looking the way you feel like is acceptable!? For physically choking her!?”, the coach screams into the boy’s face as he flinches. 

“Nothing may have happened but it could have. The empty bucket could have hit her or even a full one if you didn’t tie it right. Add in the fact that paint is much heavier and toxic. If any of that had gotten into her mouth or eyes—”

“I-I-I didn’t think…I’m sorry…I swear I’ll leave…leave her alone.”

“Oh, Mr. Click, we know you’re not smart. I mean is it a wise idea to destroy a rumored murderer’s office and hang up pictures of his supposed victims? Victims the town believes I hurt with my bare hands? That I…crushed in their eyes and broke their jaws… their arms and legs…”

As Eddie spoke, Martin’s eyes widened in fear as he realized what situation he may currently find himself in. 

“Stay away from Y/N and STOP with the bullshit.”, Steve threatened with a rough growl. “If you even fucking think of going near her again or tell anyone we were here and we won’t be so fucking nice. Am I being clear?”

“Y-Yes Mr. Harrington. I-I-I understand.”

Eddie punched him again hard, knocking the boy out before quietly exiting the house.

Your mouth hangs open as they tell the story and your eyes blink back tears as you lean against the wall. 

“We understand if you want to leave but we don’t regret it.”

“At least we know you’ll be safe from him.”, your professor follows as they try to gauge your reaction. 

“Why do you think that would make me leave?”, you ask with a slight pant behind every breath. 

“I may not be a murderer, Y/N, but I’m definitely not a ‘good man’.”

At Eddie’s gruff filled words, you take long strides forward till your chest is against his and your hands are cupping his warm cheeks. 

“You are to me.”, you declare as you kiss his lips, his arms remaining at his sides. “Thank you for what you did. Thank you for protecting me, Mr. Munson.”

Your professor’s eyes flutter at your words, thankful for the verbiage you chose. 

“We can keep you safe to, sweetheart.”

Crashing your lips to his, you absorbed the taste of him, desperate for more as your tongue mingled with his. 

After lifting you into his arms, Eddie carried you to their bed and fell with you as he grinded his hips between your legs. Throwing your (his) shirt off your frame, his mouth promptly latched onto your nipple as his long tongue played with the nub. 

“F-Fuck, Mr. Munson, please.”

Flipping over onto his back, your professor manhandled you till your pussy was hovering just above his mouth and your eyes rolled back as his lips sucked a bit aggressively on your clit. 

Feeling him moan, you glanced behind you to see Steve enveloping his boyfriend with his mouth, bobbing his head and taking as much of his cock as he could. A palm abruptly spanked your behind getting your attention before you realized Eddie’s other hand was on your waist trying to guide you to move. Biting your bottom lip you, you kept your weight on your knees as you rolled your hips.

“Y/N!”, your professor growled causing you to look down so your eyes could meet his firey ones. “Sit. FULLY sit.”

“B-But I’m—”

A groan mixed with your slight grunt of pain as he spanked you again. 

“Sit. DOWN.”

You didn’t see it but you heard Steve chuckling sinisterly behind you at his boyfriend’s strong commanding tone.

Doing as you were told, you mewled as his tongue seemed to push farther into your entrance while his mouth unapologetically made out with your pussy. 

“Oh my god.” Your fingers reached down to thread through his hair, seemingly pleasing him as he picked up his pace. “Mr…Mr. Munson…please…”

“Ride his face, honey. Get yourself there.”

As you rolled your hips and threw your head back, neither man could take their eyes off you. To them you were perfect, like a goddess from heaven, and the fact that they were finally able to do something to make you feel safe had them needier than they had ever been. 

They wanted so desperately to please you and they knew all the buttons to push. 

Your entire body shook as you came and Eddie drank you in, his fingers digging bruises into your waist as he held you to him to fully lick you clean. 

Steve backed away as his partner flipped you over onto your back and slapped your clit with his cock eliciting an obscene wet sound before he guided himself inside of your cunt.

“Fuck, baby.”, the metalhead moaned as he did a few cursory pumps to get you accustomed to his size. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling me for weeks. I’ll see you fucking wince as you walk into my class and know it’s because we made you feel good.”

Gripping the back of your knee, he pushed your legs back till you practically bent in half and a devious smirk stretched across his face, his eyes widening in amusement as yours rolled. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Mmph—so deep, Mr. Munson.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Pressing as much of his weight on top of you as he could without hurting you, Eddie began thrusting into you at a relentless rhythm that had you seeing stars. 

“That’s it, Eddie, baby. Fuck, you look so fucking sexy.”, Steve praises as you listen to him spit into his hand and stroke his cock. “Tell me how he feels, Y/N.”

“Good…deep…can’t…”

“Can’t…can’t wait, honey? Talk?” The coach chuckles when you nod and his boyfriend allows one of your legs to fall so he can collapse against your form to snap his hips hard against yours. “Poor, baby. Eddie’s dick making you dumb? Wait until it’s my turn.”

His promise had you clenching around the other man’s length as your fingers tangled his hair and his lips attached to your throat. 

“I…I love you…Mr. Munson. F-Fuck…make me cum. Please… just like that.”

Heavy pants fill your ears as he pounds into you harder. 

“Like that, Y/N? You’re gonna cum for me like a good little slut?”

“Yes, sir, yes.”

“Then fucking cum. Cum on my cock, little girl. That’s it.” As Eddie continues to murmur, you shout as your body trembles and the coil snaps. “That’s my good girl. Fuck, your pussy’s so tight when you cum.”

While the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you, your professor grunts beside you and with a few sloppy thrusts his release coats your insides. 

You’re not allowed one moment to breathe as the other man tugs you onto his lap as soon as his partner rolls out of the way. Clinging to the base of his neck, your tongue dances with Steve’s as his palms softly rub down your back to your waist. 

“Can you feel how hard I am after watching you two? Fuck that was sexy.”

When your hand reaches down to take hold of his shaft, you already feel the sticky precum that had been leaking out of his tip. As your eyes lock with his, you slowly bring yourself down onto his length as you run your tongue along your fingers, tasting him along the pads. 

“D-Do you like how I taste, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Mr. Harrington.”

“Shit, Y/N, I don’t know how long I’m gonna last so you better ride my dick fucking hard.”, he warns as he slaps your ass for good measure. 

While you bounce on top of him, a tussle of hair fills your peripherals and you turn just in time to see Steve passionately kiss Eddie as soon as his back hits the headboard. Your head leans against his shoulder and the man grunts with need as he wraps his arms around you, his palm holding you flat against him as he thrusts up roughly.

“Fuck—that’s it. Take it, dirty girl. You take my fucking cock. K-Keep bouncing…bounce against it…” When you don’t respond, Steve growls as he tugs on your hair and dips your head back. “Wake UP, little girl. Fuck, Ed, l-look at her. She’s fucked out of her mind.”

“Make her cum, baby.”

The coach’s forehead pressed against his partners as he tenderly tilted forward to kiss his lips again. 

“You want me to make her cum, honey? You need to see her cum?” As Steve spoke, his hands clung tighter to your hips as he forced you down against each one of his thrusts, hitting that sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly as your head lulled to the side. “She’s so fucking beautiful when she cums. Even better when I’m filling her up.”

Your nails suddenly dig into his skin as the ball drops and you whimper at the feeling of your sore pussy clamping down over his cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Clinging to your trembling frame, his breath warms your shoulder as you feel his release empty inside you. 

Steve leaned against the headboard as he tried to calm down, slightly grunting in surprise when you collapse limply against his chest. Your hand reaches out to the side and it takes Eddie a moment to realize you’re reaching for him. Taking ahold of his arm, you circle it across you both and he scoots closer to hold the two people he loves most in his embrace. 

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me…” Steve’s shoulder rotates to lift your head so he can cup your face in his hands as you speak. “I’m not mad or afraid of you for what you did but…you two just keep getting closer and closer…to losing everything…you worked so hard for.”

As the tears spill down your cheeks, Eddie catches them with his lips as he tenderly kisses your skin. 

“I feel bad because…I’m so grateful for what you did…but if you get caught or had gotten caught—”

“But we didn’t and we won’t, honey. It’s not like this is a regular occurrence.”

Noticing your eyes glaze a bit, the metalhead crawled out of bed and took you in his arms towards the bathroom, away from the conversation that was too heavy for you to handle right now in your current headspace. 

##################

The next day the university was a buzz with conversations about what could have happened to Martin as they speculated. Everyone had a different theory but both men were preoccupied with you as their eyes followed you through the next couple of days. 

You seemed a bit aloof as you starred out the window during class or running on the field with your music blaring so loud that when Steve called your name you didn’t hear. Theo was by your side as much as possible and while that sprung up some slight jealousy at least they knew you were safe. 

However, on a day you were supposed to be in class…you didn’t show up.

Eddie tried to focus on his lesson but his eyes kept flitting to your empty seat until he gave up and let his class leave early. After powerwalking to Steve, when his wide worried eyes met his he knew he hadn’t seen you either. 

Trying not to seem as alarmed as they were, they went on the hunt to no avail. As they ran to the parking lot to drive around, they noticed you sitting on the trunk of your car with Theo leaning against one of the doors. As soon as he sees them, he glances your way before meeting them halfway. 

“I didn’t want to leave her out here by herself. She was in the theater for a while and actually tried to sneak out without me noticing. I asked her if she was ok and she just said she needed to be alone. I offered to stay somewhere off to the side but she kinda yelled at me because I wouldn’t go. I didn’t know what to do so…”

“No, um, thank you, Theo. We’ll take it from here.”, Steve mumbles as he offers the boy what he hopes seems like a confident smile. 

“Ok. Hopper didn’t come by or anything to ask me where you guys were by the way.”

“Thanks for letting us know, Kid. We appreciate it.”

Giving them on final nod, they watched as he jogged back towards the university before turning to focus on you. 

“You weren’t in my class today, Y/N. I was really worried.”, Eddie conveyed with a slight edge to his tone. “You can’t just disappear without telling us.”

“We’re dating, Eddie. You aren’t my father or the dean. I can skip a class if I want to.”, you replied flatly causing their heads to tilt.

“I’m also your professor—”

The sound of your snort as you laugh sarcastically cuts him off. 

“Is that really the card you want to play, Mr. Munson? Because you’re suddenly the morality in ethics?”

While you had been speaking, Steve’s eyes had continually scanned you as he tried to get a read on what was going on. 

“What’s going on, honey?” At the term and care behind it, you shifted your gaze to the concrete in front of you as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “You know you can tell us anything.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“Yes, it does. Yes it very much does.”, he countered. 

“No, it doesn’t because even if I tell you I already know what your response will be.”

“Try us.”, Eddie growled sternly. “We trusted you with our secret. The least you can do is be open with us.”

“A talent scout came to play on Friday. Before we started out relationship, I had been working on getting into acting programs in California and New York. I never thought I’d hear back. Apparently Lilah knows a guy at NYU and sent him a reel of some of my work. He was interested and flew down to see me live. I thought I had lost it because of what happened but…I guess not.” At your last word, you chuckled as you shrugged your shoulders and shifted your eyes to finally meet theirs more directly. 

“He liked me and accepted me to be a part of their theater program. I’d finish my degree up there and have access to places like studios or stages.” As you continue, you try to control the tears that fall as you wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted…but so are you two.”

As they listened to you speak, both men gradually felt their hearts breaking.

“And what do you feel like our response would be to this?”, Steve asks barely above a whisper. 

“You told me you couldn’t leave Hawkins. That you had to stay to protect the people. People who call you a murderer, Eddie. People who have so little respect for you both that one of them was able break into your offices and trashed the place. Who told you that you were pathetic, Steve. A town where you both can’t love each other openly and have been in hiding for 10…years…” Shaking your head, you fold your arms across your chest. “What would happen with us? Even when I graduate, you’d still hide me right? For how long? We keep acting like you two being faculty and me a student is the only barrier we have at being together but…”

“What are you saying right now, Y/N?”

“Eddie, I want you both to come with me. We can be safe and happy up there.”

“What if we say that we can’t…”

At his words, your eyes squeeze shut as you suffocate the cascade of tears threatening to numb you. 

“I don’t want to leave you.”, you sob as your voice betrays you.

Just like you had with him, Eddie steps forward and pulls you to his chest as you fully begin to let go not caring if anyone saw him trying to comfort you. Noticing his partner struggle to keep it together, Steve pets the back of his head as he wraps you both up in his arms. 

#############

@joannamuns9n @dckweed @corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @myherometalhead  @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @too-efn-old-to-be-here @eddiexmunsonlover

here's hoping the tags work correctly this time!

[eggcompany]

Castiel The Hottest Oddest Duck Part 1

Castiel hated when loud people came into the museum. However when two women come in and give him a card to some club called the Crossroads maybe they're worth it...

Crossroads. A sex club. With an online catalog. And one man covered in silk and lace catches his eyes and he just knows he has to go see him... the princess. AKA Dean Winchester who hadn't taken a date in... YEARS. But maybe it's just the best stroke of luck.

“OMG they should get one of these at Meg’s” 

“Oh totally, wouldn't The Puppy look so cute on that? Ooo or Killa!” 

Castiel Novak hated loud people in the museum. He just wanted to clean and keep an eye on the exhibits. Sure he also loved answering questions from the field trip kids and chatting with artists who liked to sit in the large monument hall and sketch but he absolutely hated loud people walking around nearly yelling at each other and cackling loudly. 

However in the last week it seemed impossible to get away from since they put up their loaner exhibit on sex through history. 

As the two women continued to speak loudly and cackle like upset hens, Cas walked up near them and cleared his throat. They turned around and waved their hands in an ‘ excuse us’ kind of way. 

“Oh sorry we’re just so excited about this exhibit. We're members of the Red Crossroads and this stuff is pretty interesting, totally up our alley!" One of the women said with a large grin. 

"Oh.. okay, It's on loan from another museum. We're pairing this and the pride exhibit. They'll both be open by June first." Castiel informed them. If they were just overly excited he understood. He’d just about talked his brother’s ear off when they had their exhibit on beekeeping. 

"We should come back then! And we can bring Meg or Dean! Dean would love this shit.” Said one of the women to the other who nodded. 

“Ooh, are there going to be more crossdressing exhibits or anything like that? That would be amazing” asked the second woman. Castiel nodded after a moment of thinking. He’d just been looking at the catalog of incoming exhibit pieces. There were many pieces of Transgender History and Drag Culture, which in a crude way could be interpretted as ‘crossdressing’. 

“We're going to have a large section over drag culture across the world later this month where the pottery currently is.” Castiel informed them which incited big smiles. 

“Fantastic! We’re so coming back! Thank you so much, you’re a doll… Castiel! We’ll see you again in a few weeks and ya know if you ever feel like a good time come swing by the Crossroads.” Said the women who handed him a small black card and walked on their way toward another exhibit while texting on their phones. 

Good time? What’s that even mean? Castiel was curious about the card which simply had in plain print

‘Red Crossroads- Bar and lifestyle club- All Welcome’ and a phone number. 

Red Crossroads…. 

Bar and lifestyle club. 

Lifestyle club. 

….

Sex club. 

It was a sex club. 

Cas was taken aback as he stared down at his laptop screen. He didn’t know there were those! He thought there were only street workers and online escorts. Both of which made him nervous as a man seeking another man who wasn’t underaged or had any… afflictions. 

Catalog listings of services came to view first, Cas had never thought to go through and think if he liked something or not. 

Spanking? No he didn’t like hitting even if it was for fun.

Bondage?… Perhaps it would provide compression and comfort. Cas often found certain amounts of restraint like weighted blankets and sleep sacks very comforting so bondage is on the table for that. However it could be scary if he got too overwhelmed and couldn’t get away. 

Pet Play? Cas didn’t like the idea of having to care for something living and he definitely wasn’t very good at “pretending”. 

Sex Toys?... That made Cas glance over at his bedside table. Here his lube and condoms and small bullet vibrator lived. His brother had bought it for him as a joke since it was called an "Angel" and was sparkly gold in color. Cas didn't get the joke until years later, and then still he quite enjoyed the small toy pressed against his skin. He only ever put the very tip inside since it was always sort of… scary. Overwhelming and made him feel very lonely. 

Crossdressing/Gendered Play… That’s what got Cas’s heart tapping against his ribs cage.

Men had always been Cas’s favorite. Even when asked when he was very small in the church, he had always known he loved boys. That was what had been the catalyst of his parents getting him tested for autism in the first place. They knew he was ‘wrong’... Oh well whatever they’re in the nursing home now and Castiel doesn’t need the inheritance. 

Plus Gabriel liked boys too. Somewhat. ‘Pansexual’. At least sort of liked boys. So Cas wasn’t alone. 

Cas liked just men. 

They were simple and understandable during sex. Touch penis, kissing, they cum, snuggles until morning. Easy. 

Easy was usually best and best to understand. Simple and straightforward was best. 

But oh... pretty things in pretty packaging were even better. No one would turn down a nicely wrapped gift. Especially when that gift was a hard cock wrapped in soft lace. 

It had been a rabbit hole on his laptop one night. The road from " I don't really like girl bodies" t o " I really like girl's lingerie" was a short one. Cas didn't quite like all the complexity or the look of a woman, femininity in a femine shape was… yucky in his mind. He didn't like breasts either.

The road from " Boy bodies are pretty " to " Boys in girl's clothes are very pretty " was a long and winding one. 

