#the way he does the supernatural brothers look ( flannel + leather jacket ) so well is UHHH. OMG that's all i have to say y'all lolll ☠️

[mad-hunts]

[katehuntington]

Title: Changes - part nine Word count:  ±4350 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part nine: Dean finds an unexpected guest in the bridal suite. Warnings: Smut, NSFW, 18+ only! To prevent spoilers, all spoilers for the entire story are listed in the masterlists. Music: One Of These Nights - The Eagles (opening scene), Skin On Skin - Queens Of The Stone Age. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @winchest09��� & @kittenofdoomage​ who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

     With a grunt muffled by his pillow, Dean wakes up. He keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the blissful slumber for a moment. A familiar song echoes through the room; he recognizes the peculiar intro after a few beats, identifying it as an Eagles song. He sighs and smiles, relieved. He’s relaxed, well rested and pain free; thank God for vicodin. Strangely, though, he didn’t remember the radio playing when he fell asleep. Then he notices the sound of the shower running. It’s only now, when Dean opens his eyes, rubs his face and looks over his shoulder. While licking his lips, he stares at the purple clock on the wall; it’s almost 7 PM.

     “Aren’t you a bit late for your play date?” he comments, loud enough for Sam to hear him, as he slides off the bed.      Still a bit sleepy he pads over to the bathroom entrance, barefoot. As he does, Dean glances at the table, where he remembers Sam dumped most of his stuff. His laptop is set up, buzzing like it’s sawing down an entire forest. Next to the table he notices a half emptied duffel bag. Only his own old leather jacket hangs from the coat hanger; Sam’s is missing. The alarm bells start ringing in his head by the time he notices that his car keys aren’t on the little cabinet next to the bed where he left them; his brother isn’t here. But if he isn’t, who is? 

     In three large strides he is next to the bed and grabs his gun from under the pillow, then sneaks up to the bathroom again as he flips the safety switch off. Although he was fast asleep a minute ago, he’s wide awake now. Adrenaline rushes through his veins when he enters the bathroom, his weapon ready to fire between both hands. Instead of some supernatural creature, which he was prepared for, he stumbles on Zoë, wearing nothing but a bathrobe.      “No, I’m right on time,” she answers, grinning.      “Zoë?! For fuck's sake!” Dean lowers his gun and breathes out. “What are you doing here?”      She turns to him and crosses her arms in front of her chest with the usual attitude.      “Let's start over: ‘Hi, Zo, nice to see you!’”      “Well, if I said that, I’d be lying,” Dean responds, not amused by her unexpected visit.      “Oh, come on. You’re not still cranky, are you?” she chuckles.      He walks out, pushing his gun under his pillow again. It’s just now that he notices the music is coming from Zoë’s Macbook, which she has installed near the window, the curtains hiding the device from plain sight.      “I am still mad, as a matter of fact. So for the second time; what are you doing here?” he asks again, grumpily.      “There was a fuss at the motel, I got into a fight with the shifter. Broke some stuff, police on their way. Yada yada. You know how it is,” she explains carelessly.      “The shifter?” Now she has Dean’s full attention. “You got into a fight with the shifter?”      “Yeah. The bastard followed me from the bar to the motel. Don’t ask, long story,” she says, apparently not finding it worth the elaboration.

     Dean follows her with his eyes. “So he was at Beetle's.”      “Yep, as Terry Cliffer. He almost had me fooled,” she admits with a chuckle.      “But you got him, right?”      Dean gets his confirmation, her raised eyebrow and a tilt of the head saying enough.       “Who do you think I am?” she scoffs, insulted.

     Dean takes a look at the huntress, eying her from top to bottom before a grin twitches at the corner of his mouth. He might still be cross with her, but having her standing in his hotel room in nothing more than a bathrobe, does raise a few dirty thoughts. Dean has to admit; she looks hot as hell. He wouldn’t mind having a peek at what’s under that robe, guessing that she’s not wearing anything else, since she just took a shower. Her hair is darkened by the water, droplets seeking a trail down her collarbone and into her cleavage. Although she washed off her makeup, she still has these warm, penetrating eyes, somewhere between hazel and chocolate. Her skin is smooth and a natural blush fires her cheeks. Zoë is one of those girls who doesn’t need to highlight her strong features with all that shit woman put on their faces to look pretty.      “Do you really want me to  answer that?” Dean counters sly.

     “Oh, never mind.” She rolls her eyes and strolls to the window, glancing outside into the night. “I got him, but no thanks to your brother.”      Dean's expression goes blank. Oops, Zoë might have a reason to be pissed off with them once again.      “He fucked up?” he assumes.      “Just a little,” she scoffs, raising her hand and putting her forefinger to her thumb, only leaving a small space between her fingertips. “He chased the shapeshifter and apparently had an encounter with him in his hideout. That didn’t go so well for your dear brother and he got locked up with the others. By the time I got there, the damn chameleon had already shed. So guess who I was facing?”          Dean raises his eyebrows; Sam of course. Worry washes over him.      “Is my brother okay?” he asks demanding.      “He’s fine,” Zoë snaps. “Thanks for asking how I am, by the way. I was the one who got attacked from behind by a shapeshifter slash Sasquatch.”       The huntress closes the curtains further, not wanting this to turn into a peepshow for people passing by.      “Where is Sam now?” Dean questions, his nerves calmed a little, but still not totally at ease.      “He volunteered to cover tracks. He mentioned something about you having a girl over for the night,” she recalls.