He'd looked through everything from "petite" to "pegging" to "twink" and finally ended up in "crossdressing". It seemed endless of boys wearing frilly pinks with their cocks barely contained. 

Cas was never good with people and he was even worse with sex. He'd had sex in college, sure. A girl who got him drunk and said he was cute had had sex with him in his shitty dorm room and told him he had a big dick and left before morning. 

He'd had sex with a very handsome man who smelled like chalk and had smooth soft skin and a thing for virgins. He was nice and cuddled until they showered together in the morning. He was nice but Cas wanted more. 

Cas wanted snuggles all the time and hugs and holding hands and dates and all the in the movies kind of stuff. Sex was nice but love was what he wanted. 

Gabriel told him saying “I love you” was a bigger deal than how Cas was used to using it. And that saying it to someone you just met, or while your ankles are to your ears, is not the right time to say it. 

It was easy to click on the crossdressing section on the catalog for the Red Crossroads. Suddenly there were lines of profiles. Mostly very young boys wearing strappy dark attire. 

Not Cas's type. Sure they were cute and hot but he wasn't really into younger guys. When he himself was younger he was into ‘older’ men. Now he just liked men his own age. 

He scrolled, endlessly. Glancing from image to image. From young cute faces caked in makeup to bodies laying ass up exposing their tender places. 

It was a doom scroll of searching for someone. 

It was sort of draining in a way that it made Cas start questioning what was he doing, why was he scrolling around on a catalog of men, why was there a catalog of men, why was he even looking at a sex club when he could never- 

Then there he was. Neck down, sun tanned skin, wide shoulders, bulging biceps, tight abs, rosy pink nipples, fuzzy blonde-brown hair coating his strong thighs and making a soft little treasure trail from his belly down under the candy pink panties he was wearing. He had on a matching lacey ribbon harness on his chest that exposed the wide expanse of it. 

" Princess of the Crossroads, tall, strong, handsome, and loves his lace. Loves getting all dolled up and giving anyone a good ride. Is open to kissing, cuddling, and anything in between! Come show our princess some love, Friday-Sunday, or scheduled appointment"

"Princess... Wow..." Cas whispered and instantly knew he had to go find him. 

He also realized he needed to do A LOT of research. 

-0-0-0-0-

This was stupid. 

Stupid to even walk through the backdoor of the bar. 

Stupid to walk around trying to find the beautiful strong body he'd seen online. Walking around looking at the heads of dark blonde hair, looking at bodies covered in thick muscle and freckles, it was all so… embarrassing . 

It was an hour of him walking around awkwardly trying not to stare at the people who were activly having sex. He'd watched the pole dancers for a while marveling at their strength and grace. He was absolutely taken by one of them who was dressed in a long pink sheer robe lined with fuzzy white stuff that Cas very much wanted to put on his face and had to yank his hands back a few times from where they had absently shifted up to sit on the very edge of the stage. 

He'd made his way to the second bar that was in the back corner of the main room. He'd flumped down on one of the cushiony red bar stools and a blonde woman walked over to him. 

"Sad face for a sex club, what's wrong my man?" She asked and Cas sighed and traced a triangle on the shiny counter. It had been a failed attempt at having sex. It was a failed attempt at getting fucked and snuggled. 

"Couldn't find who I was looking for. Can I have whiskey? I don't drink usually but I need something." Cas explained and the woman glanced over at the other bartender, a dirty blonde headed man with a sparkly smile wearing a black t-shirt and some black jeans. He had on an apron with the crossroads logo on it and was pouring out drinks for two men, laughing and chatting. 

He was a very good looking man, tall, strong, handsome. Masculinity in the purest form. Probably smells like sweat and spilled alcohol. 

"I'll get you the good stuff in a second. Who were you looking for anyway? Most of our best are here." She asked while looking around the room and Cas nodded. 

"Yeah I looked around for a while, the dancers are pretty amazing. I looked on your website but the guy I wanted isn't on the floor and his face wasn't in the profile." Cas said sadly as the woman poured him some whiskey. She hummed and thought for a moment. 

"Any chance it's the princess?" She asked with a smile. Cas choked on his drink nodding. After coughing for a moment he recovered and shook his head yes vigorously. 

"Yes, yes, that's who it is. Do they not work here anymore?" He asked with big wide eyes and she smirked. An almost knowing smile spread across her face, she glanced over at the other bartender. 

"He's here. How about you go wait for him and I'll have him meet you in his room. It's up the stairs and wait for him in the room with the golden crown on it. It'll be to the left. Just sit there, it might be a long wait." She explained kindly and Cas was smiling widely. He was so excited to be able to finally touch and have something he really really wanted. It was like being told there was a gift of a million lives waiting for him just up some stairs. 

"Oh that doesn't matter! I'll wait for however long! I'm so excited." Cas said in a giddy voice and slapped down a large bill and walked quickly to the spiral stairs he'd seen a few people walk up. 

The woman giggled and Cas was off. 

Maybe it wasn’t so stupid. 

-0-0-0-0-

Cas was happy to sit and wait in the lovely carpeted room. The walls were a lovely rich dark color that was just nearly black was tinted with a pink, the floors were low pile and very very soft, new feeling, dark grey heathered with black, there was a sturdy looking black desk that looked more in use than a staged object that had a lamp and a cozy looking arm chair behind it. There was a large dark stained wood four poster bed in the center of the room, king size, thick and plush, having black drawers along the underside of it on the floor, and it was covered in a plush patterned black comforter set with several pillows in matching cases piled neatly at the head.

There were two doors, other than the one that Cas had walked through and one on the wall behind the bed. Both were painted black with golden door knobs. Cas could see the light on underneath one of them and had an itch in the back of his mind to just go and flick the light off but this wasn’t his room and it wasn’t his place to go opening doors. He’d gotten in trouble about things like that before so he just ignored the light and stared at the floor from the cushy pink tub chair that he was sitting in by the door. 

Castiel was giddy . Overly excited about getting to have sex. 

Sex . 

Such a rare yearning in Cas’s life. He had to really concentrate to think of the last time he wanted to have sex with someone… Years ago probably. Beach trip with his family, he was sitting under the umbrella reading a fantasy novel about knights and princesses, a semi dirty novel that he hid with a false dust cover, he glanced up on the look out for his parent’s return, a big burly man was walking up out of the water, huge chest bouncing slightly under the thick cover of dark hair that connected over his belly to widen back on it’s way under his tiny tight shorts. Cas remembered feeling absolutely dizzy before his sister wacked him in the head and called him a slur. 

Just as Cas got a creeping nauseous feeling in his belly he heard some noise behind him. 

"I haven't actually been booked for a while so I don't have everything for the full ‘experience’ but if you still wanna- I’m very willing" Said a rumbling voice and Cas turned to see the source. 

Then he couldn't breathe. 

And he couldn't move. 

And he felt very very warm. 

Cas was standing, panting, clenching his hands at his sides. 

"God..." Cas whispered as he stared unashamed at the man's perfect face. 

He was standing in the middle of the room wearing a pair of thigh high cotton socks in a crisp white color, a flowy green silk slip to cover the rest of him. He had on a light perfume that smelled like vanilla, mascara that only made his long eyelashes look even longer, and some soft pinky nude lipstick. Around the slip’s thin straps Cas could see another set of straps, shiny like ribbon, in a dark nearly black green. 

He smiled and bit his bottom lip, straight teeth a pearly white. 

"Enjoying the view" He said in his practiced sultry voice, deep and rumbling like tires on a gravel road. 

"I've never seen anything more beautiful. Person, object, or otherwise." Cas said from his very soul. He was shocked like he was seeing a true angel a few feet in front of him, his feet were both glued to their spot on the carpet and weighed nothing at all as he took a few steps closer. 

The statement made Dean jump back and look a little shy. The brunette chuckled and looked around the room for a moment, hands fidgeting together. 

"Oh thanks. Haven't heard that one in a while. I'm Dean, but you can call me whatever you'd like." Dean said and moved a stray hair back into where it should be, spike having flopped down to his forehead. 

Cas watched his hand move and then felt as if he had fallen back into his body from floating somewhere far away in space. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe and that he had to rip his hair out. Dean was so perfect, so amazing, so beautiful, and wanted Castiel in such an intimate way and Cas hadn’t been very intimate in so so long and and - words tumbled out of his mouth. 

"I'm Castiel Novak. I've never been here before,I have autism, I'm gonna hyperventilate." Castiel said as he started to take shorter and shorter breaths, head getting light and dizzy. 

"Okay, alright, big one in, big out." Dean coached him through with a hand on his shoulder until Castiel was breathing normally. Cas was bent over a little bit and Dean was rubbing his back, hand warm like a wood fire. 

When Castiel stood back up they were so close, so near. The slightly shorter man looked so dazed Dean feared he might pass out. He’d seen people pass out before, not any autistic people he knew about but then again it wasn’t his business. 

“You smell very good and look very pretty” Castiel breathed out very deadpan and monotone, he was still trying to calm down his racing heart. 

Dean thought his eyes were glittering, it was odd. He’d spotted Castiel wandering around and had listened to him at the bar. He was 1. Hot as fuck, 2. Had a voice that already sounded like he’d been throat fucked, and 3. Had the most gorgeous eyes and honest look Dean had ever seen working at the Crossroads. Castiel Novak was 100% Dean’s type, plus he was a sweet man. 

"You're one odd duck, Cas. 's cute." Dean said and leaned in until there was just an inch between them. He cocked his head and stared down at Cas’s plump pretty pink lips. The dark haired man swallowed and let out a shaky breath. 

"I'd like to kiss you. I'd really like to kiss you." Cas whispered and oh Dean had really soft lips…

It was so easy to let Cas kiss him. 

Terribly. 

Castiel was a terrible kisser. All unpracticed and clumsy and stiff all at the same time. 

Dean hummed and let Cas explore though, his lips trembled a bit but soon he was confident in his tight presses, letting his eyes slide shut. 

Dean let one hand tilt and guide Cas’s head to angle over, he let his own lips part first and coax Cas’s open, and he was patient when Cas pulled away from his tongue the first time with a confused noise. He grinned a bit at the adorable confused look on Cas’s face. No way should a middle aged man be able to look so fuckin’ cute…

“C’mon, you’re doin it right” Dean whispered and Cas leaned back in after a glance at Dean’s perfect green eyes. 

Soon their tongues tangled, Dean’s hands coming to cradle Cas’s jaw and one sitting on his sharp hip bone. Castiel however had his hands down at his sides, clenching and relaxing with the rhythm of their kisses. Dean thought it was cute, something about this scruffy man just radiated something so… cute and fragile. 

Something to be cherished. 

Something that just screamed that he was either going to be utterly terrible in the shack or so, so fucking good. 

"May I touch you?" Cas panted out his eyes filled with a sort of frantic look. Something like a tornado in a jar. His heart felt like it was going to burst from his chest, in a fun way not like when he has anxiety attacks. His cock was throbbing in his slacks and he felt so… on fire with lust . 

"Course you can. Here, there we go." Dean said in a deep rumbling tone and guided Cas's wrists so his hands were on Dean’s silk covered hips. He leaned in to catch the other man’s lips again but Cas was looking away. 

Cas gasped and looked down, astonished as he squeezed the muscle all along Dean’s hips, sides, all the way to his bulging shoulders. Castiel breathed in quickly, finally letting out the breath he had been holding. 

"You're so... solid. Strong. Muscular." Cas said in awe and let his hands wonder and press into different places on Dean’s silk covered body. His muscular biceps, his forearms, his shoulders, and down his back. The fabric of the slip was so smooth and buttery and Dean’s body was so  warm and felt so alive under Cas’s hands. 

"Mhm, you're not too soft yourself." Dean said let his own hands start pushing and feeling up the other man. Cas was fucking hot and it was unfair. Sharp hip bones in his black slacks, solid stomach, strong arms, and a big cock that was bulging in his slacks. Not only that but he had thick, plush looking thighs, his hands were heavy and strong where they grasped and groped and petting at Dean’s back, and when Dean leaned back to steal some more dirty tongue filled kisses and placed his hands on the dark haired man’s chest it was soft yet had a layer of buff muscle underneath. 

A very attractive, awkward man. 

Definitely the most enthusiastic man he’d had if the way he kissed was anything to go by. 

Cas kissed like he’d never get another one, pulling on Dean’s shoulders as if to get even closer, even once their chests were pressed together. 

He let out quiet, needy noises. Dean felt like his heart squeezed each little whimper and tiny hiccupped begging noise. Gorgeous noises, pretty noises. 

“Pretty” Dean whispered as he pulled away and kissed down Cas’s neck, letting his hands slide down from Cas’s waist to slip inside his back pockets. Cas gasped and let his hips buck forward. 

“You th- think ‘m pretty?” Cas asked in an almost drunk way as Dean nibbled and licked down the side of his neck. His mind was fuzzy, like his brain had melted and floated away. Dean was perfect, warm, welcoming, kind, understanding, and so so pretty and nice and god . 

“Real pretty, you think I’m pretty?” Dean assured and asked and started working on unbuttoning the offensive white shirt that hid away the other man’s burning body. 

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty, I wanna be pretty like you.” Cas explained, saying the last part quietly as Dean unbuckled and unzipped his pants. Cas looked like he had already been torn apart. Hair a mess, lips red and smeared with the pale lipstick and swollen a bit, cheeks blushing darkly, eyes brimmed with tears. It was debauched, it was right outta a porno, it made Dean feel like his dick was gonna explode. 

“Yeah? Wanna see more? I wanna see more of you.” Dean pushed the shirt off Castiel’s shoulders and roughly pulled his slacks down to his thighs. 

Cas leaned down and pushed his pants down  and off, kicking his shoes off on the way. 

“Do I need to take my socks off?” Castiel asked as Dean sat back on the bed, letting his legs spread and his slip ride up to pool around his hips, satin panties barely containing his red hot erection, small mark of precum darkening the slick fabric. 

He was staring. Taking in miles of supple pale flesh, bare nearly hairless skin. Thick strong runners thighs, and a perfect cock. God it was big. Thick, swinging, rosy and darker at the tip like it was begging to be sucked. How he was like a living statue. 

“Dean? Is- do I have to be naked for the sex? I rather like my so-“ Cas explained and Dean pulled him down by his shoulders to lay on his back. With a bit of a huff Dean swung himself to straddle the other man. Cas’s cock rubbed against him through his satin panties. 

“Keep the socks on, I don’t care, just lemme-” Dean said as he leaned down to snatch up Cas’s lips again, rolling his hips forward, grinding down. 

“But Dean… I don’t wanna do this. I- I got ready…” Cas said and tears started to flow down his face. He sniffled and put his hands up to push at Dean’s chest. Dean immediately pulled himself off to sit beside the other man, shushing him calmingly. 

“Hey, it’s alright, man. Breathe, Cassy. What ‘cha mean? What ‘cha wanna do?” Dean asked and let his fingers comb through the surprisingly feathery soft hair  around the other man’s ear. 

“I- I- look” Cas stuttered and then gave up trying to explain. He laid back, spread his legs and there it was. A small silver plug covering his hole. He’d went out and bought it while planning. That and an actual dildo so he could practice and make sure he was stretched out enough so they wouldn't have to prep. He was hoping it wasn’t ugly… Dean was so so so pretty and and… Dean was just staring at it. 

Dean couldn’t breathe. He even got to fuck this beautiful, sensitive, amazing man? 

Best. Date. Ever.

-0-0-0-0-

“I wanna be pretty! God, please, Dean, I wanna be so pretty!” Castiel begged as Dean’s lace clad chest rubbed up and down his back with each hard rolling thrust. 

He was gripping the pillow in front of him, his elbows and knees holding him up. He couldn’t even see anymore between the tears flooding from his eyes and the pleasure that was making him feel like he was nothing but a puddle. Each time Dean rolled his hips forward Cas could feel his own cockhead drag along the sheets where it hung between his trembling thighs. 

Dean bent down, one hand holding him up and the other going to hold onto the sharp point of Cas’s hip, to bite at his meaty shoulder. 

“You’re pretty Cassy, real fuckin’ pretty.” Dean growled as he let his hips snap sharpy into the hot tight hold of Cas’s body. Loving the way Cas moaned out like some pornstar, loving the way his hands clenched up and his back arched more and more. 

“No! I wanna be pretty like y-ouh-ou, wanna-ah!- wear pretty things, wanna uh be so pretty” Cas blabbered as Dean kept slowly speeding up, hips starting to slap against the plush pale cushion of Cas’s ass. Cas could feel his collarbones starting to press into the bed and his body curving down. Dean’s hand running along the dip of his waist before pulling him back up into a thrust by his hip. 

“Yeah? Wanna wear a, fuck, a pretty dress?” Dean asked as he reached over and grabbed his slip from where he’d thrown it off after Cas had rolled over and pulled himself apart. Lust had burned him up as he had rushed to pull a condom on. 

“Yes, yes, wanna wear a pretty skirt and and wanna wear makeup and wanna wanna wear heels, wanna be such a pretty whore!” Cas sobbed out as Dean pulled away to kneel up behind him, cock lodged deep inside Cas’s trembling body. He grabbed Cas by the shoulder and pulled him up to kneel too. The black haired man yelled out and curled over himself but Dean kept him up with a hand on his belly. 