     Again Dean freezes. Shit! Vicodin girl. He almost forgot about her. She’ll probably show up in two and a half hours or so. His gaze shifts to the scarcely covered woman in the room again. It would be the night of the century, two hot chicks in one evening. In a fucking bridal suite. Maybe Sam didn’t pick such a bad place afterall. He looks over, capturing the huntress with his emerald greens. He can't help it, but he knows his eyes are sparkling.      “Looks like he was right.”       She grins at that remark, amused by his attempt to woo her. Going along with it, she walks towards him, slowly and elegantly.      “You would love to see that happen, wouldn’t you?” she teases.

     Dean takes a shuddering breath, stunned to witness this seductful side of Zoë he hasn’t quite seen before. The song in the background fades to Skin On Skin by Queens of the Stone Age as the gorgeous woman approaches. He has to admit that he fantasized about her once or twice today, because - come on - just look at her. But with their rivalry, he never thought it would happen. Fuck, please let me be wrong about that one, he thinks to himself.

     With lust in her eyes, she takes the collar of his flannel between her fingers and reels him in. When she moves closer, her mouth hovering over his, he reluctantly creates a distance. He expected a lot from Zoë, but this can’t really be happening, right? Was she playing hard to get all this time? He could've sworn Zoë wasn't into him at all; all they do is fight.      She pouts. “Oh, don’t get awkward with me. You want to.”       “Y’know, I normally don’t do this until the second date,” he says, referring to their talk this morning, when she patched him up.       “The second date? I don’t think you’ve ever known a girl this long before you headed for your home run,” she counters.

     Dean tilts his head slightly and nods, admittingly; she’s got a point there. Her arms cross behind his neck and she looks deep into his eyes when he returns her glance, challenging him. Her tongue peeks past her teeth, only just, but Dean notices, his focus flicking down to her lips.      “Well then,” she responds. “What are you waiting for? You like to have fun, don’t you?”      He stares back and can’t help his jaw from going slack. Automatically he reaches for her waist, fingertips softly pressing into her flesh. He seems to be looking in the eyes of Medusa, unable to move. She inches closer, pressing her hips into his, her pelvis rolling against the growing bulge in his jeans. Her grip around his neck tightens; he has nowhere to go if he wanted to. Their noses touch, he can feel her warm breath on his skin.      “Dean?”      “What?” he husks.      She tilts her head and moves her mouth close to his ear, ready to share a little secret.      “I am fun.” 

     Okay, that’s it. There’s no possible way that any straight guy in the universe could resist Zoë Sullivan, not to mention Dean Winchester. He gives in and meets her half way in a bruising kiss. Without any hesitation whatsoever, she opens her mouth to him immediately, swiping her tongue along his so unbelievably intense, that it catches him by surprise. His heart rate picks up as she grinds her body against his, her nails running through his hair, scratching his scalp to the point that it hurts, but in the best kind of way. He lets his hands explore her figure, feeling her shiver under his touch, even through the fleece fabric of her robe. 

     Leaving no time to waste, Zoë moves her hands down his toned chest, then lower, until she cups his erection through his jeans. The normally so fierce hunter, who always stands his ground no matter how challenging the fight or how crippling the pain, almost caves then and there. He breaks the kiss when oxygen becomes scarce, pressing her forehead against hers. Their noses touch, but she doesn’t kiss the hunter again. He can feel her grin against him, though, when she softly kneads his hardening dick through the fabric of his pants, breathing in his air when he groans. Dean sigh heavily; Jesus fucking Christ.

     Despite the undivided attention she offers, he manages to undo the knot in the sash, opens her bathrobe slightly and slips his left hand between the fleece material and her skin. She feels warm, still heated from the shower, or is it something else? He travels down her body further, tracing the lines of her silhouette, slowly descending towards her core. With his palm pressed against the softness of her abdomen, Dean allows his touch to travel lower. Zoë stiffens, pausing her actions when the hunter opposite of her ghosts over her inner thighs, riling her up. Hungrily she buries her face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder, muffling a moan when the hunter parts her folds with his thick fingers and press into her. Now it’s Dean who smirks, pleased with her reaction and the slick he feels between her legs; she’s so goddamn wet already. 

     He repeats the act, dipping into her soaked center, gathering her juices before rubbing a small circle over her clit, finding the sensitive nub with ease. Zoë jerks, her grip on him tightening, a sound between a whimper and cry escaping her mouth. Dean can’t possibly imagine it, but judging from her response it seems like she hasn’t had sex in a while. She’s so eager, so willingly allowing him to please her; quite the opposite to the attitude he got from her so far. 

     The hunter pulls in a sharp intake of air when, despite approaching her own high, Zoë unbuckles his belt, flicks open the button of his jeans and runs down the zipper enough to have some space to work. She slips into his boxers, wraps her fingers around his hardened shaft and slowly starts to jerk him off. Dean tilts his head back and closes his eyes, grunting, a fiery sensation spreading to his limbs and rolling back to gather in his coil. Pre cum drips into her hand, smoothening the friction of the pumping motion. He collects himself, his jaw setting when she takes advantage of his exposed throat, sucking on his skin that without doubt will leave a mark. Fuck, the things he would do to have that sinful mouth somewhere else right now.