“I don’t believe that Cassy. You don’t wanna get dressed up like a whore and be a slut. You wanna be a bride, an angel, you’re just a pretty princess.” Dean whispered harshly into the other’s ear as he dragged the silk slip down over Cas’s arms, down so it grazed the base of his heavy cock. 

“C'mon pretty, arms… god that’s pretty ain't it���” Dean growled into Cas’s ear as he drug his arms through so the dress fit him properly. Cas’s strong back made the silk fall in a beautiful way down him, the lacey hems floated right above were they connected. 

“‘M gunna cum” Cas said in a drunk, dizzy way. His cock twitched which only caused the lace trim to tickle him more which only caused him to twitch again. His body felt light, warm, perfect. He let his head loll back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. His breaths came out in short huffs, grazing Dean’s jaw. 

Dean smiled to himself and let his hands hold onto the other man as his hips snapped back into action, slamming into Cas’s welcoming body. Cas let out long wanton moans, hand barely gripping himself, too lost in the pleasure Dean was supplying. 

-0-0-0-0-

“Can you- Can I- Do we have to move? Do I have to leave now?” Cas asked as he caught his breath and his brain became unscrambled. Dean was tying off the condom and dropping it into the trash. 

“Well I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ve got keys to the back door if we stay past closing. I could sleep.” Dean replied as he pulled the bralette off and dropped it onto the desk on his way to the door he’d walked out of. 

He opened the door and turned on a light, from where Cas could peek in; it looked like a bathroom. There was a sink and tile. Cas just laid on the bed, his bum was a bit sticky which he hated but the slippery silk fabric of the slip felt so… amazing. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Can I stay here? Like this?” Cas asked a bit loudly, not even daring to move an inch. Dean popped back out, now wearing a pair of boxer briefs and a tight black shirt. 

“Yeah Baby, you can stay like that.” He said with a grin and knelt on the bed beside Cas who hummed but then frown as a drip of lube slid between his buttcheeks. 

“Can I have a tissue or something? I do not enjoy the feeling of lubricant against my taint or between my buttocks.” Cas stated and Dean looked at him for a moment before cracking up with loud boisterous laughter. 

“You really are an odd man, Castiel.” Dean said as he reached back to the side table and pulled a few tissues from the drawer. As he handed them to a blushing Castiel he spoke again. 

“I think I like it.” Dean whispered and sealed their lips together again. This time it was a slow, pull and push, warm kiss. Something that was just shared and not escalated. When he pulled back he felt his heart pull tight in his chest. 

A smile was gracing the edges of Cas’s pink lips, his eyes were closed, and, christ, he looked angelic . 

“I like you, Dean.” Cas said, wishing he could say he loved Dean but that would be inappropriate he reminded himself. 

Dean smiled and leaned back in for another kiss, one of many many more to be shared before Cas announced he was tired and wiggled under the blankets once he’d wiped himself clean of lubricant. 

-0-0-0-0-

“You stayed… all night.” Castiel whispered in awe, in a gravellier growling voice as he picked his head up from Dean’s arm. 

“Well yeah you’re like a starfish.” Dean laughed out as he set his phone, which he’d been playing on, onto the bedside. Cas had been stuck to him all night. Legs thrown over him, hands grabbing and holding on, until he’d finally gotten comfortable with one arm smushed down straight between them, one thrown across Dean’s chest with one of Dean’s legs trapped between Cas’s own, which only cause Dean to think how much a monster of a dick could seem so… cute and cuddly like a stuffed animal but it was very late when he’d thought that. 

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Cas said as he started to scootch and get away but he was stopped by Dean’s hand coming behind his neck and pulling him back down. 

“No, no, Cas. baby it was good. You’re a cuddle bug, I liked it.” Dean said with a smile and nuzzled into Cas’s disastrous looking hair. He was really hoping he wasn’t over stepping. Some guys didn’t like the… loving part. They wanted kinky sex with someone who was close enough to a girl to stave off their gay needs and then they wanted to leave. But Cas seemed… different. True and honest and and god Dean didn’t wanna feel so attached already. 

Cas looked up at him with a serious look, blue eyes sharper than cut diamond. 

“Can I come back? Can I come back and we can cuddle more?” He asked, voice heartbreakingly begging, rolling like thunder through Dean. 

“Ya know what we’re not really supposed to do this but I stopped being an official model years ago. You should have my number. Meet me for lunch sometime and we can cuddle at your place. Be more comfortable.” Dean explained as he stood up and dug through the desk for paper and a pen. It was dangerous to give Cas such a hold on himself but.. Dean couldn’t resist. He wanted Castiel. 

Castiel. 

Cas. 

God Dean was too old for crushes like this. 

“Can I make you food? Can I bake you something? I make good cookies and pies and-” Castiel started as he knelt on the edge of the bed, holding the piece of paper like it was treasure. Dean cut him off though. 

“Make me a pie and you won’t be able to get rid of me. Pies are a dangerous thing, Castiel.” Dean said and Castiel stood up and smiled, completely unbashful of how exposed he was in Dean’s wrinkled and stained slip. He stepped close to Dean and kissed him lightly. 

“I’ll make you hundreds.”

Next Chapter ->

[heyitsme1040]

The Road Ahead [d.w]

summary : Getting ready to go on the road with Dean, the only unusual thing is that it isn’t for a hunt. Your excitement is hard to contain, having no idea where the road will take the two of you. These moments are unforgettable, so different from anything you’ve experienced with him before.   

pairings : Dean Winchester x Reader

warnings : None, (If I missed anything please let me know!)

word count : 530

AO3 (x)

a/n : The third bonus Comfortember post is here! This one is based on the alternate prompt of ‘travel’. These are just glimpses of what I imagine a road trip with Dean would be like if there wasn’t the pressure of a hunt weighing on the two of you. 

“Are we forgetting anything?” You look across the hood of Baby to Dean.

“We’ve got our bags, your camera and film, a small bag of weapons just in case, and a cooler filled with snacks and water,” Dean lists off. “What else could we need?”

“I just feel like we’re forgetting something. Did you charge your phone?”

“Sweetheart, relax. Yes, I charged my phone. I also have a battery pack just in case either of us need to recharge our phone. Anything we could have possibly forgotten can be bought.”

“You’re right,” you shake your hands out. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. And excited. They’re conflicting emotions.”

Dean walked around the hood of Baby, grabbing your hands. “Take a deep breath, you’re fine. You don’t need to worry about a thing. Everything is alright.”

You take a deep breath, nodding. You knew Dean was right. There was no reason to be worried. Everything was fine, you and Dean weren’t going on a hunt. You didn’t need to make sure you had everything. Blowing the breath out, you smile up at Dean. 

“Thank you,” you swing your linked hands. 

Dean smiles back, leaning down he opens your door. Gently guiding you in, he kisses your forehead briefly before closing your door. You watch as he strides to the driver’s side, gets in, and starts the car. 

You weren’t sure what was more enjoyable on your travels. The long stretches of open road, or seeing what the towns and cities had to offer. 

On the stretches where there was nothing, the windows were rolled down and the music turned all the way up. Dean’s music was the kind you couldn’t help but sing along with. Sometimes the singing devolved into yelling the lyrics at each other between fits of giggles. You rarely got to see Dean in this relaxed state, and you couldn’t get enough of it. He resembled the Dean you’d always heard about in fond memories the boys would retell. 

The small towns you came across were either run down or quaint. The occasional motel was where a room would be rented. There was never much to do in these towns but pass through. You’d stop for the night and get dinner at the local diner to bring to the room. On the way out of town you’d fill Baby at the only gas station while Dean quickly went inside to buy some drinks and snacks. 

The times you found yourself in a bigger city, Dean always made a point to stop for a day or two. Getting to play tourist was fun. You’d grab your instant camera and roam the streets with Dean holding your hand the whole way. There were unique stores, aquariums, hotels, and tourist attractions all documented by you. Every picture either you or Dean dated and wrote where it was taken before putting it in the box you had under your seat. 

The two weeks you were gone seemed both too long and yet far too fast an experience. Getting back to the bunker, you were glad to return to your own bed yet missed the idea of waking up to a new adventure every day. 

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[themusingsofafanficwriter]

The True Meaning of Family - Chapter 8

Summary: A found family Supernatural AU. Ophelia Humphries is an English 19-year-old who is just trying to finish her online history degree when she receives a letter from two brothers she never knew she had.

A/N: Chapter 8 is here! Hope you enjoy it. If you want to keep more up-to-date, I'd suggest heading over to AO3. If you didn't see the previous chapters, you can find the master list here. Let me know what you guys think!

Weeks came and went.

Cases came and went.

Research and essays came and went.

In all those weeks, Ophelia had not left the bunker except for food shops and library visits. She was beginning to go insane, and the training that Dean had said Ophelia had needed to go with them on hunts, had not started.

“Sam, are you around?” Ophelia yelled from a comfy chair in the bunker’s small library that she had claimed as hers.

“In the kitchen!” Was her brother’s reply.

Rolling her eyes, Ophelia left the nest of blankets she had created in the chair and found her brother making a sandwich.

“Hey! Do you want one? Sorry, I should have asked.” He said with a look of realisation on his face. “I’m not used to anyone else being here when Dean and Cas are out.”

“It’s fine, as an only child I got used to fending for myself.” She replied offhandedly. “But yeah, I’d love one.” She quickly added.

A silence fell between the siblings as Sam added cheese and ham to white bread.

“This is weird.” Ophelia said softly after some time. Sam placed the sandwiches on a plate and sighed. “Yeah, it is.”

“What was it like growing up, like, having siblings?” Sam was quiet for a little while, before handing a plate over to Ophelia.

“My childhood was far from normal, Ophelia. That is the first thing you must understand.” A seriousness fell over Sam that Ophelia hadn’t seen before in the months that she had known him. “My mom died when I was a baby and her death sent dad down this life.” He moved around the kitchen island and sat next to Ophelia on a stool.

“I was raised to hunt, and all the normal stuff people did growing up just didn’t really happen. It wasn’t a happy childhood but I guess it had its moments.” He paused. “Dean basically raised me.”

Sadness grew within Ophelia. All she wanted was to have siblings, and the siblings that she did have were… were suffering.

“That’s why he is the way he is. This is all I’ve known but for Dean, he kind of remembered mom and I guess.” Ophelia could see Sam trying to think of how best to phrase what he was about to say. “I guess he wants you to hold on to what you’ve had and not take a dive into this life. There will be no going back to normal after this.”

She nodded, understanding that the future that she was asking for was not going to be easy.

“I’m going to struggle with this whole big brother thing, especially as you’re an adult and have been alone for so long. You don’t really need me.” Sam said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Of course I need you, Sam.” A wide-eyed Ophelia said softly.

Sam studied his sister’s face, trying to understand why she sounded so hurt by his statement.

“You and Dean are the only connection I have to our dad. He may not have been a good dad or even particularly dad-like by the sounds of it but you two are everything to me.” Ophelia reached out and squeezed Sam’s hand. “I’ll push Dean to start training you. I know you’re going a little stir-crazy.”

“Thanks Sam.”

They finished their sandwiches and Ophelia told Sam all about her unextraordinary childhood with her mum. Sam tried not to let his smile fade from his face as his little sister told him tales of school dances, award shows and plays, and all the simplicities that growing up in a small English village had. Oh how he wanted that and how he wanted Ophelia to only know that.

As she went back towards her cocoon of blanked and soft furnishings, Sam called after Ophelia. “It might be useful to brainstorm some ideas for alias’, the quicker I can get those names over to our guy who makes our fake IDs and such, the better. You know, just in case Dean does ever let you come with us to… investigate I guess is the best way to describe it.”

“Sure thing, Sam. I’ll get that figured out once he starts to train me.” She said with a soft smile. Her head was cocked slightly and while her face was even, her tone was sceptical.

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

It was late when Dean got home to the bunker. Sam was at one of the desks, surrounded by books and other notes.

“Hey, man! What you got there?” Dean asked casually.

“Uhh nothing, just putting together some things that I think Ophelia should know. Some about what we could be up against and some things about our history.”

“Yeah, good idea. Maybe this will scare her off a little bit.” Dean’s nonchalant reply annoyed Sam.

“Why would you want to scare her off, Dean? She’s our sister and all she is trying to do is spend more time with us and all you keep doing is pushing her further away.” His pointed tone and disapproving look startled Dean enough that the oldest Winchester took a step back and threw his hands up in defence.

Sam’s attack continued, “I understand that you don’t want her to get hurt but the whole reason for bringing her here is so we could be a family. You know, it wouldn’t surprise me that in a month or two she decides to move back in with her mom. She has been here almost four months and we have probably spent a handful of days actually being siblings to each other.”

“Well, it’s not like we have lots of time, this job makes sure of that, Sammy, this is just how it is.” Dean said in his defence. “It’s not like this job is conducive to a family life.”

“Exactly! And all she is trying to do is be our sister and spend time with the only connection she has to our dad. So will you stop being such a hardass and start training her? I don’t want to lose her from our life.” Softness entered Sam’s voice.

“That’s why I don’t want her coming, because I don’t want to lose her either. Sammy, how many bad things have happened to us? Or the people we love? I don’t want them to happen to her.” Dean’s voice also softened.

“Things are going to happen, Dean. Don’t you remember the demon that was at her hotel the very day we met her? If it hadn't been for Cas, something really bad could have happened. And she has no way of knowing how to deal with that.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” Dean finally relented.

Sam gave him a knowing look. A look Dean had come to know as a you need to talk about how you feel look.

Dean sat next to his brother, moving some of the papers as he rested his elbows on the table, placing his head in his hands.

“God, she's so young.” He finally said. “At her age, you were at Stanford. Trying to get away from this life and I was so angry at you.”

Sam hummed an acknowledgement.

“Now here we are, letting our little sister into this life when she should just run as far away from it as possible. She should be getting drunk at parties, falling in and out of love at the drop of a hat and getting an education and a normal job.” Dean glanced at Sam. “Why are you pushing for her to train Sammy, I thought you'd want all this for her too? You two are so alike and at her age you wanted nothing to do with this.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, I wanted nothing to do with dad's treatment of me. We were soldiers in his war. This is different. She's going to be in danger every time she leaves this bunker because, well, Cas said the angels had always kept an eye on her so God knows who or what else has been watching her.”

Dean lifted his head to fully take in his brother's expression. Sam's mind was clearly lost in thought, Dean guessed that it was of his time away from their dad.

“Basic training and defence.” The words left his mouth before Dean could fully realise what he was saying.

“Basic training and defence.” Sam replied with a nod.

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

Sam had shot Ophelia a text saying that he had spoken with Dean and he had agreed to basic training and defensive skills.

Ophelia liked the message and went back to her work, an essay on the English Civil War. It was difficult to twist all assignments into being about the occult or supernatural. Sometimes they had to be just about the time period. It was times like this where she missed the library and Mr. Harrington.

She was almost finished with her references when Dean knocked at her door.

“Ophelia?”

“You can come in, Dean, you don't have to hover.”

“Well, I know what I was up to at your age so, I just like to be… cautious is probably the best way I can put that.”

“Okay well that is way more information than I ever needed about you at my age Dean. Also, what would I be doing, it's not like I've met anyone… do you know what, don't answer that!” She quickly added as Dean gave her a smirk that was too telling.

“You should put some gym gear on before I change my mind about this. Meet me in the kitchen in 15 minutes.” With that, Ophelia was left in her room alone.

Quickly changing into some flared hot pink yoga pants, a white top and white trainer she ran down stairs to meet Dean in the kitchen.

“Okay, I’m ready.” She said catching her breath.

“Alright, follow me.” Dean beckoned, leading her out of the kitchen and down a hallway that Ophelia hadn’t been down before.

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“We have a small gym and a bigger armoury and shooting range down here. Oh also the room with the demon’s trap is down here on the right.” Dean said casually as he pointed down another hallway.

The gym was a standard gym. A punching bag, a few weights and a treadmil lined the outer edges. There was a huge mat that sat in the middle of the floor that looked similar to the ones she remembers from school.

“Okay so what’s your hand to hand fighting like?” Dean asked.

“Well, I’ve only ever been in one fight before.” Ophelia hesitiated but Dean prompted her to go on with a wave of his hand. “It was in secondary school, I was 16 and this girl was bullying a girl in one of the lower years. I don’t know where I got the confidence to do anything but I pushed her and told her to back off. She slapped me, I punched her. Twice… I might have also kicked her when she was down but I can’t say for sure as I kind of went into an adrenaline high and I don’t remember what happened after. I was suspended for two weeks and I had to attend a meeting with my head of year every week for the rest of the year to see how my ‘behavour was improving’.”

“All that for defending another kid?” Dean cocked his head in confusion.

“I’m lucky I wasn’t expelled, her dad was on the board of governors and was pushing for it apparently. I think because I hadn’t acted out before and the school had had other problems with his daughter’s bullying of other kids, they went easy on me.”

“Right well, at least you’ve thrown a punch before, but go ahead, make a fist anyway to show me.”

Ophelia made a fist, remembering the proper form, and presented it awkwardly to Dean. He nodded in reply.

“Okay, so.” He started. “Most of the fighting Sam and I do is either with our hands, knives, or guns. We’re going to get your strength up so that you can protect yourself,” Dean stressed those last two words to make a point, “until Sam, Cas or I can get to you.”