     Trying to distract himself and prevent his climax from arriving embarrassingly fast, he pushes two fingers into her heat, the feel of the soft velvet of her walls delightful. His thumb flicks over her clit again while he curls his digits, letting them glide in and out in a steady rhythm. It’s obvious it has an effect on her, her sighs labored. The steady tempo in which she was pumping his erection until a moment ago, begins to falter. He feels her buckling forward and supports her, ignoring his injured shoulder, the dull pain suppressed by painkillers. The hunter pulls her closer to his chest and kisses her again, his arm snaking under the bathrobe she’s still wearing, his hand splayed between her shoulder blades. 

     Standing in the middle of the room while working each other over proves to be more difficult by the second, as he too feels his legs tingling and close to giving out, but it adds to the accelerating moment as well. For a second he considers taking her to that waterbed bed and fuck her into the waves until she comes, but he decides against it. He’s going to save it for later, because Zoë might think he’s a cocky bastard, he is determined to show her his arrogance when it comes to his skills in the bedroom are more than justified. 

     Her breathing picks up, the exhales more audible whenever her mouth leaves his, turning into sultry moans now that she’s nearing her peak. Unable to multitask at this point, her grip on his rock hard dick loosens further. Thankfully, because he was about to blow, and he’s nowhere near done with the voluptuous huntress.      She clenches around him, her nails digging into his back now. He watches her as her mouth hangs slack, her lips red and full with arousal. The sounds she makes will without doubt travel beyond the walls of the suite, but she doesn’t seem to care; Zoë is anything but a prude. 

     Dean continues to rub the pad of his thumb in ovals, while pushing his fingers as deep as he can, three of them at this point. She begins to tremble, her eyes shut tight, her brows pulled together.      “That’s it,” he husks. “Does that feel good?”      “G-god, yes,” she manages to utter. “Dean, please… m-make me come.”            He stares at the face, which is contorted with pleasure. Holy fucking shit, she just begged him. Zoë Sullivan just begged for an orgasm. Who would have thought he’d ever hear a plea like that fall from her lips. Dean doesn’t have to be told twice; he turns up both pressure and speed by a nodge. She stops breathing all together, her muscles so tight that they spasm. The build up is almost too much for her too handle, her painfully blissful grip and her quaking body telling him she’s almost there. 

     Right as Dean wonders how much longer she’s going to last without air, Zoë cries out, coming undone on his fingers. With a content smile on his lips he works her through it, her dripping walls pulsing as he slowly and gently moves out and back into her, while he supports her crumbling form. Watching a woman climax has always been one of his favorite aspects about sex, but witnessing the tough as nails huntress completely spent by his doing, has got to be the sexiest view he’s ever seen.      “You alright?” he chuckles, low and gruff.      She nods, regaining composure. Dean retrieves his digits from her and is stunned when she takes his hand and brings it up to suck his fingers into her mouth, her tongue collecting her own juices. He wets his lips, too, his dick responding to the sensual sight. Jesus, just when he thought she couldn’t get any hotter.      Zoë lets go of him then, pushing him off, teasingly. He looks up from her lips on which the slick shimmers, into her hypnotizing eyes. She grins devilish as she speaks the words he hoped to hear.      “Now it’s your turn.” 

     Without breaking the contact, she lets the bathrobe slide from her shoulders, watching confidently how Dean takes her in. It doesn’t happen often, but he’s lost for words. Before him stands a woman who could be on the cover of even the most exclusive skin mag. He felt her body under his touch and knew she was gorgeous, but to actually see her completely naked, shows that ‘gorgeous’ doesn’t quite cut it. Her beautiful hourglass-shaped waist, proportioned breasts, not too big for her frame, but small and perky. Slender yet muscular, clearly trained and prepared to take on evil. Shit, she’s the American wet dream.

     When he looks closer, he notices the stories her body has to tell. Tattoos decorate her rib cage, her groin and the inside of her biceps, but right now Dean is too distracted to philosophize about the meaning of the ink. Scars inflicted by the things that she hunts damaged her tanned skin, but don’t take away her beauty. In fact, it adds to it, because before him stands a kick ass woman, a powerhouse.

     Zoë grins when she witnesses the adoration in Dean's expression, walks up to him and kisses him eagerly. The fire in the pit of his stomach turns into a blaze again, his respiration soon quickening. Not having much clothing to pull off her body, he helps her unbutton his flannel without breaking their kiss. When she rips off the shirt, he can hear the stitching crack, but he doesn’t give a damn. His hands trace the lines of her figure, brushing past what seems to be a burn on her shoulder. When he touches it, she winces slightly.      “Where you get that?” he wonders, a hint of worry in his voice.      She shrugs. “Shifter tried to shoot me again. It’s fine, the bullet barely grazed me.”      Dean, not so careless, lets his eyes linger on the damaged skin, before he reaches for her face and caresses her jaw softly.      “I’m fine,” Zoë promises, smiling at the concern in his eyes.

     The huntress closes the gap between them and presses her lips on his again, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. She folds her arms around his neck and he lifts her up, the strain of his shoulder reminding him of his own injury. She giggles lasciviously and hooks her long legs around his waist, as he walks over to the waterbed and drops her on it a moment later. He hovers over her and kisses her pulsepoint, the moan that escapes her total blasphemy.       “It’s your turn, remember,” she purrs.      Impatient, the huntress attempts to shove his jeans down, tracing the hem of his boxers, but he stops her.      “Who says I was done with you?” Dean teases, leaving a trail of kisses from her breasts to her stomach, before he retreats.      Zoë pouts. “Don’t pull back now.”      “I have a little something to make this even more interesting,” he says with that up-to-no-good smirk on his face, his eyebrow arched.

     He slides off the bed and walks to the table, where he unravels the gift basket he received downstairs. Smirking he turns around and shows off the handcuffs, twirling them around his finger.      “You have a dirty mind, boy,” she says pleased, liking where this is going.      He crawls back on the bed, which waves like a light swell at sea, and while he leans over her, he gently grabs her wrists and cuffs them behind the steel bars of the bed. Then he sits up and looks at her naked form.      “No, I just have a very bright mind,” he corrects.      “Whatever you want, Dean. I’m all yours tonight.” She pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth, spreading her legs and leaving nothing to the imagination.      “You sure are.”

     He leans in again, but instead of kissing her, he takes the gun from under his pillow. Startled Zoë tries to sit up in her restraints, unpleasantly surprised by the sudden change of character.      “What the fuck are you doing?” she asks, concerned.      Dean gets off the bed and casually leaves his gun on the table, buttoning his jeans again and fastening his belt. He then proceeds to walk to his duffel bag, from which he takes a silencer. Slowly, he strolls towards the bed again as he screws it on.      “I’m hunting,” he answers, as a matter of factly.      “What are you talking about? It’s me, God damn it!” She tries to convince him, a hint of panic in her voice.      “Yeah, about that. Zoë, right? I have to say, good impression.” He admits. “You almost had me. It wasn’t until you got out of that robe when I noticed you missed a tiny little detail.”      They stare each other in the eye, him confident, her nervous, waiting for the other to say something. When the silence remains, Dean takes the lead.      “You shot her, you son of a bitch,” he brings to mind, anger thick in his voice.

     It’s just now that the person - or rather, the creature - in bed realizes what is going on. Stammering, she looks at Dean. The injury Zoë was left with after last night’s events is nowhere to be seen. Yet a bullet, probably coming from either her or Sam’s gun, has grazed its shoulder.      “Ah, you forgot about that, didn’t you?” He chuckles triumphantly, aiming the gun.      “No! Wait, Dean! I can explain--”       “- I bet you can.”

     A dim shot followed by complete silence, ending the life of the shifter once and for all. Dean breathes out and stares at the entry wound in its chest, where he sent the bullet right through the heart. He swallows thickly, because the resemblance with Zoë is uncanny.       He twists the muffler from his gun and tugs the weapon behind his belt, quickly picking up his shirt from the floor. After pulling it over his head, he checks his phone. The list of calls shows none unanswered; Sam didn’t call. He grunts, realizing that his little brother is probably in trouble, and Zoë, too. He has to find them, for all he knows they could be dead. Fuck! This case wasn’t even supposed to be our case! 

    Pondering, he rubs his face, worried about his little brother. He has to keep it together; now is not the time to lose his cool. Think, Dean. He looks around, his gaze lingering once it captures Sam’s computer. The hunter stalks towards the laptop, moving his fingertip over the mousepad to activate the screen. 'Completed', it says.      “Completed what?” Dean wonders out loud, frustrated.      Goddamnit! Why did he get caught up in his anger? He should have tried to get that bastard to give up the location of his hideout. Now he has nothing! 

     Dean scans the screen, noticing a pop up asking if he wants to open the downloaded file. He double clicks ‘Yes’. A PDF file opens and a blueprint of the entire area fills the screen. He reads the title; it’s a map of the city’s sewer system. Sam apparently was trying to find out from which house or drainage the shapeshifter was working. He remembers his brother saying his hideout must be somewhere on 110th Ave NW, but that’s a damn long street. He sighs angrily; how the hell is he gonna find them?

     Then he spots something unusual. A red sewer line follows the street, running from the main sewer all the way up to a house, far from the main road. When he reads the marginal note, he learns that the particular sewer line was put in the ground this year. Suspicious? Could be, most houses so far off the main roads have their own tanks. And wait a minute, isn't this the same place they checked out last night? He was quite sure it was clean, apparently they missed something. It’s not much, but it is the only lead he has right now. He closes the laptop, grabs his leather coat and rushes to the cabinet to grab his keys...      “Fuck!” he roars.

     How could he forget? Sam has the keys. Sam has the fucking car! He runs his fingers through his hair and curses again. He has to steal another vehicle, he’s got no other option. Then his eyes capture the shifter, lying naked and dead on the bed, blood leaking from the chest wound. Let’s rephrase that question; how did that filthy lizard get here? In three strides Dean is at the window and shoves the curtains aside. Relieved, he breathes out. The hunter wouldn’t have thought so last night, but he’s damn glad to see that shiny black Harley Davidson, with the keys still in the ignition, waiting for him underneath the window. 