Ophelia didn’t say anything, she just nodded as the realisation that she could ever be in danger was starting to set in.

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

For her first training session, Dean felt that Ophelia did well. Her overall fitness level was fine. She could run a 7 minute mile, give or take, for a few miles without collapsing, and her strength was stronger than Dean had expected. A good starting point, but she had far to go before he would consider her ready to go with them.

Ophelia seemed to have thought diffenerntly though. Every morning from then on she was in the gym. She managed to shave almost a minute off of her mile run time within a month of starting to train. She struggled a little with the weight training to begin with but when Cas told her that many supernatural beings had strength that could throw someone Sam’s size across a room, it motivated her to keep going.

It was at this point, Dean felt that she had improved her stamina enough to try and spar with her.

“I’m not going to hit you Ophelia, so don’t worry about that. Just try and not end up on your ass.” Dean said as he got into a stance. Ophelia mirrored her brother and nodded.

She managed to stay up for, at most, 5 seconds before Dean managed to hook his leg behind hers and push her to the ground. She landed with a thud, having had the wind knocked out of her.

A slow clap came from the door. Ophelia crained her neck to ssee Sam stood in the doorway.

“Well done Dean, You’ve managed to knock over a teen girl!” Sam said in defence of Ophelia’s efforts.

“Yeah, this is on me. I’m not strong enough yet.” Ophelia said from the mat.

“No, you just don’t know what to do. Kiddo, don’t hold back. You’re unlikely to actually hurt me.” Dean said, helping her up.

Sam perchd on the edge of the weights rack and gave an encouraging nod to Ophelia.

‘Don’t hold back. You’re not going to hurt him.’ She said to herself.

Dean came at her again but this time, as he lunged at Ophelia to grab her by the shoulders, she dropped to the floor and rolled out of the way, allowing her to get back to her feet behind Dean. Before he could turn, Ophelia kicked Dean in the back of his knees.

He almost crumpled to the floor, saving himself at the last moment. He rounded on her, changing his attack to match Ophelia’s more defensive style.

“Good work! You almost had me.” Dean said with a smirk.

Dean launched at Ophelia again, this time managing to grab her arm pulling her towards him, and twisting it behind her back. “How are you going to get out of this one? Really think about it.” Dean said in a tutoring tone.

They stood there for a moment until Ophelia stomped on Dean’s foot. As he folded in half, reflexively she elbowed him in the nose which sent his head flying backwards. Dean swore under his breath as he let go of his sister to cup his face. At this point, as he was already stumbling, Ophelia hooked her leg around Dean’s and pushed him to the floor.

Dabbing blood from his nose, Dean sat up from the mat and looked at the Winchester girl with wide, impressed eyes.

Having watched what happened, Sam walked over and patted Ophelia on the back. “I think you’ll be fine.” He said.

“Yeah, I think she’ll be okay. Next time we add knives to the mix.” Dean added slowly as he tended to his nose which may be broken.

[deancodedinthewater]

Dead in the Water part 3

Sheriff Devins ushered them into his office a couple hours after Bill’s ‘accident’ and as he shut the door Andrea spoke. 

“Sam, Dean,” she said, standing up from where she had been huddled over Lucas. Dean’s brow furrowed as he watched the boy rocking in his seat. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“So now you’re on a first name basis,” Devins said and he sounded disappointed, almost angry. A familiar reaction Dean has had from parents. Though usually he got it from men’s parents. Or if they found out he was trans. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you dinner,” Andrea said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a plastic container. Devins softened for a moment but his professional mask came back up in an instant.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, sounding genuinely upset about having to turn her away. “I don’t really have the time.”

“I heard about Bill Carlton,” Andrea said and her father sighed. Dean rolled his eyes, small town gossip again. “Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

Devins put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Right now we don’t know what the truth is,” he told her. “But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.”

Lucas looked up. He whined as he stood up and threw himself at Dean, grabbing tight to his arm.

“Lucas, hey, what is it?” Dean asked, bending to the boy and lifting his free hand to his shoulder. The kid continued to whine and whimper. “Lucas?”

“Lucas,” Andrea said, her brows knit in confusion. Dean glanced up at her and then back down to Lucas.

“Lucas, it’s okay,” he said, squeezing his shoulder. “Hey, Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Andrea grabbed her son and pulled him away, gently prying his arms from where they had wrapped around Dean’s hand. As she led him out of the room his eyes didn’t leave Dean. A shiver went down Dean’s spine.

Devins threw off his jacket as Andrea shut the door behind her. “Okay,” he said. “Just so I’m clear, you see... something attacks Bill’s boat, sending Bill - who is a very good swimmer, by the way - into the drink, and you never see him again?” The Sheriff looked between them both with an eyebrow raised.

Dean made eye contact with his brother before answering. “Yeah,” he said. “That about sums it up.”

“And I’m supposed to believe this, even though I’ve already sonar-swept that entire lake?” He all but yelled, slamming his hands down on his desk and glaring at the pair of them. “And what you’re describing is impossible. And you’re not really Wildlife Service.” Dean startled, eyes widening as he looked up a Devins properly. “That’s right, I checked. Department’s never heard of you two.”

“See, now, we can explain that,” Dean started, waving a hand between him and Sam.

“Enough. Please,” Devins said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The only reason you’re breathing free air is one of Bill’s neighbours saw him steering out that boat just before you did.” He dropped his hand, the other one resting on his hip, and turned his eyes back to them. “So, we have a couple options here.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other but remained quiet.

“I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton’s disappearance,” Devins continued, eyes flicking between them as he spoke. “Or we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get back into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don’t darken my doorstep again.”

“Door number two sounds good,” Sam said.

“That’s the one I’d pick,” Devins agreed.

Dean nodded. Devins waved a hand at the door. Sam opened it and they left. Each quiet as they walked to the car. Dean could still feel the ghost of Lucas’s grip on his hand. When Dean started the car he left the played out tape in the player, not changing it for a different one or flipping it over. They drove in silence. The headlights illuminated the I-43 North sign across the junction and Dean stared at it.

“Green,” Sam said, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Light’s green,” Sam repeated. Dean pulled off, turning right. “Uh, the interstate’s the other way.” Dean nodded. “Dean this job, it’s over.” Dean shook his head. Sam scoffed. “Bill Carlton murdered Peter Sweeney, Peter got his revenge. Case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

“No,” Dean said, firmly. Both of his hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Lucas was scared.”

-

Andrea stuck her head in Lucas’s bedroom as she walked past to go to the bathroom. He was sitting in the middle with his crayons and soldiers. “Baby, what are you doing up?” She asked, tightening the knot on her bathrobe. Lucas kept scribbling his black spiral. His movements were almost frantic. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” She scooped him up and carried him over to his bed.

Lucas whined and reached for his crayons. Andrea shushed him and tucked him into his bed. “You can continue drawing in the morning,” she said. “It’s time for bed.”

Once she was sure he was going to stay in bed, Andrea left his room and continued on to the bathroom. With the door shut, she plugged the drain and turned on the water. Both taps turned to just her liking. With the bath filling, she turned around and gathered all the things she would need. Shampoo, soap and conditioner set out on the side, Andrea sat on the edge of the tub and tested the water. It was good, perfect temperature. She dropped her robe and stepped in.

Andrea grabbed a washcloth and started to clean herself. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations. As she ran the cloth down her body she opened her eyes. The bath water had changed colour. No longer clear but a murky, muddy brown. She screamed and scrambled to get out of the bath. Something started banging on the bathroom door. Arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her down. “Come play with me.”

-

“Are you sure about this?” Sam asked, as they came up to Andrea’s house. “It’s pretty late, man.” Dean ignored him and rang the doorbell. The door was flung open almost immediately and Lucas stood there. He was breathing heavily.

“Lucas?” Sam asked.

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away, pushing him towards Sam. Without thinking about it, Dean kicked the door in. He started to make his way over to the bathtub but Lucas broke free of Sam and latched onto him.

Lucas grabbed Dean and dragged him inside. Sam behind them. He started to drag Dean up the stairs and Dean saw what was wrong. Water was pouring out from under the bathroom door and down the stairs. As soon as they were at the door, Lucas started banging on it.

Sam ran past. “Andrea?” He called into the water before plunging his arms in. Dean held Lucas in the doorway and they watched as Sam pulled Andrea out. She gasped for air. Whatever had a hold of her, Peter, pulled her back under. Sam pulled harder. He kept pulling until Andrea was all the way out of the bathtub and coughing up water.

Masterpost

[huggybearsunshine]

The Fewer Things chapter 4 is up on AO3

Fewer Things 4

[part 4] Dean is not okay.

Sam found him there with the box in his lap.

Dean wasn’t sure how long it had been but a greasy take-out bag was dropped next to him as Sam sunk to the floor too. So at least long enough for a food run.

“The others are gone for a bit,” the younger brother informed him.

“Didn’t want to deal with the moping, huh?” Dean replied, voice stripped raw.

“No, Garth called… Needed some help,” Sam shrugged, “They can handle it.”

A beat passed where he waited for Dean to throw himself into hunter mode, but when he didn’t, Sam’s gaze dropped to the items in the box below.

“What’s this?” the taller man asked.

“Cas’,” is all Dean can force out as he closed the box protectively, “I think I’m gonna bury it.”

“Okay,” Sam didn’t question it, “Do you want me to go with you-“

“No,” Dean cleared his throat, running a hand down his face, “No, I got it.”

“You sure?” Sam tried again.

“Yeah,” Dean sniffed, rising to his feet and shuffling uncomfortably for a moment, “I won’t be gone for long, just… something I need to do.”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll- uh, put this in the fridge,” Sam also seemed to choose his words with care as he lifted the take-out bag, “Case you’re hungry when you get back.”

“Thanks,” Dean glanced at him but couldn’t meet his eye before he was stalking out of the room.

Once he felt himself fall into the leather of the Impala’s front seat, he let himself go.

Punching his fist into the steering wheel until it hurt and the guilt overtook him for taking it out on his baby.

“Okay,” he spoke aloud to himself, “It’s done. It’s… gotta be done.”

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

“Because it is,” he spoke softly to himself.

He must have been on autopilot after that because he was at the mill before he knew it.

Looking over toward the box he had placed in the passenger seat. A gentle hand reached out, hesitating for just a moment before touching.

His eyes misted as he felt it beneath his fingers, “Goodbye… Cas… I’m so sorry I failed you.”

He sniffed before taking hold of it and slipping from the safety of the impala’s embrace.

He could barely make his surroundings out as he neared the spot, but a sweep of the back of his hand cleared his vision enough to see.

Enough to see…

“Cas?” the strangled sound of his voice didn’t even register as he ran toward him, sliding to the ground next to him and pulling him up into his arms, “Cas!”

“Dean?” a groggy growl pushed from the limp form and eyes struggled to open, “Why are you yelling?”

Laughter that sounded half crazed was Dean’s only response as he buried his face into Cas’ neck.

“You’re real,” the hunter half sobbed, “You’re really here.”

Clarity seemed to sink in and Cas’ body moved in his arms until he loosened his grip.

“What’s happened?” Cas looked around, “Why am I here?”

He sat up, fear playing out on his face.

“I got you back,” Dean looked as though his own words were just hitting him, “I got you back.”

“No, Dean! Jack-“ Cas exhaled in a desperate sob, “The shadow will take Jack!”

“Jack’s good,” Dean hurried to assure him, “Everyone’s good. You’re… you’re good…”

“How?” he looked at him with a confused squint that made Dean’s heart jump.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean wiped his hand down his face to hide his shaking lip, still wide-eyed in shock, “I’ll explain later- I just… I just want to get you home.”

He stood up and helped Cas to his feet before starting for the car.

“Dean…” Cas’ uncertainty pulled Dean’s attention back to him without hesitation, “Am I..?”

He looked over himself as if searching for something.

“Human?” he settled on, “I’m human…”

“You’re…” Dean’s eyes sunk, “Oh shit, Cas…”

The hunter crossed in large strides, looking him over for injuries or signs of his missing grace before the former Angel’s hand stopped his, holding it to his chest where it had frozen in its search.

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas ensured him softly as their eyes met.

“Right, yeah,” he pulled away, still unable to break eye contact.

“Is that…” he noticed the box on the ground.

“Yours? Yeah,” the hunter rubbed the back of his neck and finally looked away, “It’s a long story… another time…”

Cas took in his thin and sallow appearance and decided not to push him, choosing to follow agreeably.

He bent down to scoop up the contents of the box as they neared and his clothes swished when he moved.

“You’re soaked,” Dean noticed before realizing it was black goo that drenched his clothes.

His hand shook at his side as images of him being swallowed up flooded his mind.

“I think I got some on you too,” Cas reached out and wiped something from Dean’s cheek that he hadn’t even noticed himself.

“Yeah…” he felt his brain freeze up at the contact, “I need to get out of these clothes…” he stiffened and he practically stumbled over his feet as he began to walk once more toward the safety of the impala, “Into dryer clothes, I mean.”

“Yes, I could use some as well,” Cas admitted, allowing Dean his distance as a shiver shook his newly mortal body.

Dean sat in the driver’s seat but noticed Cas didn’t follow.

“What’s wrong?” he leaned until he could see him through the opened passenger side door.

“I’ll get the seat dirty,” the former Angel remarked and Dean practically had to force down the smile threatening his face.

“I’ve been covered in worse, I promise,” he compromised with a smirk that brought a dimple to his cheek, “Get in. She’ll be fine.”

The first half hour of the drive passed in awkward silence as Cas’ fingers played across the edges of the box.

“You okay?” Dean found his voice asking after a while, unable to stop himself.

“Yes, Dean,” a small smile tugged at Cas’ cheeks before turning in sadness as his eyes trailed over the other man, “Are you..?”

“Better now,” Dean’s eyes stayed trained on the street ahead of him.

Cas caught his head nodding absentmindedly, hands continuing to move around the edges of the box in his lap.

Dean found it suddenly as hard to speak as it had been after losing him, and Cas seemed to allow the hunter this silence.

However, another half an hour of that seemed to wear the hunter thin as well, and he needed to fill the quiet. A sentiment, he suspected the two shared as, when he glanced over, he found Cas’ eyes on him.

“What?” he asked simply with a hint of a smirk.

“It’s good to see you,” Cas admitted, and Dean let out a noise that he would convince himself was a hum but that sounded humiliatingly closer to a whimper.

The former Angel’s hand touched his shoulder, “Dean, you missed the turn.”

“What?” he struggled to keep up.

“Home…” Cas added, “It’s that way.”

“Shit, right,” he shook his thoughts aside and pulled the car around to head back, “Sorry.”

“It’s late,” Cas offered, “I’m tired too.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “Tired.”

The silence returned until they reached the garage, and Dean seemed hesitant to leave the comfort of it.

“I should tell Sam,” he practically whispered before his eyes found him, “Give me a minute?”

“Of course,” Cas nodded.

Then Dean was gone, Cas rising slowly behind his retreating form from the other side of the car. He’d wait patiently for his return. He’d wait forever for Dean.

—————————

@destiel-wings @destieliscanon5nov

[julesclues]

May I please request a Dean x winchester reader where he finds out she’s extremely ticklish and they get into a cute tickle fight 🥰🥰

Tickle Fight

Warnings: none

Word count: 708 words

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x f!reader

You had met the Winchester boys through Bobby and it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to you. Those boys were your life line. They would come running to protect you in a second, and would never put you in harms away, nor would they cause you any.

Especially Dean.

You had that boy down bad. The hardcore man who always put others before himself, never feared jumping into danger, always took down the world’s evilest monsters, was in love with you. He would go mush every time you stepped into a room. Every time you looked at him, hugged him, kissed him. It was you. It was always you. And everyone knew it too. He made sure the world knew you were his, and he was yours. Dean had never felt this lucky before. With all the pain and heartbreak he had in his life, he never thought for a second that someone could swoop in and repair the broken pieces.

You and Dean were sitting on his bed, watching some boring movie that had no interesting plot. You were sitting in between his legs while he played with your hair. It was a quiet evening, and you wished it was always like this. Having that domestic lifestyle with Dean was a dream for you. And him, too. But, it would have to wait. If it ever happened anyways. So, you never failed to forget these small moments. You loved them too much.

As Dean was playing with your hair, his thumb accidentally touched your neck, making you flinch a bit. Dean looked down at you with confusion. “You okay?” He asked, but you just smiled. “Yeah,” you chuckled. “That’s one of my tickle spots,” you said, looking up at him. His eyes lit up with a smirk on his face. “You’re ticklish?” He asks, and your eyes go wide. “Dean, no,” you say sternly, already making an attempt to flee from his grasp. But he was too fast, already grabbing your waist and holding you down. “Dean!” you yell, already laughing as he pins your hands above your head with only one of his hands. He ignored your pleas and begs, using his free hand to attack your neck with his finger tips. You broke into a laughing fit, squirming and kicking under him. 

“I’m g-gonna ki-kill you!” You yell while stuttering, trying anything and everything to get away from him. You knew you were going to get your revenge once you escaped. Though you were laughing, the pain in your stomach made you want to kill Dean in any way possible. So, you decide to trick him. 

“Dean!” you sob, looking up at him. “Please stop, it hurts.” You give him the best puppy dog eyes you could, even successfully obtaining tears in your eyes. He instantly stops attacking your neck and lets go of you. “Sweetheart I’m so sorry” He’s quick to apologize and get off of you. You were always his weakness. 