     Dean opens the lid and climbs out, not wanting to be seen by staff in the lobby. Skillfully the hunter descents down the old fire escape and lands on the ground with both feet, bending his knees to cushion the landing.       The Harley is a sight for sore eyes, especially now that it’s his only available form of transportation. He starts the engine, the headlight spreading a bright light ahead. The bike is heavy, it surprises him how Zoë is able to handle the cruiser so easily. One thing is certain, he realizes, as he gasses up and leaves the parking lot; he better not fuck up this bike. Because Zoë will either kill him or haunt him, depending if she’s still alive or not.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part ten here

The Sullivan Series tags: @a-gir1-has-n0-name​​​​ @destielhoneybee​​​​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​​​​ @idksupernatural​​​​ @laphirablack​​​​ @magssteenkamp​​​​

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[beanie-on-a-string]

Dark Crystal AOR Modern Au Headcanons

Rian

So like

I’ve said this before but

V-necks everywhere. Also flannels. He likes flannels. And on an especially good day... flannel on top of v-neck.

He’s like... average height, maybe a little taller

His dad put him in fencing when he was super teeny and now he loves it and is really good

Also just a side note but MIRA IS NOT DEAD IN THIS AU SHE JUST HAD TO MOVE AWAY OK

They’re not dating anymore but they’re still friends and keep in contact

Anyway

He’s just a smartass. This guy won’t keep his mouth shut.

This guy takes amazing care of his hair. Like, it’s not even funny how well cared for his hair is

But sometimes you wonder if there’s a brain under that hair of his

Once he considered dyeing his whole head blue like the color of his streaks and Gurjin was like “...dude no”

Picky eater

Is in love with Deet and it shows

Is also convinced that she doesn’t like him that way

Has tried a man bun once. Does not like it.

Will let Deet certain people braid his hair

Very tactile when you get to know him

Even when he’s just met you he’s a little more tactile than the average person

Gurjin

HOODIES

Out of him and Rian he’s the one that usually holds the braincell

Always keeping Rian from making stupid decisions

He and his sister both had dreads

Pretty tall

He used to fence with Rian but didn’t really enjoy it

He used to swim on the side but now it’s his main sport

Man buns man buns man buns

Rian is confused on how he can stand them

“They HURT though”

Mom friend

Shakes his head at everything

A lot of the time he gets pulled into situations he doesn’t really know about, but he helps his friends no matter what

Keeps trying to tell Rian it’s obvious Deet likes him but the attempts are ignored

Him and Brea are trying to get them to realize it but it’s sO HARD

Can cook

Brea

Obviously keeps a diary

Denies being a good artist

Also she’s one of those people that has so many books on her bedside table that they look like they’re going to fall any second

She wears knee-high socks and is into pastels

Headbands and ribbons

She can and will give everybody hugs all the time

Bakes a lot

Her and Gurjin will usually provide food

Gurjin and Brea just have a great friendship ok

Looks cute but she could really kick your ass if she wanted to

Laughs at everything

Kylan is teaching her the flute

She’s close with Kylan but at this point she only likes him as a friend and is oblivious to his huge crush on her

When she helps Deet garden, she complains about getting dirty but does it anyway

Has a vendetta against pigeons

Sometimes it feels like she never sleeps

Just a little shorter than average height

She can be surprisingly dirty minded at times and everone will be like “ *gasp* BREA” but Rian would be in the corner snickering

Seladon

Moody ™️

Great at makeup

ROCKS BLACK LIPSTICK FIGHT ME

There was a phase when she acted out and acted rude and selfish towards Brea, Tavra, and their mom but looking back on it she realized she was a butt and is trying to improve

Will sometimes help others with makeup if they need it

Goes all out at Halloween and everyone always loves her costume

Doesn’t like when other people touch her

Awkward hugger

She’s, like, the top of her class

Queen of sarcasm

She’s insecure about herself but Tavra always supports her

Has a soft spot for Tavra

Gets discouraged very easily

Morning person

Does ballet and wants to dance professionally

Deet

Deet is pretty short compared to the others

Everyone always uses her as an armrest and surprisingly she’s fine with it

She’s newer to the group but everyone just fell in love with her like effective immediately

Now it’s like she’s been there all along

Also tactile (but not as much as Rian)

She wears overalls a lot

Gardening is her passion

Dirt under her nails all the time, which annoys Gurjin and Seladon to death

Smells like flowers

Everyone loves her baby brother

He can be a bit of a gremlin though

She loves hats

Sunhats when she gardens

She’s, like, the sweetest person

Absolute cinnamon roll

The entire group agrees that they must protect her at all costs

Can be savage on accident

Will send memes to everyone at ungodly hours

“Deet it’s 2 am why are you still up”

Also vegan

Loves animals and doesn’t understand why Brea hates pigeons so much

Fell HARD for Rian

Kissed him on the cheek once but he thought it was because they were good friends

Loves to braid Rian’s hair

Also fun fact but her dads are 100% the people to say “if you don’t have something nice to say then don’t say anything at all”

But Deet always has something nice to say so she’s good

Tavra

Chugs Respect Woman Juice ™️

Her and Onica have like the cutest relationship ever

She’s like the cool aunt

Does martial arts and will not be afraid to kick your face off

Would do anything for her sisters

Is always disappearing to places with Onica

By now everyone’s used to it

Can see into your soul

People always go to her to talk/rant because she always listens and gives good advice

Sticks up for Seladon no matter what

Kylan

Music prodigy

He has a humongous crush on Brea

Wears polo shirts

Flautist flautist flautist

The only thing he can make is soup

And he’s good at soup

Everyone loves his soup

Quieter than most of the others

Kids love him

Astronomy buff

Also loves folk tales and mythology

Meditates

Brings his flute everywhere. Sometimes it looks like he has no space to even old his keys but WHOOP there’s the flute where did he even-

Believes very strongly in the supernatural

Naia

General badassery

Tall like Gurjin

Also a swimmer

Skeptical and always questions Kylan

Does not give a damn what you think

Leather jackets

When she laughs she laughs LOUD

Doesn’t realize how STRONG she is

Muscles for days

Eats like a monster

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Bloody Mary (1.05)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: An old classic rears its ugly head, Dean kicks into big brother overdrive mode, Sam and Olive each deal with hard truths

Warnings: Mentions of death, cursing, crying, blood, very brief mention of like kidnap/non-con or whatever you interpret it as. not specific but could definitely be seen at that, etc

Word Count: 6696

“Sams, wake up.” I shook the writhing boy.

He shot out of his sleep. He sat up and looked around before sighing. We had been in the hospital parking lot for the last fifteen minutes, and Sam’s nightmare persisted.

“I take it I was having a nightmare.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, another one.”

Sam shrugged. “Hey, at least I got some sleep.”

Dean and I shared a look and I turned to face Sam. “You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.”

Sam ignored me. “Are we here?”

��Yup.” Dean popped the ��p’ “Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

Sam picked the newspaper out of my lap and read over the obituary of Steven Shoemaker.

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?”

I grinned. “That's what we're gonna find out. Let's go.”

I pushed Dean, and he grunted, pulling himself out of the car. I followed, and Sam got out too. We smiled at each other before heading into the hospital.

                                                             ***

“Alright, room 114.” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets.

I pointed to the door labeled MORGUE. Dean grinned proudly and Sam ruffled my hair as he passed by, leading us in. There were two desks, the empty one with a name plate labeled Dr. D. Feiklowicz. There was a man at the other desk. He was bald and his eyes were creepily settled on us, eyebrow quirked as we walked in.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. We're the, uh… med students.” He bullshitted through a smile.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, Doctor… Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.” He gestured to Sam and I.

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.”

“Oh well he said, uh… oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?” Dean grinned.

The tech shook his head. “Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.” He shrugged.

“An hour? Ooh.” Dean sucked in air through his teeth. “We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.”

“Yeah.” Sam added.

“Uh, this paper’s worth over half my grade, so if you wouldn’t mind just helping us out?” I smiled.

“Uh, no.” The guy mocked my tone, tilting his head at me.

Dean laughed a bit, then turned around, grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me with.

“I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear.” He was still smiling, and his tone was kind.

I shot Sam my version of a puppy look, and he sighed, hitting Dean’s arm. He fished his wallet out of his pocket, and stepped ahead of us, laying down at least five twenties on the tech’s desk. The tech eyed the money, then pocketed it, getting up and plastering on a smile.

“Follow me.”

I followed, arms crossed over my chest. Sam and Dean didn’t follow, and I let out a long sigh.

“You sure you’re a college student?” The tech stopped in his tracks.

“Yeah. I graduated high school early. I’m seventeen.”

“You must be smart.” His gaze became predatory and he took a step closer, eyes at my chest. “A little more skin would’ve gotten you what you wanted. Didn’t need a hundred bucks. And what are they? Your boyfriends?”

“She’s my little sister.” Sam appeared, stepping in front of me.

I had never felt so thankful for the boy’s towering height until now. The tech only swallowed and walked us back into the morgue.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Dean shook as at my other side.

The tech pulled the sheet over Shoemaker’s face. I grimaced as the stench of death reached my nose. Sam noticed, and pulled me into his side.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.”

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean suggested.

The tech shook his head. “Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.”

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam asked, arm locked around my shoulders.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.”

Sam and I looked at each other, and he spoke for me.

“What do you mean?”

“Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.” He seemed gleeful.

“The… the eyes. What could’ve caused something like that?” I asked.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” He shrugged again.

Dean snorted. “Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?”

The tech squirmed. “That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not a doctor.”

Dean and I looked at each other, and he nodded. I wanted the police report. He would be able to get it.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know, for uh… our paper.” Dean inched forward.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” The tech grinned, and it was disgusting.

Sam scoffed and began to pull out his wallet, but I tapped his arm. I popped to my toes and grabbed the tech by the shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Pretty please or your boss can find out how you tried to get into a seventeen year old’s pants and then my tall ass brother can beat the shit out of you.” I whispered with a smile.

I could feel Dean’s obnoxious, again prideful, smile. Sam pulled me back by the shoulders and tucked me under his arms. He smiled, hand on his hip. Dean grinned, and it was endearing. The tech’s shoulders fell.

                                                            ***

“Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.” Sam offered as we walked down the stairs.

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean arched an eyebrow.

Sam was defeated. “Uh, almost never.”

Dean grinned. “Exactly.”

“Alright, let's go talk to the daughter.” I tugged Sam’s arm.

                                                            ***

“Feel like we're underdressed.” Dean whispered.

Everyone was wearing black suits and dresses, and the three of us stood in a canvas jacket, a leather jacket, and a flannel. Sam rolled his eyes and forced us to keep moving. We walked through the house, into the backyard.