Using this to your advantage, you smirk and quickly jump on top of him. He instantly understands you were messing with him and laughs. “You’re evil!” he jokes, making you smile as you look down at him. “I know,” you admit and gently touch his side, making him squirm. “Y/n, no--” 

“Why shouldn’t I, huh? You didn’t stop when I said no,” you chuckle with some amusement to your voice. His eyes go a bit wide as he realizes that now you’re about to tickle him. The brave, almighty Dean was, of course, ticklish as well. “Y/n I will murder you.” 

“Say that again and I won’t stop tickling you until Sam gets home. And we both know he’s four hours away.” Not even waiting to hear his response, you start to attack the sides of him, knowing that that’s his weak spot. “Y/n!” he yells, but you don’t listen. It was kind of hysterical how this six foot buff man couldn’t escape your grasp. You knew he was going to get you back later, whether it be tickling you once more, putting salt in your coffee instead of sugar, or just making you trip and fall of your face. 

And you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

[georgiapeach30513]

Just Like the Caged Bird, Part 4

Summary:  finally you meet the roommate

Pairings:  Andy Barber X Winchester!Reader

Rating:  mildly explicit

Warnings:  language, mentions of Jensen’s death, grief, implied fingering, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  6K  

Previous

Series Masterlist

You bury your face deeper into Andy's chest.  His arm wraps around you, while his hand cups the bottom of your breast.  One leg out from underneath the thin gray blanket and over Andy's waist, shirt riding up and exposing your bare thigh.  Andy breathes deeply pulling you closer to him, nuzzling his head onto the top of yours.

Sam walks into the room, going to wake you up after he received the message that Dean was on his way.  Seeing the two like this is bittersweet.  He could almost imagine that Andy is your late husband.  You was so in love with Jensen, and he knows Andy is using his similar looks to his advantage.  Even Steve is concerned about the pair.  

He clears his throat, but neither stir.  Clearing his throat, a bit louder causes Andy to look over to him.  Sam's face is hard as Andy looks at him, seeing how close he is to his sister.  He's not as angry as Dean, but he's not happy.  "Dean will be here in ten minutes.  You should probably go."

"She's sleeping so good though," Andy turns to look at you and even now you don't stir.  Unbeknownst to the men in the room you’re having a dream of feeling your sunshine boy again.  Happy at feeling him back in your life.

"The arguing stresses her out.  You don't want that.  I'll give you a minute," Sam closes the door behind him.  Giving him just a moment to dress.  

Andy can't just leave you while you’re still sleeping.  He shifts his body over yours, caging you in between his legs and arms.  He peppers kisses along your jawline and down your neck, and loves the soft moans echoing off your lips.  You wake up from your dream almost confused, feeling you dreamed him back to life, and then you remember it's Andy's arms that you’re in.  Not wanting to disappoint him you smile back up at him, returning his kisses.

"Your brother is on his way here.  Sorry I've got to leave, but the bar is closed and I'm off.  Would you want to come over to watch a movie later?  I could pick you up?" his hands smoothly trace along your skin.  Feeling so soft and like silk underneath his fingers.

"I should probably spend time with my brothers," Andy actually pouts down at you.  "I haven't spent much time with them in eight years.  They'll meet Bucky and be on their way.  And then we can watch a movie, promise," with a quick smile he nods his head.  He didn't think it would be that easy to tear you away from them.  He almost wants to get caught; another argument would push you more into his arms.

"Andy.  Five minutes," Sam yells sitting on the couch.  

"I should go Songbird.  If I text or call, will you actually return it?" Andy remembers the long eight years where you were too wrapped up in Jensen to remember to text him back, at least that is what he told himself. Every message or call was short and quick, or through Jensen.  You nod your head.  You know you just committed to continue to get in deeper with Andy.  Knowing that now would be the perfect time to quit.  And you still can't.

With another final kiss Andy pulls himself off of you and dresses, turning to look at you one more time before leaving.  As soon as the door to the apartment closes, you hear Sam's deep voice.  "Dove, get dressed." 

You aren’t used to hearing him sound so angry.  You dress in your usual cutoff jeans and a band tee.  This time Nirvana.  Once you open the door you see Sam on the couch, elbows on his thighs leaning forward.

"You're playing with fire, you know?" he says never changing his stance.  "Even you have to know that nothing good can come of this."

"It's not that serious, Sammy," you walk to the kitchen to start making coffee.  The bitter brew already waking up your senses, and realizing that Sam is more right than you care to admit.

"Looks serious.  Does he know it's not that serious?" your movements become short and sharp.  Slamming things down.  "You know I don't get involved in your decisions.  But why don't you take things slow with him?  And please tell me you two didn't..."

"We didn't," you don't want him to finish the sentence.  He gives you a nod.  "It's just nice."  

Sam finally looks up at you.  "I miss JJ.  He's close to him," Sam starts to add his anger towards this admission.  "I know what you're going to say.  He is familiar, but he also intimidates me."

Sam stands abruptly, his long legs carrying him over to you quickly, but his hands are so soft as he holds your shoulders, "Is he making you do something you don't want to?"

"No," you furrow your brows and think.  Do you not want to do this?  Or are you addicted to the similarities between Andy and Jensen?

"You can tell me if he has," you shake your head no.  "Just take things slow.  You're not the most experienced.  Yeah, I know you were married.  But Jensen wasn't exactly experienced either."

You forgot how calming Sam could be.  It's refreshing how he can tell you he doesn't like this situation without yelling at you.  Of course, the calmness can't last because Dean comes stomping through the door.  "Funny, on my drive back here, I see Andy driving away from this location.  Coincidence?" his eyes bore holes into his little siblings.  "Dovey?  Sammy?"

"Drop it," you answer with a short voice.  "You may think you have a say in my life, but at the end of the day you don't get to order me around, okay?  And you want to make a comment about Andy when you went home with Nat?" you try to remain calm.  You would like the visit with her brothers to be pleasant.

"I just want to protect you.  You deserve the world."

"I could do a lot worse than Andy.  He's got a good job, a nice house in a nice neighborhood, a nice car.  And you need to take it easy on him."

"You're also his sister-in-law," the two stubborn siblings stare at one another.  Both of you eyeing the other with your twin eyes. Between the three of you; Dean and you have the most similarities, and definitely act the most alike.  Both of you waiting to see which will crack.  "Enough of this, let's go get breakfast.  You're paying for making us drive out of our way here," you roll your eyes.  You didn't ask Dean to drive out this way, but in a way you’re glad that he's surrendering for now.

Steve heads to his usual Sunday lunch with Andy.  He's not sure what exactly is going on between him and you, but he wants to get to the bottom of it.  It doesn't feel right, or at the very least it's going too fast.  You had only been here two days.  And he's been in bed with you twice.  Seeing his car on the camera this morning irritated him.

Without knocking he walks right into Andy's house, grabbing a beer he sits down on the couch with his brother.  After a quick drink of the bottle, he looks over at him, "Figured Dove would be here.  You can't seem to stay away from her."

Andy never turns his attention to Steve, just continues working on his laptop.  "She's spending time with the asshats."

Steve turns his body to face him, "So what exactly is going on?"

With a quick laugh Andy closes his computer, "Are you trying to give me a talk here, Stevie?  I'm the older brother," Steve stares at his brother not wanting to add more because he wants him to answer.  "Nothing exactly is going on.  We're spending time together.  She's had a hard year."

"Yeah, because her husband died.  Your little brother."  

Andy stands walking into the kitchen and grabbing his own beer, "You're worse than her brothers.  She's twenty-six.  I think she's old enough to know what she wants."

"She wants Jensen back.  She wears her rings from their marriage and his dog tags," Andy returns back to the couch.  "You're pushing her too far and too fast.  You remind her of Jensen.  It's comforting to her.  Don't manipulate her.  If you're coming from a good place and things happen, that's one thing, but she's easily overwhelmed and she caves under peer pressure."

"I have no intentions of hurting her.  I'm also offended that you would insinuate that."

"After she had more drinks than she said she was going to, you left the bar with her.  I saw your car on the surveillance video.  You were at the apartment with her, and Sam.  You don't think it's too fast?" Steve doesn't know his brother's intentions with you.  Just knows that he has always wanted to be with you once you were legal.  That quickie wedding didn't allow that moment with you.

"I've known her for ten years.  This is ten years in the making.  If it makes you feel better, I have a big case that I have to deal with for the next few weeks.  So, won't have a lot time for her.  Most of my days and evenings will be prepping."

"Good, you two need a break.  Not to mention Dean was fucking pissed when I told him that she left with you.  How did that go?" Steve laughs looking at his brother.  Andy isn't a fighter.

"She knows how to handle them.  He's mostly just talk anyways."

"Just promise me this isn't a conquest for you.  This isn't about what you said all those years ago is it?  This isn’t a repeat?" Steve hopes that his older brother isn't looking at his time with you as an eight-year-old promise.

"I was an idiot then.  I said and did stupid things.  I would hope you think I've grown since then.  If all I wanted was sex, I could have had that the first night.  I was the one that stopped her," he doesn't smile at his brother; he needs him to understand that it isn't just about sex.

"Okay.  I just don’t want a repeat..."

“He’s dead and gone.  She’s no longer married, okay?  It’s not a fucking repeat, so drop it.  I don’t want to talk about what’s going on between me and Dove, because it’s not that big of deal.  Nothing...well, not much happened.”

“Fine.  We’re dropping it,” Steve says.  Flipping on the TV quickly to try and ignore his brother a moment.

You’re panicking waiting on your brothers to return so you can get a ride for your shift at Hawkeyes.  They went to get lunch and haven't returned, and now you’re paranoid that only your second day of work you’re going to be late because of them. You pace around the apartment living room, biting the side of your mouth and fiddling with the the dog tags that lay on your chest; remembering that Steve said you could borrow his old Volkswagen Beetle.

You run down the stairs and to the garage, spotting the blue car.  It's way too small for Steve anyways, he's such a tall man.  You look into the car noticing there isn't any keys and you go to actually ask if it's okay.  You spot the man underneath a car on the scooter board.  "Steve, I need to take the Bug to work.  My brothers haven't made it back yet, and I'm afraid that they won't be back in time.  The key in the office?"

The scooter board slides out from under the car, and it's not Steve.  A tall and beefy man stands up looking at you.  Your gaze looks his thick body up and down, his coveralls are off his torso, while the sleeves are tied around his waist.  Left arm metal while his right arm is covered in tattoos.  Intricate designs curl around his sculpted arm, giving it a near metal look as well.  Deep brunette locks are pulled back in a bun while pieces stick to the sweat surrounding his face.  When your eyes meet his bright cerulean ones, you look down at the ground.

"S-s-sorry I, um, I thought you were Steve," your hand goes to play with the rings that you left laying on her bedside table, and you almost sigh in discomfort at them being gone.

"I'm not."

"I can see that," the two of you awkwardly stare at one another.  "So, about the Bug.  I need to get to work."

The towering man chuckles, "Sorry, hun.  I'm not Steve.  I don't know who you are, so can't really give you the key to his Bug.  A key I don't even know where it is."

You huff, pulling out your phone to check the time, again.  Angrily you call Sam's phone, "You guys said you would be back to get me.  Still not here," voicemail again.  And you’re even more annoyed that the man is still blankly staring at you.  

"Why would Steve give you permission to drive his old car?  You, his girlfriend?"

"No," you answer almost too quickly.  "Ugh, Andy can't leave.  He said he's got a new case," you begin thinking out loud, trying to figure out what you’re going to do.

"You're Andy's girlfriend."

"No!  I'm uh, um..."

"What's your name?" he grabs a rag and wipes off the oil looking too intensely at you, and you shuffle around uncomfortably.

"Uh Steve calls me, Dove...Dove Rogers."

"They got a sister?  I never met you," he extends a hand out to you; you grab it shaking.

"No, I am... was married to JJ, uh, Jensen," you bite at your lip.  You hate meeting new people.  Especially ones that are so tall and intimidating.  There's a rugged handsome charm about him.  You pull out your phone.  Hating being on time, almost as much as being late.  You would much rather prefer to be early, and right now, you’re pushing it.

"No shit?  Peach?" he should have guessed with your sweet southern drawl.  As soon as you said Rogers, with that accent, he should have known exactly who you were.

You’re eyes go wide as you look at him, "What did you say?"

"Georgia Peach.  You don't remember me?" for the first time you see him actually smile.  His teeth are beautiful and white, a stark contrast to the dirt and grime surrounding his face.

You shake your head no at him, and then it hits you, "James?"

"Yeah, everyone calls me Bucky," he undoes the jumpsuit putting it back on.  "You were always too wrapped up in Jensen.  And shy, wouldn't give me the time of day.  You don't have a car?"

"I do, it's over there.  Steve isn't in too big of a hurry to fix it.  He's got too many in front of the clunker."

"Well, let me give you a ride.  We're roommates after all.  Where am I taking you?" he walks outside to his truck and you follow him still looking around, hoping that Sam and Dean are just around the corner.  Almost ready to beg Andy if he could help you.

"Hawkeyes.  Thanks for the ride."

"No problem.  Steve wouldn't forgive me if I let you be late for work."  

You ride in silence, but hearing the low rumble of the Impala and you slink down in your seat.  Before you fully readjust yourself, you see your oldest brother's eyes narrow as he sees his baby sister in a truck with another man.  Bucky looks over at you confused.  In his rearview mirror he notices the Impala turn around, following them.  "Whatever he does don't stop."

"Crazy ex-boyfriend?" he asks, anger printing on his face thinking that someone could be harassing a woman.

"No, crazy big brother.  He acts like I'm sixteen," Bucky pulls into the bar and before you can open the door to the old pickup, Dean pulls in too close.  

"What're you doing, Dove?" he growls out.

"Getting a ride to work, no thanks to you jerks.  I called like twenty times," Dean's face softens.  He's realizing that he's been too harsh on his sister.  He just wants to protect you.

He looks at his watch, "Still would have got you here on time."

"You weren't answering your damn phones.  How was I supposed to know that you were coming to get me?  You could have already left town and I wouldn't have known," Dean rolls his eyes with a smile looking over to the man driving the truck.  "This is Bucky by the way."

"The roommate," his rough growling voice is back, already asserting his dominance towards the man.

"Winchester," Bucky smiles waving a hand, "Just bringing your sister to work.  No problems, honest.  I've got to get back to the garage.  I've got a lot of stuff to do, and then we can get to her truck," Bucky's voice is almost too sweet as he looks at Dean.  He grits his teeth looking at Bucky.

"Okay, can you move so I'm not late?  I'll see you two later.  Stay out of trouble, please," whispering over to Dean, "Don't cause a scene."

He moves the Impala a bit, turning to look at his sister, "I figured you would spend the evening with Barber."

"He's got a new case; he's going to busy for a couple of weeks.  I guess I'll only see him on the weekends."  

"Not your boyfriend, huh?" you look back at Bucky glaring at him.

"He's not.  Thanks for the ride, James."  

"No problem Peach."

You sit outside of Hawkeyes, resting your tired feet and waiting on one or both brothers.  Fiddling around with Jensen's dog tags that normally are hidden under your shirt.  You’re both tired and bored.  You check your texts to make sure you had sent the right time of when they were supposed to pick you up.  You did.  With a sigh you stretch yourself out on the outdoor table, listening to the calmer weekday patrons at the bar.  This wasn't as overwhelming as the weekend.  

Andy closes his laptop.  His eyes are dry and this is the first moment he's taken to unwind.  He pulls out his phone, smiling at the ‘How was your day?’ message he received from you.  He wasn't the first to text.  It came through a bit ago, but he also knows you were working tonight and will still be awake.

It was good.  Long day, but got a lot accomplished.  You made it home yet?

No, waiting on Sam and Dean to pick me up. Just sitting outside the bar.

Without hesitation Andy stands grabbing his keys.  He's not leaving you stranded, and he's finished up work.

Be there in a few.

Don't do that, I'm sure they'll be here in a minute.

They're already 30 minutes late.  Give me 10.

Andy drives as quickly as he can.  Knowing that him being reliable will allow you to trust him more.  Bringing you even closer to him.  When you spot the shiny black Audi, you authentically smile at the site of Andy Barber.  When you stand to walk over to him, he gets out of the car, even in jeans and t-shirt the man is handsome.  His strong arms wrap around you while his mouth gives you a quick kiss beside your lips.  He runs his hands down your Fleetwood Mac tee, resting them on your hips.  

"Sorry you had to wait, Songbird.  Maybe I should just start picking you up, since your brothers aren't very reliable.  They're leaving soon too, right?" Andy's strong hands pull your hips into his.  "You could always go back to my house with me.  That apartment is getting quite full."

You really do consider this option.  Really thinking going to his house would be the best option.  Sunday found you a bit more restless without Andy to curl up to.  You had forgot how nice it was to wake up next to someone.  "Or we could wait until they leave?" Andy assumes your hesitation is because you don't want to.  He's struggling to find a balance between wanting to spend every night with you and going slower to make sure this is what you want.  

"It's not that I don't want to.  It's nice waking up next to you," you know you shouldn't have said that, but it wasn't a lie.  His warmth and strength next to you gave you the best sleep you had in over a year.

"We'll have to do it more often then.  I know I've been busy, it'll just get busier, but I can make time to spend with you.  Come on, let's get you home little Songbird," he opens the door for you, closing it behind you, and jogs over to his side.  You can’t help but to smile.  You like how gentlemanly Andy can be.  You’ve always been around her brothers, who didn't care about putting you first, or Jensen who was a big kid.  He loved you, but his actions weren't always to put you on a pedestal, but to make sure you had a life full of laughter.

Once Andy parks the car at the apartment you know you aren’t ready to go upstairs.  You want this moment to last a bit longer, and Andy knows this.  He watched you look at him a bit too long, felt your hand resting on his thigh and would randomly rub along his toned leg.  

Turning his head to look at you, he watches your eyes look down in embarrassment.  You think you were caught staring, but he wants to be the one to look at you.  His right-hand cups your cheek, while his thumb tickles along your lips.  "You don't have to run off just yet, Songbird."  

With a touch of his left hand to yours, you feel the soft petting on top of your hand.  In that moment you become his.  You look up at him through your long dark lashes.  

"Get in the back," he whispers.  You don’t hesitate, your short body crawls to the back, and Andy let's out a mischievous chuckle before he opens the door to join you.

Taking Andy by surprise, your hands pull him onto you as soon as he gets in the back.  Awkwardly his long legs cram into the small space, he wants nothing more than to be all over you, wishing you were in a more private area.  Your breath already becomes shallow as his lips explore your body.  Kissing whatever he can get his mouth on.  

Your fingers perfectly weave into his hair, pulling his mouth closer to you.  Your hips thrust into him.  He's not sure what has turned you on so much, but he wants to find out.  It's feverish like your first night together.  You’re needy for him.  

His hands go under your tee whispering along your skin.  You lean up and bring yourself closer to him, enough for him to unclasp your bra, pulling the black lace off your body so his hands can knead your tits.  Giving your nipples a little pinch, and even lifting your shirt up to suckle along the pebbled skin.  Chuckling every time that you chirp at his movements.  Your core rubbing along his thigh that’s pressed against you, searching for any friction you can find.

Upstairs Bucky looks at the clock, knowing that Hawkeyes would be closed this time of night.  He walks out into the living room seeing the two brothers in a deep conversation talking nonsense.  Sam on his computer and Dean reads in a diary.  "Weren't you supposed to pick up your sister?" he asks looking between the two.

Dean looks at his watch, "Shit.  I'll go get her."

"You two look busy.  I can get her," Dean and Sam look between each other, Dean's brows furrow.

"If you try anything or hurt her, you're dead," he tells him.

"Wouldn't think of it," Bucky grabs his keys and walks down the stairs.  Only to pause looking at a black Audi.  The windows are steamed up, and he lets out a chuckle thinking some married couple is out on a date night.  Choosing the back of the garage as their hiding place.  He thinks about letting them stay, but if he doesn't say something Steve will have his head.  

He walks over giving the back window a little tap with his knuckles.  He hears a muffled, "Dammit," from the man and a drawn out, "Shit.  Shit."

Your fingers search blindly for your bra as Andy pulls his hands out of your shorts, buttoning them back up, and giving you a kiss on your covered core.  Andy laughs because he knows exactly where your bra is at.  Spotting it immediately, but he’s not saying anything.  He wants to keep it, giving her an excuse to see him again.  “Songbird, it’s fine.  I’ll find it later.”

You give him a quick pout, but nod your head.  He rolls his pelvis into your one more time, and you let out a delicate little whimper, not sure how you should be feeling at this point.

"Listen, don't want to ruin your date night, but I've got to go pick someone up and I can't leave you here," Bucky says turning his head to the car, and then turning back around giving the couple some privacy.

"Bucky?" Andy asks almost with a sigh.  He looks at you, and you groan.  It is in fact Bucky that’s out there.

"Who is in there?" Bucky asks.  You ready yourself the best you can, wanting to cross your arms over your chest, nodding to Andy.  You both crawl out of the car on the same side, and Bucky let's out a belly laugh seeing the two.  "I thought you were a married couple.  Why are you out here hiding?"

"We're not hiding.  Andy came and picked me up," you start to mess with the dog tags that hang under your shirt, but Andy pulls your hand down to stop the movement.

Bucky just nods his head, biting along his lips, "Sam and Dean kinda forgot you, so I was coming to pick you up.  Looks like my job is done.  How've you been Andy?" he gives him a big smile, noticing the light hickeys on both of your necks.  The disheveled hair between the two of you, and how you never uncross your arms.  "Looks like you've been pretty good.  Nice to see you get back out there."

"I've got to go.  I'll talk to you tomorrow...Songbird," he whispers JJ’s nickname  for you in your ear when he leans in for a kiss.

"Goodnight," you respond, returning the gentle peck.

"Night."

Andy quickly backs up and leaves the two roommates outside.  You look at the outside of the building.  Now that Andy is out of sight, you go to diddling with the dog tags, "Not your boyfriend, huh?"

"He's not,"  your arms go to cross over your chest again, nearly pouting up at the large man.

He just smiles nodding his head before he laughs, "Well, let's tell your brothers your ‘not boyfriend’ brought you home."

"No!" you shout at him.  His blue eyes look you over, wanting you to explain a bit more.  "They hate him, well any man that...uh..."

"Shoves their tongue down your throat?  Keeps your bra?  Makes you all hot and bothered?"

With a bite to your lip, you nod, "Yeah, something like that.  How about you tell them that you found me on the side of the road because I was walking?"

"How old are you?"

"Please?  I really don't want to have another fight with them about Andy.  You don't know them," he looks into your candy apple green eyes and sees you actually look worried about them knowing.

"Another?  Is this a common occurrence for you guys?" you give him a nod, "Fine.  Does Steve at least know?  That's kind of...do you have a thing for the Rogers boys?" the question causes you to feel for Jensen's tags.  Your fingers tracing over the embossing.

"Steve knows.  It's not serious between me and Andy," with that Bucky turns holding the door open for you.  You walk up the stairs, using your fingers to try and brush back your hair a bit.

Upon entering the apartment, you see why they forgot about you.  Why they always forget about you.  Working, researching their next case.  "Makes sense now," you walk to the fridge pulling out the water pitcher and pour yourself a drink.  Like usual the brothers ignore you.  Talking quickly between the two of them.  Bucky sits on the sofa watching them brothers not even realizing either one of you or him are there.

"I was kidnapped," you call out to both of them.  They still never acknowledge you.  "Work was great thanks for asking," you take a sip of your water.  "Andy and I had sex," Dean finally looks over to his sister.

"Oh hey, that was quick," he says with a smile, leaving you beyond frustrated.  They want to act like they care, but when it comes to a case, they forget everything.

"Yeah, Andy brought me home," your answer is so nonchalant it makes Dean grit his teeth.  Bucky looks over to you confused.  You had agreed on a lie and now you’re telling the truth.  "Neither one of you two came to pick me up.  Lucky for me, Andy was willing to help me out."

"I'm sure Andy was willing," without another word you finish your water, placing the glass in the dishwasher, and slamming it closed marching to your bedroom, only to storm out and into the bathroom.  The three men look between one another.  "She's too sensitive."

"You did go kind of far Dean.  We forgot her.  We should thank Andy and apologize for being such jerks," even Sam is ashamed that they forgot their own sister.  They were both so hellbent on you not being here and going with them, and only for them to forget you.

"He just wants to fuck her and move on.  You know how he was.  Making bets that he would...no, we're not talking about this with her here.  It's fucking weird that she..." Dean shudders thinking about his sister with a man.  He still views you as a child, forgetting you’re twenty-six.  "Let him touch her."  

"I'm going to bed.  Too much drama," Bucky stands and walks to his room.  He sighs looking at the bed.  Grabbing the pillows and blanket he throws them on the floor, settling down for a long restless night.

"You really think we're being too hard on her?" Dean asks, now unable to focus on the case.  He forgot his baby sister.  The sister he's forgot more than once in the past three days, and he thinks you’re better off with them.

"Concerning Andy or just in general?" Sam asks, closing the laptop.

"Both."

"I think she's in way over her head with Andy, but I also don't think he wants to hurt her.  I think he wants to mold her into his perfect wife," Dean growls looking at his brother.  "She said she wants a family.  She could do a lot worse than Andy Barber.  But what we're doing...did you enjoy not having a relationship with her?"  

Dean shakes his head looking at the bathroom door, hearing your soft voice singing as you showers.  He screwed up.  He missed so much of your life, and even more when you moved away and wouldn't talk to him because he was always fussing about the idiot you married, and he knew that Jensen was actually a good husband to you.

"I need to trust her.  I don't want to lose her.  She's just so backwards, and he's taking advantage of that.  He looks enough like Jensen.  Even if he doesn't hurt her, she's going to be hurt because that's not her husband," Sam's thought this, too.  But you made it perfectly clear that you’re not staying away from the man.

Both men turn and look at the bathroom as you walk out in a shirt and sleeper shorts.  You never look at them, you just walk towards your room, "Dove,"  Dean calls to you.  

His voice is softened, but you still never look at him.  You want him to be ignored in the way they made you feel.  You close the door, pulling down the gray blanket and get in the bed, turning your body away from the door.  You know eventually one of them will come in here to share the king size bed with you, but for the time being you want to ignore them.  

Laying down on the pillow you claimed as your own, because it smells Andy.  Your brothers aren't entirely wrong.  You don't know what you’re doing with Andy.  You fear him and like him.  He pays attention to you.  Gives you all his attention.  You hadn't had that in so long.  You definitely didn't get it from your family.  After your mom died, you never saw your dad much.  Dean did his best to be a father, but he was a kid too.

You pull out Jensen's dog tags from under your shirt.  Tracing his name with your fingers you ask yourself what you’re doing.  Being with Andy feels so right, but also so wrong.  Would it be different if he wasn't Jensen's brother?  Or do you just feel you’re betraying his memory in general.  

You have denied yourself tears for too long.  With one breath you sob thinking about your late husband, tears for the relationship you no longer have with your brothers, tears for being alone for so long, tears for the lack of attention you receive from your family, and tears because you don't know how to feel about Andy.

You cry so much you don't hear the door handle turn down.  Barely opening the door Dean hears his baby sister crying.  He walks to the side of the bed you’re on.  Kneeling down he just looks at his sister.  You’d been through so much and he was never there for you.  Feeling guilty for every negative thing he ever said about Jensen.  You loved him, really loved him.  Your marriage didn't end because you were having problems.  It ended because he lost his life.

His hand comes up to your face, wiping away the tears even though it's pointless, there's always more tears.  "I'm sorry Dovey."

"I miss him.  I miss you and Sam.  And I don't know what I'm doing with Andy, and I'm so confused because I like whatever it is we're doing," you release everything you’ve been feeling.  Pouring your heart out to your brother.  You confess so much your words turn into gibberish.  You sniffle and cough.  Crying so much the tears nearly drown you.

You sit up on the bed, using your hands to wipe your tears away in vain.  Dean moves his body beside yours.  Wrapping his arms around you and rocking you like he did when you were younger.  Wishing that you had little girl problems that he could make up some lie and everything would be better.  You’re not.  You have real problems.  You have a deeply broken heart and some of that is his own doing.

He rocks you until your tears turn into sleep, exhausting yourself.  You never should have denied yourself tears for so long.  But without this moment you and Dean would not have been able to begin the healing of your relationship.  He vows that regardless of what you decide to do he wants to be supportive like Sam.  He wants to be able to talk to you how Sam does.  The past eight years he didn't really converse with you.  The information he learned about his sister was from Sam.

He lays you down gently.  Walking out of the bedroom he sees his little brother already asleep on the couch.  Sleeping as peacefully as he can on the small couch.  Dean grabs a washcloth from the bathroom, dampening it he washes your face.  Ridding you of the briny stickiness from your tears.  

You’re so exhausted you never move.  With a sigh he lays on the bed.  Falling asleep to your deep breathing.  "I'm going to let you make your own mistakes, Dovey," he whispers to you.  You never heard it out loud, but you knew it in your heart that he was going to change.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist:   @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​

[huntingforsatisfaction]

Pink Promise

Pairing: Dean Winchester X younger sibling reader(not in an incest way)

Summary: Dean is there to help his younger sibling after they have a nightmare 

Words: 2211

Warnings: fairly angsty, but still very very fluffy, a detailed nightmare, mentions of John Winchester’s parenting style, bad writing?, like one cuss word, a tiny tiny bit of gore

Note about characters: in the present scenes the reader is 16 and in the flashbacks they’re 6 and the reader and Dean have like a 13/14 year age gap so he’s like 19/20 in the flashbacks, there isn’t any gendered terms for the reader so it’s neutral(unless you count hair being braided as a gendered term, but boys can have braided hair cause gender isn’t real), and finally this takes place in season 5

Dean woke up, not for any purpose, just one of those weird moments where you randomly wake up in the middle of the night. He shook his head and began fluffing his pillow, stopping when he heard soft crying.

“(Y/N)?” He softly called out.

You were laying with your back facing out and your face squished into the musty cushions of the small motel room couch, a failed attempt at muffling your cries.

“Y-Yeah Dean? Something wrong?” You tried to play it off.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing. Were you crying?”

When you guys first got your room Dean cursed the streetlight right outside the window, but now he watched how it illuminated you as you dropped your head down.

“Nightmare?”

You looked up and made eye contact before slowly nodding a yes.

“Think you’re gonna be able to go back to sleep?”

You dropped your gaze again as your face screwed up and you could feel new tears form on your lash line.

“No.” You softly croaked out, barely audible over Sam’s snores.

                                                   ~Flashback~

You couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying quiet to risk opening your mouth. Once the sting in your eyes and the back of your throat calmed down you went back to sleep.

“Sammy?”

You screamed out running through an old grey house.

“No no no please no!” You heard him scream somewhere you couldn’t find.

“Sammy!” You huffed before taking off running down the hall you came from.

As you ran around the house you felt small and helpless, like when you got separated from your brothers in the corn maze at the pumpkin patch in Iowa, the one Dean took you to without your dad knowing.

“Dean?” You desperately called for your brother as your feet pounded against the floor. 

Completely unaware of your surroundings you ran, the only thing on your mind was finding your brother. Not paying attention to your surroundings you tripped, your heart raced knowing how your dad always got on you for that. You got up and looked down to see what sent you flying to the cracked floorboards.

“Dean!” You screamed

You woke up again, heart pounding in your head and toes. You stopped gasping for air when you felt your dad roll over next to you, holding it in again to stay quiet. Collecting your moose and your blanket, the one you got in Oregon when you were 3 and have refused to sleep without ever since, you slipped off of the bed as silently as possible. Your dad and Dean were fumigating a house in a fancy neighborhood so the only hotel available was a little nicer than your usual moldy motels. The vinyl floorboards stayed quiet as you snuck over to the door that joined your brothers’ room to you and your dad’s. You glanced at your brothers sleeping in their beds before moving their jackets off of the chair that sat in the corner. Dropping your blanket on the floor you traded it for the two flannels that were under their jackets and curled up into the chair. Once you were comfortable you finally let the tears flow, crying softly at first and burying your face into Mort the moose as your chest heaved more and more with the weight of your cries. 

 “(Y/N)?” You heard Dean call out in confusion as he shut the drawer of his nightstand. 

 “S-sorry for waking you up.” You tossed off the flannels and picked up your blanket, heading back to your proper room.

 “No, no, hey, hey, come here.” Dean moved over in his bed and opened his arms, lightly flicking his wrist to call you over to him. 

You gingerly padded over to his bed and with a little effort jumped up.

 “I’m gonna guess it wasn’t growing pains that woke you up.” Dean chuckled. 

 “Ok, I’m sorry, bad timing. Now come on peanut, stop giving me that face and come in closer.” He said shifting so he could comfortably open up his arms for you. 

You still continued to pout, but scooted into his embrace until your body felt lighter. 

“Sorry.” You quietly mumbled, it came out kind of funny because of how your cheek was squished against your brother’s chest. 

Dean pulled back and nudged your chin up, signaling you to make eye contact  with him before resting his hand on your shoulder. His comforting softness melted away as he turned dead serious. 

“Listen to me, do not ever and I mean ever apologize to someone because you’re upset. Ok?” He searched your eyes waiting for an answer, which you gave him with a nod. 

“Now tell me why someone broke into my room and stole my favorite flannel.” And just like that Dean pulled you back into him and your softy of a brother was back.

“Dad yells at me when I don’t sleep and when I cry and when I ask him questions, so I came in here to cry” Even your big brother’s arms couldn’t shield you from the sadness that entered your body.

“Well I’m not dad, neither is Mort the moose, and neither is Sammy.” Dean started.

“Sammy snores now, he’s old.” You shot Sam a dirty look even though he was dead asleep.

“Yeah Sammy is old now, he drools too.” Dean joined you in giving his younger brother the stink eye. “Now tell me, what has my peanut so upset?”

“Nightmare.” 

“Nightmare? Do you wanna talk about it?” Dean began playing with your hair as he awaited your response.

Staring up at your older brother’s face you thought about it. 

“No.” You wanted to say what happened, to get it out of your mind, but you didn’t want to tell him about how you saw his still body covered in blood with his stomach in shreds. 

“No? That’s okay.” 

You guys sat quietly listening to the traffic outside and Sam’s snores. After a while Dean assumed you had fallen asleep, but just as he shut his own eyes your little voice stirred him.

“D?”