“I’m sorry, have you seen Donna?” Sam asked a man who was taking a sip of his drink.

The man only pointed to a group of four girls. Two looked alike, and sort of like Shoemaker. Dean took the lead as we walked toward them.

“You must be Donna, right?”

“Yeah.” She looked up, eyeing us.

“Hi, uh… we’re really sorry.” Sam offered a polite smile. 

“Thank you.”

“I'm Sam, this is Olive, and that’s Dean. We worked with your dad.”

Donna looked to her friend, then back to Sam, and then to me.

“I’m an intern.” I piped up.

“You really worked with my dad?” She asked.

Dean stepped in with a nod. “Yeah. This whole thing…” Dean shook his head. “I mean, a stroke.”

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now.” Her friend cut in, trying to defend her.

Donna shook her head, hand on her friend’s arm. “It's okay. I'm okay.”

Dean’s demeanor softened. “Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?”

Donna shook her head. “No.”

The younger girl turned around, pouting. “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

Sam and I perked up.

“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna chided.

“What?” Sam tilted his head.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna tried to brush it off, but Lily persisted. 

“No, it happened because of me.”

“Sweetie, it didn't.” Donna shook her head again.

“Lily?” Sam came down on one knee, now eye level with the girl. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Right before he died, I said it.” She whimpered.

Sam looked at me and I bent by his side.

“You said what?”

She looked up at me. She couldn’t have been any older than twelve, and I felt a sense of panic spark in me. Is this what I would be like if we didn’t find Dad? Sitting with my brothers and blaming myself?

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” She paused, then looked back to Sam, desperate for belief. “She took his eyes, that's what she does.”

Donna dismissed it once more. “That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.”

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean came to our side and squatted too.

Lily shook her head. “No, I don't think so.”

                                                            ***

My hand went for the door handle, and Sam stopped me, pushing me back into Dean as he opened the door instead. I peered under his shoulder to see dried blood on the floor. I grimaced.

“The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?” Sam called back over his shoulder.

Dean and I looked at each other, and I shook my head. “Not that we know of.”

We followed Sam into the bathroom, and he stooped down, touching the blood.

“I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.” I shrugged.

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean opened the medicine cabinet and fiddled with the things inside.

“The place where the legend began?” I pushed myself up to sit on the sink.

Sam stood up. “But according to the legend, the person who says B-” He cut himself off, realizing he was facing the mirror. He shut it, then turned around, leaning against the sink, by my side.

“The person who says you know what gets it. But here…”

Dean nodded. “Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah.”

I nodded too. “Right. De?”

Dean shook his head. “Never heard anything like that before.”

“Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” I mimicked the motion, fingers going for Dean’s face.

He smacked my hand away with a playful roll of the eyes, and Sam laughed before becoming serious once more.

“It's worth checking in to. Come on, down.” Sam held a hand out and I grabbed it, squirming off the counter and onto my feet.

Dean led the way out of the bathroom and down the hall.

“What are you doing up here?” The girl from earlier was in front of us, and Dean tucked me between himself and Sam.

“We… we uh, had to go to the bathroom.” Dean stumbled on his words.

“Who are you?” Her eyes narrowed, and Sam’s hand came to my shoulder.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with  Donna's dad.”

She shook her head. “He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.”

“No, I know, we meant-”

“And he didn’t have interns.” She looked at me. “And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Alright, alright. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” I broke.

“Yeah, a stroke.”

I shook my head. “That's not what a stroke looks like. We think it might be something else.”

She was taken aback. “Like what?”

Sam shrugged. “Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.”

“So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” Dean wasn’t impressed.

“Who are you, cops?”

Sam and I looked up at Dean.

“Something like that.”

“I'll tell you what. Here.” I picked a paper out of Sam’s pocket, and he handed me a pen.

I scribbled my phone number down, followed by Dean’s and gave it to her.

“If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary… just give us a call.” I offered a polite smile before Dean walked us down the hall, Sam’s hand never leaving my shoulder.

                                                            ***

“Alright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof. Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean spoke as we walked through the library doors.

“Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.” Sam smiled at a librarian as he spoke.

“Alright, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asked.

“Well every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” I explained.

Dean’s lips curled back into a snarl. “Well that sounds annoying.”

Sam and I smiled. “Nah, it won't be so bad, as long as we-” Sam cut himself off I followed his line of sight, met with computers stamped with Out of Order signs on them. I sighed, and Sam let out a chuckle.

“He takes it back. This is gonna be super fucking annoying.”

                                                            ***

“Why’d you let me fall asleep?” Sam’s voice was weak and crackly, and his eyes were still half shut.

I ran a hand through his hair. I had my legs propped up on the library table, which was cluttered with public records. Sam had slumped into my lap a few hours earlier, and Dean wouldn’t let me wake him.

“‘Cause I’m an awesome brother and Olive can’t stop me. So, what’d you dream about?”

Sam looked up at me and smiled as I ruffled his hair. “Lollipops and candy canes.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

I picked up a pen and flung it at Dean, glaring at him. Sam scoffed from his spot on my lap and looked back up at me.

“You guys find anything, bug?”

I shook my head, and Dean spoke.

“Besides a whole new level of frustration?”

Sam went to sit up and I pouted. He dropped his head back against my lap as Dean flipped through papers.