“Mm, yeah (Y/N)?’

“Are monsters real?”

                                                       ~Present~

Dean watched you hang your head again before scooting to the side and opening up his covers.

“Wanna talk about it kid?”

Even in your sad and scared state a genuine smile broke out across your face, it was small, but still genuine. Without responding to your brother you kicked off the soft blanket that you had fought Sam for and walked over to Dean’s bed. Since motel beds are always oddly tall you had to do a little jump to get onto it, shooting a quick glare at Dean for being clearly amused at your struggle. Tentatively Dean opened up his arms to you and you awkwardly shuffled in until your head hit his shoulder and you instantly melted. The both of you sat there without a word, wondering what the other was thinking, unaware that you were both thinking the same thing. You thought about how long it had been since you two laid like this, both of you becoming aware of how long it had really been since you showed each other affection and comfort, and how after all of these years you two felt so natural. Neither of you took into account how the other’s muscles softened, how the past few years of Azazel, the door to Hell, your dad’s death, Sam’s death, Dean’s death, demons, vampires, and vengeful spirits all released from your guys’ bodies. For the first time in months neither of you cared about Lucifer or Michael or any other dick with wings. 

“Hey Dean.” You finally broke the near silence.

“Yeah?” Your ear being pressed to Dean’s chest made his voice sound deeper and you could feel his jaw move against the top of your head. 

“Do you remember when I was super young and we were staying at that nice hotel in Seattle and I had that really bad nightmare?” You slipped the comforter under your brother’s arm so you could fidget with it.

“Yeah I do actually, but how the hell do you remember it? You were like what, six? So that means it was ten whole years ago.” 

“I don’t think I would remember it if it wasn’t the start of the recurring nightmare I always have.” The first part was a lie. That night had been the first time you ever truly felt like you had a family, the first time you had felt comfort in your life. You could never forget that. 

“Oh.” Dean began to play with your hair, taking three small pieces and trying to see if he could still remember how to braid, something he learned because you hated how John would always cut your hair. 

“This dream,” you started, “it’s bad. It’s always the same house, this weird grey one with cracked floors and for some reason the walls are cement. It’s weird. But in the dream I can never find my way, it’s like a labyrinth and every time I get more and more lost the hallways get darker and darker. It always starts with me screaming for Sammy and he doesn’t respond, but I can hear him. I can hear him.”, Your voice begins to break, “I can hear him screaming no over and over again, like he’s getting attacked and then when I call out for him again he’s silent. So I’ll start running to find him, I guess I’ve always had a hunter's instinct. Then when I’m running around I trip and every time I trip I always get this feeling of fear about dad yelling at me for always being clumsy. But then when I. '' You stop, dropping your head and gaze so far down that all you can see is your own chest. Dean drops the chunk of hair he was twisting in his fingers and looks down at you.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, lightly squeezing your arm to ground you, something he always does when you’re upset. 

His encouragement only made things worse as tears began to fall again. Closing your eyes you take a quick deep breath.

“When I look down to see what I tripped over it’s you. You’re dead. Bloody with your stomach all ripped up, I never see the monster, but it must be something with claws. Then it just ends there. Tonight was kind of different though. Our ages are always different in the dream. Sammy’s voice always sounds like it did when he was 16 so I don’t think he changes, but sometimes I’m a kid and you’re a teenager like when I first had it or we’re both teenagers or we’re the ages we are now or sometimes I’m a kid and you’re an adult. But tonight, tonight I was 16 like I am now and you were a little kid.”

                                                      ~Flashback~

Dean didn’t know what to do, he felt like the deer that stopped in the headlights and actually got hit. He’d been through this before with Sam, but he had been older and wasn’t already upset when they had the conversation. He had felt guilty every time he lied to Sam about monsters and didn’t want to give you that same false hope, but he resented his dad for teaching him about monsters when he was this young. 

“I’m not sure of anything, (Y/N).” It technically wasn’t a lie, while Dean was sure that monsters existed he wasn’t sure of what to tell you.

“Well actually no, I am sure of one thing. Nothing and I mean nothing, no man, no woman, no animal, and sure as hell no monsters will ever hurt you because you are strong and I will kick their butt if they even try.” Dean meant that fully, he’s meant that since the day his dad sat him and Sam down to tell them they have a little sibling.

“Pink promise?” You said looking up at Dean.

“Pink promise?” He pulled back and questioned you.

“A pink promise.” You huffed, freeing your arm out from under Dean’s and extending your pinky finger.

“Oohh, a pinky promise.” Dean held up his arm and extended his own pinky.

“No, it’s pink promise.” You pulled your hand back.

“Ok, I pink promise that nothing will ever hurt you.” And to that you guys joined pinkies.

                                                     ~Present~

You begin to quietly sob into your brother’s chest. Dean put his hand at the nape of your neck and put his cheek on the top of your head and let you cry it out, as you calmed down he pulled back and kissed your forehead.

“Hey look, peanut. Sammy and I are not going anywhere, we will always be with you, ok. A lot is going on right now and it will all be okay, we’ve gotten out of so many situations that we shouldn’t have and this one will be no different. I pink promise.” Dean raised up his arm and extended his pinky.

“Oh fuck off.” You lightly hit his hand. 

Unfazed Dean kept his hand up and smugly smiled down at you. You sigh and extend your own pinky. As your fingers wrapped around each other your annoyed façade broke, your smile was joined by a few tears.

“Pink promise.”

A/N: So hey, your local forest wench here. This is definitely different from other stuff I post. I’ve never written a fanfiction before(so basically sorry if it’s not too good and please be patient with me), but I do read a lot of of it and maladaptive daydream a lot so I always have plenty of ideas. I came up with this idea this morning and really liked it, thought that maybe other people would like it and that it would be kind of greedy to keep it to myself. I’m actually really insanely proud of this ngl. If people like this and I feel comfortable, I might even write some more in the future.

[stratiotis-nth]

Ever since Cas came back and turned human, it would seem he’s stopped giving a shit about literally everything. When Dean noticed this new aspect of Cas’ colorful personality, he had made himself paranoid that Cas would suddenly start flirting with him on the regular now that his big confession was out in the open.

So while Dean was scared shitless, he was confusingly disappointed when Cas didn’t do that at all.

No. The first thing the ex-angel did after surviving another encounter with death was start a Shotgun war with Sam.

And no, not the bang bang kinda shotgun.

“Shotgun!” Cas practically bellowed down the corridor as the three of them were getting ready to get dinner.

“That’s not fair, Cas! I’m in the bathroom!” Sam complained through the closed door. Cas ignored him completely as he strode past and ducked into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean, who had been desperately trying to stay out of this war, just gave Cas a sideways smile.

“Y’know, the rules are you can’t call shotgun until you actually see the car, Cas.” He told him, his lips tugging up in amusement and…just happiness that Cas was close.

“Until Sam demands to implement this rule, I will abuse his ignorance.” Cas replied, smiling softly. Once again, every time Cas won the passenger seat, Dean wanted to ask what was with his sudden obsession with it. It wasn’t like Cas hadn’t been stubborn enough to claim it before he became human. He wondered what changed, why Cas suddenly cared about seating arrangements. But, as he had been doing ever since they got Cas back (again), Dean bit his tongue. He didn’t want to overwhelm the newly human with the tsunami of questions he had.

Sam griped the entire way to the diner, grumbling about being squished even though Dean knew there was more than enough space. Cas sat next to Dean, watching the trees amble by with a serene, totally unaffected smile on his face. Pleased as a pickle. Dean was fighting his own internal battle between his burning questions and undying amusement at Sam’s plight.

At the diner, Cas sat next to Dean. That much was hardly anything new. The two just naturally gravitated towards each other, and after Dean caught himself drifting mindlessly towards Cas more times than he could count, he stopped giving him grief about personal space.

Cas’ thigh brushed up against his almost the entire meal. Dean pretended not to notice, but internally, he was melting into a puddle of bi panic.

In the parking lot, Sam was quick to call shotgun when Cas got distracted by their waitress catching up to him and giving him her phone number. Dean was too busy bristling and snapping at Cas to hurry up to even notice Sam was sitting next to him.

Cas sulked the entire ride home, the waitress’ number stuffed into one of his pockets. Dean tried not to think that maybe Cas was saving her number for another time.

On Saturday, it was Dean’s turn to go on a food run. Sam was busy working a ghoul case with Eileen, so when Cas wanted to come along there was no yelling match over the front. He ducked into the passenger seat and just about blinded Dean’s poor weak heart with a smile that crinkled his nose.

They fought over eggs for about twenty minutes in the diary aisle. Dean win by threatening to give Sam exclusive access to shotgun. Cas relented with a glower that could have smote demons if he still had his grace.

Eventually, Sam did implement the rule about only calling shotgun with the car in sight, and as the weeks went by and Dean’s silent journey is self realization unfolded, the war at escalated. Now, neither of them could call shotgun without all three of them being in sights of the car. It had gotten bad enough that Sam and Cas waited impatiently for Dean in the garage, staring expectantly for him to round the corner so they could have their yelling match.

Cas nearly blew Dean’s eardrums out, bellowing “SHOTGUN!” loud enough to drown out Sam. He angrily opened his mouth to argue when his phone started ringing.

“It’s Eileen.” He said, his back snapping straight and immediately answering the video call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you give me a ride?” Dean could hear Eileen’s voice over the tinny speakers. “My car broke down and the nearest shop is two hours away.”

“Where are you?”

“An hour away from you? It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Dean saw Sam’s face soften, the tension of worry falling away. He butted in, sticking his face in view of the camera so Eileen could read his lips.

“Just tow it here. I can patch your ride.” He said. “Sam can take the tow truck.”

“Are you sure?” Eileen asked.

“Course. ‘Sides, those guys won’t give you a fair price anyway.” Dean flapped his hand dismissively.

“Thanks, Dean.” Eileen beamed, and oh, Dean knew that smile. Mischievous and damnit, she had planned this from the start, hadn’t she? Just to get a free repair out of him. Dean squinted suspiciously at her, and Eileen just wiggled her eyebrows.

“Cas and I can pick up the curse box and meet you two back here in a few hours.” Dean said. He saw Cas immediately brighten, having secured the passenger seat.

Cas was looking particularly triumphant as they drove, his knees rocking back and forth in a content, mindless sort of way. Finally, Dean couldn’t hold back the question anymore.

He had done his work accepting the fact that he wasn’t as straight as he thought, that it wasn’t very heterosexual to stare at Cas’ lips or pop an awkward boner seeing him all cleaned up after Purgatory, or completely shutting down every time he died or getting all prickly when waitresses give him her phone number. He was gay for Cas, and he had just gotten around to accepting this. Cas said he loved him, right? so Dean shouldn’t be afraid or rejection or anything. Yeah, no he was terrified.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He turned to him with that soft smile that Dean wanted all to himself.

“I gotta ask, man,” Dean chuckled a little awkwardly and kept his eyes firmly on the road. “Why are you so determined about sitting shotgun? You’ve never been before.”

“Ah.” Cas hummed, turning back to the road too. “I suppose now I have the freedom to pursue the things I want. Chuck is gone and my deal with the Empty is null in void. I have time to…focus my attentions on other things.”

“The things you want? What, you got a better view up here or something?”

“Well yes, the windshield does allow more viewing space.” Cas agreed. “But it’s not my main goal in doing all this.”

“Then…what is?”

“Dean.” Cas said in that ever patient, you’re-being-dumb-about-this voice. “I enjoy being up here because it allows me to be closer to you. You are the view I most admire, Dean. I’m always so helplessly drawn to you.”

Dean’s mouth had gone a little dry and his grip on the wheel was suddenly sweaty. The silence that fell was deafening. Cas didn’t even look concerned. He just sat there waiting the road as if he hadn’t just said something so…so…soft to Dean.

Helplessly drawn. Like Cas couldn’t bear being away from him. Like Dean was this perfect, magnetic thing that Cas was enchanted by, something worth having around.

With a jerk of the wheel, Dean was pulling over on the side of the empty highway in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. He threw Baby into park before twisting around and staring at Cas.

He didn’t even look vaguely concerned, the fucker. He just gave Dean a patient look.

Dean opened his mouth, and closed it. Did it again, ready to tell Cas everything. Snapped his jaw shut.

Cas watched in cool amusement. Dean felt his cheeks get hot.

“Screw this.” He grumbled to himself, before lunging across the bench, grabbing Cas’ face with both hands, and kissing him square on the lips.

He felt Cas freeze for a moment, probably in total shock, before he started moving.

Dean nearly choked on a gasp as the chapped, warm lips started pushing and devouring, Cas was suddenly the one taking charge, shoving Dean back against his window as he clambered across the seats to get on top of him.

Twelve years of pent up emotions came crashing out in a sudden burst of unstoppable passion. And as soon as it started, it seemed to have stopped. They both were panting, Dean’s jeans were tight and his entire body screamed to have Cas against him again. But Cas had made to move away, putting space between him as he looked at Dean with wide eyes.

He didn’t get very far. Dean grabbed ahold of his jacket lapels and held on tight with an iron grip, keeping Cas hovering inches above him, basically sharing air.

“Wanna hear a secret?” He whispered between heavy breathes. Cas just blinked at him. “I’ve always rooted for you getting shotgun.”

Cas’ kiss swollen lips split into a dazzling smile, and he rewarded Dean with another intense make out session. When they pulled away, Dean found the words spilling out of his mouth.

“I love you too, Cas. You can have me. God, you have had me, for years you have. Can’t believe it took me so long, I’m sorry I made you think you couldn’t have me, I’m sorry it took me so long—“

Cas shut him up with another kiss, and Dean’s ramble faded into a helpless whimper that too was swallowed up by Cas.

“Does this mean I get exclusive shotgun privileges?” Cas asked a few hours later than they finally took the curse box off the poor shopkeeper’s hands. They had arrived nearly an hour late, not that Dean (or his dick for that matter) particularly cared.

“Honestly? Play it up to Sam and he might let you get away with it for a while.” Dean chuckled. Without even thinking too hard about it, his free hand slithered over the bench, grabbing Cas’ and entwining their fingers. Something so small and simple, yet made Dean light up like a sun.

If Cas didn’t manage to convince Sam, Dean sure as hell would.

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

LINK

Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!

AO3  (2.1k)

The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.

Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.

Like today, for example.

Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.

Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.

He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.

It was Cas.

Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.

He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .

He’d never been buying hamburger meat.

Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.

“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”

Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.

His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.

None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.

“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“

Dean turned and ran out of the store.

*

What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?

Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.

Jimmy Novak was here.

Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.

Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.

His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.

Where was Cas?

Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?

In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.

Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.

“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“

Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.

“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”

Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.

“...what?” He heard himself saying.

Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?

Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.

Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.

“It was my trenchcoat!”

Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sped off, once again running from what could have been.

*

Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.

He ignored it.

After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.

Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.

A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.

“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.

“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”

Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.

And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”

Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.

“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”

Dean winced.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?

“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”

“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”

Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.

“You knew?”

Jimmy smirked.

“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”

“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.

“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”

“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”

Jimmy held out a beer can.

“Good thing you’re already dead.”

Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.

“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”

Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.

He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.

“What?” Dean said, indignantly.

“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dean looked away.

“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”

“Well, fucking spill.”

Jimmy paused.

“Why do you love him?”

Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.

Dean sat back down.

“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”

Jimmy shrugged again.

“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He’s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath.

“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”

Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.

“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

“Wh-”

“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”

Care how he - what?  

What was happening?

Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.

Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.

Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.

In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.

On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.  

“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”

“I love you, too.”

The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.

“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”

“. . . you love me?”

Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.

“ Even as this?”

“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”

“Dean. . .”

Dean smiled up at him in understanding.

“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”

“Oh I can -”

And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.

“- make myself more manageable.”

Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening

He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.

“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.

Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.

“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Masterlist 8/25/2021

This is a full list of every fic I’ve wrote. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in anything or if any link don’t work, or if a chapter is missing. Thanks :) Bold titles are the first of a a different fic.

Supernatural

Late Night Drinking Dean x Reader Just Sleep Dean x Reader The Moon Sam x Reader Bad Habit SMUT Sam x Reader x Dean No Wincest

Green Eyed Man: Vampire Reader x Dean

Green Eyes

Dean

Sweetheart

Bittersweet

First Time  Smut

Human Final Part

Dinner Party Dean x Reader

Let’s Play

The Game

Make It Better Final Part

Bartender: Dean x Reader

We Need It Smut

Stay

He Needs You Smut

My Job

Hunter In The Closet

I Kill Monsters

Mother

I’m Staying Final Part

Betrayal Dean x OC Scarlet Smut

Running

Playing with Fire

Pretend Smut

Regret

Don’t Tempt Me

Giving In Smut

Lips Of An Angel

Moving On

Getting Help

What Now

Let’s Do This

Things Get Awkward

Stolen Moments

That’s My Job

Promise

Bad News

New Beginnings

A Little Messed Up Smut

Betrayed

Start Over Final Part

Different Worlds Dean x Reader

Remember

Animal Inside

Wash It Away

Changing Rooms

I Know You  Final Part

The Mark Dean x OC Amora

The Mark 2

The Mark 3

The Mark 4

The Mark 5

Angel Eyes Dean x OC

Back From The Dead

You Remember

Tattoos

Kitten AU Dean x OC Sophia

Back To Him

Broken

Questions 

Explanations

Emotions

Movie Night

We’ve Got Time

Speak For Me

Second Thoughts

Harry Potter

I Bet Draco x Reader

Complicated

Prove it

Win The Bet

Labyrinth

Back To The Castle  Sarah X Jareth

Fatal Attraction. Reader X Jareth

Vampire Diaries

Perfect  VampireReader X Damon. Smut

I Never Left Reader x Damon Smut

Only for you Reader x Damon

Turning VampireReader x Damon

Feeding

Vampire Princess Damon x OC Slow Burn

Night In The Woods

Guest

All Mixed Up

I’m Forgiven

Vampire?

Lost Girls

Too Close

Surprise

Ghost and Witches

Left Behind

The Turning Point

Road Trip

Copy

Black Veil Brides.

The Fallen Angel Reader X Andy

I’m His Mother Reader X Andy

Ashes Reader X Andy

Rest BabyDoll Reader X Ashley

Happy Birthday Reader X Andy Smut

A Team Andy X Reader

Rebel Yell

Never Give In

Beautiful Remains

It’s Not Kidnapping If You Don’t Put Up A Fight

7 Years Of Good Luck

Wanna Go For A Walk?

I’m Sorry

Wake Up

What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

Loveless

Bittersweet

You Came Back

Well I Guess I Win Then

Kiss Me Smut

I Wish I Could Remember

Roller Coaster

I Promise

Hi Sleepy I’m Batman

To Good To Be True

Saved Me

Safe and Sound

Old Friends

Day In The Life

He Was Hot

Mrs. Biersack

Ever After  END

Teen Wolf

His Mate Reader X Derek His Reader X Derek

Red Riding Hood Derek x OC

Smell Of The Rain

Wolves In The Woods

The Walking Dead

You Okay? Reader X Daryl

Everyday  Reader x Daryl

Feelings Locked Inside AU Negan x Reader. Smut

Cake Reader X Negan

Okay Negan request

First Time Negan x Reader Smut

Are We Really Doing This? Negan x Reader Smut

A Touch Reader X Negan Slow Burn

Angel Reader X Negan

You’re Safe Here

Sing Me A Song

Home?

Stay Or Go

Smoke Rings

In The Dark

Guilt

Lost

Buried

Trust

Nightmares

To Close

Mistake? Smut

Her Or Me?

A Feeling

Changes

A Vist

The Road So far

Playing House

Story Time

Guts

You’ve Changed

For The Better

Different

Stones

Normal

Feel Like Talking? AU Negan x OC Leah

To Hard To Breathe

Strawberry Wine

Shared Sorrows

What Would You Fight For?

The 100

Halfway Reader X Bellamy

Closer Reader X Bellamy

Do You Trust Me

I Trust You

War

I’m Not A Grounder

We Are All Grounders

The Enemy

Of My Enemy

You Survived

Scars Of War

What Have We Become?

I Do Not Know

Tomorrow Bellamy x Reader

The Last Of Us

The Cowboy and The Girl  Joel x Oc

The Plan

The Outside

Go Down Swinging

Hurt

Old Wounds

Traveling

The Past

Traps

Bill

I Need You

Marvel

Rocky Start  Thor x OC

Lady Alva

You Don’t Know Me

Look At Me

Riddick Universe

Snow In The Dark Riddick x OC Snow

Show Me Your Eyes

Beginnings

[booksforevermore13]

Perhaps, it's the colours that started the story

Summary: The colour she sees first is the colour of his eyes. Of the boy she singles out in the crowd, just barely eleven, she can tell, yet she doesn't know why she chose him, why when she sees him, she sees the colours.

They were supposed to see the colours together. Instead, she was the one who saw first.

Read it on Fanfiction or AO3 if you prefer!

...

The colour she sees first is the colour of his eyes. Of the boy she singles out in the crowd, just barely eleven, she can tell, yet she doesn't know why she chose him, why when she sees him, she sees the colours.

His eyes are… they're this colour. This colour she's only heard of from her mother. But she doesn't know what it is, but it isn't black, it isn't white. It isn't grey like the trees. Or perhaps, they are and she doesn't know, because it's the first time she's seeing them. The colours.

But it starts with him.

"Mum," she breathes out, and her eyes are burning, she can hear her heart beating painfully fast, and nothing else. She's trying awfully hard not to cry, but it seems so impossible at the moment.

The boy doesn't see her, but she knows it's him.

"Yes, Ginny dear," she hears her mother say, but she knows her mum's not really listening to her.

"I can see them, Mum. I can see the colours."

Ginny doesn't think her mother hears her, but like a firework in the sky, her world suddenly explodes. She blinks once, twice, and when she opens her eyes the third time, she gasps, for she can see them.

She can see the colours.

His name is Harry, like the Harry she's heard stories of, and she's looking at him, taking all of him in, for he's here. He's finally here.

He wants to know how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

She can't bring herself to say.

Ginny doesn't know why she chose him, if it was his eyes, or because he was handsome - but because, for the first time in her life, Ginny finds herself silenced in his presence. The Ginny Weasley, the girl who had to be told to shut up a thousand times every day, had finally done so. And all because of him.

She wonders if he'd started seeing the colours too. Or maybe he just hadn't seen her yet.

She thinks it's a good time to step forward now. To make her seen.

"That red wall, dear? You need to walk right through it," her mother says. "Right in the middle."

"Um… I'm sorry ma'am," he gulps. "R-red? What wall?"

Ginny's heart sinks at that, but she still keeps on repeating to herself.

He just hadn't seen her yet.

Her mum frowns, and then as if realising something crucial to the story, like she had, she smiles. "You can't see the colours as well, can you, dearie? Our Ginny here too` can't see them."

I can see them now, Mum. I can see the colours.

Her mother pulls her in front, and Harry looks at her, grins, but there's no spark. No glint, no surprise, like she thought she'd see. She'd hoped she'd see. He doesn't see them.

He doesn't see the colours.

"Hello," he says, but she can't bring herself to say it back. She's too busy holding back tears.

His eyes don't seem so magical at the moment.

Why couldn't he see the colours too?

What did she do wrong?

"Can't you," she whispers, "can't you see them?"

"See what?"

"The colours."

He smiles ruefully, shrugs, as if it didn't matter to him. Ginny wants to scream at him, tell him it mattered to her, tell him she was seeing them, for the first time in her life, why wasn't he?

"Maybe I'm not meant to."

Her heart sinks, and she struggles not to cry, slowly slinking behind her mother's back.

After they all go home, her mum and her dad, and only her, she lies on her bed, late at night, and cries her eyes out.

…

The colours were simply hues of grey to lift her from her monochrome existence. Each one was like a subtle sea over the other, noticeable, but submissive to the stone underneath. She'd shown just a glimpse, just a fraction of her inner spirit, and he'd flocked to her like a lost child.

Except he wasn't the one lost. She was. He'd used that. He'd used her.

Once, he'd told her she was stupid. Stupid to be running after someone she couldn't reach.

Ginny agreed with him. She thought he was right.

"When are you going to stop clawing for something that's never going to happen?"

At least Tom had been right about something.

If she thinks about it, he'd been right about everything.

"When are you going to accept that you were the only one meant to?"

Sometimes, she doesn't know if it's his voice in her head or hers. If it's him speaking or her. She'd lost that ability months ago when she'd let him speak for her. When she'd let him be her.

She was never going to let anyone do that to her. Ever again.

And if that meant she'd have to let Harry go, then so be it. If she had to believe that that day, she'd been the only one with colours, then that would have to do.

"Soulmates don't exist, you silly girl."

She'd been stupid to believe they did.

…

Ginny moves on.

It takes time, but it's not just overnight you wake up and finally feel like yourself.

But fifth year, when she makes the Quidditch team, she feels this might be it.

Ginny knows she should have made it her second year. Not three years later. But second year, when her days had gone by with her mostly avoiding the looks of disgust she got in the corridors and the pity she didn't ask for from her professors, her brothers constantly looking over her every second of every day, tryouts had been a mere lingering thought in her mind. And if that hadn't been enough, the team hadn't been holding any that year.

In a way, her second year had been far worse than her first. In a way, it hadn't.

Ginny moves on though.

She moves on.

She can still see the colours. They haven't left yet. She doesn't think they ever will. It's the same with Harry. He's there, but he isn't. Not in the way she'd like him to be, but she figures, maybe it's just her screwed over. Maybe while putting two people together, they did her up wrong. She doesn't mind. Or maybe, she does.

Right now, she feels, the right word is indifferent.

That's why, when she kisses Dean, she does so, because she wants to. They're not soulmates, they could never be, but in all true sense, he's a good kisser, and she likes him.

And in all true sense, when he tells her he loves her, she's guilty because she knows she'll never really say it back. Even though he deserves to hear it. But she won't. She can't.

"Hey." Ginny turns around, grinning at Harry while he jogs over to her. "Sickle for your thoughts?" he says as he comes to a stop, and she tosses him his gloves, while she slipped on hers. All his years playing Quidditch had done him good, clearly, and once when, she had been the one taller than him, had turned into him standing well over a foot above her.

"Oh, you're going to need much more than a sickle," she teases, walking beside him to the castle grounds. She's early for practice, she nearly always is, and she suspects it's partly because she knows he'll be early too.

"I'm sure."

Ginny glances at him through the corner of her eye, wondering if he could see the colours now. It's been years since she'd asked him. She didn't want to now. Now, she never did.

"Lucky for you, I'm in the mood for some chit-chat," she continues, and he shoots her a mirthful glance, and Ginny wiggles her eyebrows.

"Lucky for me."

"Oh, you bet it is." She shoves him, and he laughs, his voice deeper than what it was before. It's more attractive too, she can't help but notice.

"I've a date with Dean today," she announces, beckoning him to set into a run. She easily keeps pace as they jog around the field, her, slightly tense as to his reply.

But he's silent. Ginny frowns. Her dates are usually a good conversation-starter for her brother, and Harry isn't much different from him. She'd expected him to at least balk, like the numerous times Ron had done.

"That usually requires a reply, you know?"

"Do you want to go?" Harry asks, surprising her, and she looks at him, appearing to be amused when she really wasn't.

If she had been in the mood to be truthful, she'd have said no. Ginny didn't want to go. Not with Dean Thomas.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

They're silent then. They're silent after. Ginny can't help the tugging feeling in her gut, that's pushing her to ask that one question, that single piece of information that she's been dying to know since… forever. But she won't, because it's been years since she'd chased something she couldn't reach and she wasn't going to do it again.

But in the end, she wins. Tom loses.

"Can you see them?" she asks finally. "The colours?"

It's like a flash, like a jolt. His expression changes, and he grins at her, his ridiculously handsome boyish grin, and she's almost dreading the answer because she knows what it's going to be. Because she knows this is where she finally learns she's not the one.

"I do," he says, and his grin widens. "I can see all of them."

She nods, smiling at him, when really, she feels crushed, defeated.

She chose him. Evidently, they didn't share the same equation.

"I do want to," she says finally, "go on that date with Dean."

Ginny turns away after, blinks back tears.

...

Ginny wasn't a Seeker.

She was a damn Chaser.

She didn't catch the Snitch.

She caught the Quaffle.

So, the fact that she currently had a bright, golden Quaffle, clasped in her fingers while she lay squat in the middle of the field was something that she should be positively yelling about.

And yet, she sits still, Snitch clasped in her fingers, for really, yelling is the last thing she wants to do now. All she can really do is look at it.

And all she can think is that if this was what it felt, catching the Snitch, holding it taught against her palm, its wings fluttering against her skin, then she finally understood why Harry did it. The thrill he felt. The thrill she feels now. She's felt it before when she beat out Cho for it, but this, this feels different. This feels more real somehow.

And then she hears yelling, and she's laughing, yelling along, as Peakes and Coote lifts her up in the air, as she raises her hand, showing her team the golden snitch.

This, this is where she belongs. Where she's meant to be.

Ginny jumps down, letting Peakes and Coote pull her into a hug, pulling Ron into one herself, and through all of it, every single smile, and every single laugh, part of her is just dying to see Harry. Part of her just wants to tell him that she caught the bloody Snitch.

So, when she sees him, at the bottom of the stairs of the boy's dormitory, she laughs, and sets into a run, and as she launches herself at him, he pulls her close by her waist, and kisses her. In front of fifty watching Gryffindors, he kisses her, his lips like a dream against hers, as she wraps her arms around him.

And after several long moments, when they do finally break apart, she's laughing, startled, of course, but she's laughing. She's happy.

Harry grins down at her, his green eyes like the tinted glass jars her mother kept at home (as if he was already part of her home), and gestures wordlessly at the door.

She's smiling, but when she nods, she allows him to guide her away.

…

"I see the colours," he tells her as the Common Room door closes behind them.

She smiles, walking along beside him, letting the walls guide them to the grounds.

"When did you see them?"

"I don't know. One day, I just did."

She smiles harder, not knowing if she could ever quite stop. Harry's looking at her, as if he's waiting for her to say something, but she doesn't. So he goes on.

"I think… i-it was while I was at the Burrow," he says, "or, I don't know, but I saw you, and then I saw your eyes. I saw brown, this warm chocolate brown and then it sort of, just —"

" - exploded," she said for him.

"Yeah."

He asks her now, for it's his turn. "When did you see them?"

Ginny smiles ruefully, glancing away at that. She isn't so sure if she should reveal it, for revealing that would mean sharing something that had haunted her for as long as she could remember. It was the first time she had felt unwanted, like an extra piece in a puzzle.

For her, finding her soulmate had always meant that one thing in one's life that would make them feel as if they'd found their other someone. It was what her mother had told her when she was young, it was what her mum had felt when she'd met Dad.

But at that time, hers had been anything but.

"I… uh, same," she stammers. "It happened out of nowhere."

"No, it didn't," Harry shoots her a mirthful glance. And then, like clockwork, his smile turns into a frown. "It… wasn't at the train station that day, was it?" he asks. "The day we first met?"

Ginny offers him a weak smile, and she supposes it's answer enough, as he breathes in sharply, eyes holding horror, surprise, she couldn't say.

"All this time?"

She shrugs, looking away. "It wasn't up to me," she says, her eyes prickling with tears. "I saw you," she laughs it off, for it's what she's always done, "and then my whole world turned upside down."

"You never said anything."

"How could I? I saw the colours, but you never did."

Harry stops her, grabs hold of her hand, and holds it tight, his hand warm against her cold ones, and she laughs, because kissing him might have felt like a dream, but being with him, here, with her hand locked in his, was hers.

"I'd have tried," he says, "I'd have done anything," and his eyes hold fire she's rarely seen, but that fire, it doesn't burn. It never has.

"We were eleven, Harry," she smiles, slipping her fingers through his. "I didn't even know what love was when I met you. I still don't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I still am."

Ginny laughs, and she bends forward, kissing him like he'd kissed her before, and it's a kiss where she feels stirring in her chest, warm and curious, like she had felt back in the common room. It's a kiss that makes her want another.

"I like the way your hand fits in mine," he whispers against her lips, and she smiles, before he kisses her again.

…

A year and a half later, when she kisses him again, it's among dust and grey. It's among pain and anguish. It's when they're trying hard not to cry, it's when they're trying their best to stay together.

"Are you hurt?" he says urgently, between kisses. "Gin, are you hurt?"

"No, Harry, it's okay, I'm fine."

He breathes out in relief, his lips getting tenser as they stay against hers, until Ginny has to pull away, make him look into her eyes.

"It's over, okay?" she says, holding his face gently, her thumb running over the bruises along his jaw. "It's over."

He looks at her then, and his face crumbles, and Ginny has to breathe in, in sharp gasps as his tears break loose, but hers don't. They slide down against the broken remnants of a wall, and she's hiding her face in his shoulder, as he cries into her lap.

"I'm sorry," he says, over and over again, and Ginny feels her heart breaking, everytime he says so. "This isn't what I wanted," he sobs, "I never wanted them to die."

"This isn't your fault," she whispers, but at this point, she can barely say anything without her voice breaking.

"I'm so sorry," he says again, and Ginny wipes away her tears furiously against his shirt, pulling him up by her hands.

"Hey," she says, "hey, hey." Ginny lifts his face, wiping away his tears as hers break loose. "You have nothing to be sorry for, you hear me, Harry? This is not your fault."

Her voice cracks, and his face falls, and this time, it's him that pulls her in for a hug, as she rests her face against his chest, lets his shirt soak in her tears, while she feels his own against her head.

A year and a half later, when she kisses him again, among the dust and the grey, she knows it just might be for forever.

...

The life she has, it's the life she chose.

The boy she singled out in the crowd, just eleven years old - she picked him out, not because he was famous, but because he had, in the short span of an infinitely long ten seconds, taught her the art of shutting up. That he had, in the course of her life, made her feel like fireworks and danger.

Ginny marries him, builds a family with him, even though she knows it's a risk, but Harry's well worth the risk.

So, one night, a couple of years later, as Harry sits beside her on the couch, her head resting against her shoulder, while he half-pretends to read something about work, when really, he's doing that weird thing and looking at her, Ginny looks up at him and can't help but ask: why did you suddenly fall in love with me?

And it is a moment of quiet, a moment where really his answer is all she's waiting for, among the crackling fire in front of them, the sweet smell of bacon lingering in their kitchen, the steady beat of his heart against his chest, and them, as Harry drops a kiss into her hair.

"It's because when I saw you, I saw the colours. I saw all of them."

...