“No. We’ve looked at everything. A Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, uh-”

“A giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave.” I shrugged. “But no Mary.”

Sam groaned. “Maybe we just haven’t found it yet.”

“I’ve got Dean searching for strange deaths in the area. Ya know, eyeball bleeding, that sorta shit. There’s nothing.”

Dean shook his head. “Whatever’s happening here… maybe it just ain’t Mary.”

Sam’s phone rang before anybody could say anything else, and he fished it out of his pocket before putting it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

I couldn’t hear who was calling, but Sam sat up, a look of concern painted across his gentle face.

                                                            ***

“And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her… her eyes. They were gone.” Charlie sobbed, and I reached for her hand, feeling awful.

She took it as I looked over my shoulder at Dean. His eyebrow was arched, but he said nothing, balancing on the back of the bench. I shifted my attention to Sam, who looked pitiful.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, hands in his pockets as he stood in front of us.

“And she said it.” Charlie looked to me, and I maintained eye contact, feeling the boys look at each other. “I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She cried again.

“No.” I shook my head and squeezed her hand. “Charlie, no, you’re not insane.”

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” She whimpered.

“Look.” Sam was, as always, gentle but firm. “We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.”

“We’re gonna stop it. But we could use your help.” I looked at her.

                                                            ***

Charlie opened the window, and I jumped in before Sam and Dean, taking the duffle bag and dropping it on the floor. Sam crawled in after me, and Dean came last.

“What did you tell Jill's mom?” Sam asked as I began to pull out the gear we needed.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.”

I handed Sam the camera as Dean shut the curtains. Charlie shivered.

“I hate lying to her.”

“Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights.” Dean’s tone was, again, kind.

Charlie turned the lights off. “What are you guys looking for?”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we find it.”

Sam continued to fumble with the camera and sighed before tossing it to Dean. “Hey, night vision.”

Dean clicked a button and handed it back to Sam.

“Perfect, thanks.” The taller boy mumbled as he aimed the camera.

Dean pursed his lips and puffed himself up, turning his back to the camera and looking over his shoulder. “Do I look like Paris Hilton?”

I giggled as Sam rolled his eyes, moving to Jill’s closet door. Dean pulled out his EMF meter and paced around the room. I crept into the bathroom, trying to stay within Sam’s reach just in case.

“So… I don't get it.”

Dean looked at me and I rolled my eyes. Whenever I said that, he thought I meant I didn’t understand what was happening.

“What I mean is the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?”

Dean turned away. “Beats me. I wanna know why Jill said it in the first place.” Dean scoffed.

“It’s just a joke.” Charlie defended, and Sam moved my way as Dean continued.

“Anything, bug?” He asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing obvious.” When I hunted with Dean, I was in Sam’s place, but now I didn’t know what to do.

“Alright, c’mere and help me.” Sam pulled me under his arm as he shuffled into the bathroom, camera up. He ran it around the mirror, and I saw a trickle down the wall.

“Look.” I pointed.

He squinted. “Hey.” He called to Dean. “There’s a blacklight in the trunk, right?”

Dean scrambled out the window as I took the camera from Sam. He pulled the mirror off, setting it face down on the bed. Dean came back in and threw the blacklight our way. I caught it with fumbling hands and held it as Dean closed the curtains again. Sam peeled the brown paper off the back of the mirror, and I clicked the blacklight on before handing it to him.

There was a handprint, and bloody letters spelled out Gary Bryman.

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie read, confused.

“You know who that is?” I asked.

She looked up at me and shook her head. “No.”

She sighed and Sam and I looked at each other, then to Dean, eyes wide.

                                                            ***

“So, Gary Bryman was an eight year old. Killed two years ago in a hit and run.” I spoke to Dean and Charlie as Sam and I came up from behind.

“The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.” Sam sat down and I leaned against him.

“Oh my god.” Charlie’s eyes widened.

Sam and I looked at each other. “What?”

“Jill drove that car.”

Dean seemed exasperated. “We need to get back to your friend Donna's house.”

                                                            ***

“Linda Shoemaker.” I read, sighing as the handprint lit up next to the name.

Sam looked up at me, and we looked at Dean. He sighed.

“Shoemaker killed his wife.”

I shrugged. “Or knew something about her death.”

“Either way.” Sam shrugged and got up.

We followed him downstairs.

“Donna, do you know a Linda Shoemaker by chance?” Sam asked.

“Why are you asking me this?” She squinted.

“Look, we're sorry, but it's important.” Sam pressed.

Donna sighed, but spoke as Charlie nodded at her. “Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it.” Charlie’s eyes widened, and the boys and I looked at each other. “I think you should leave.”

Dean put a hand out. “Now Donna, just listen.”

“Just get out of my house!” She pushed past Dean and around the stairs.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest.

“Maybe.” Sam tilted his head.

“I think I should stick around.” Charlie winced.

Sam nodded, and Dean sighed. “Alright. Just whatever you do, don’t…” Dean made a face.

“Believe me, I won’t say it.” She shook her head.

                                                            ***

I was running through the records again, sitting next to Dean, slumped against his arm as he stared at the laptop, mouth set into a pout and eyes wide and focused.

“Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” Sam turned from the papers tacked onto the wall to us.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database. At this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean’s eyes remained strangely wide.

“But, De, if she’s haunting the town, she should’ve died in the town.” I looked up from the papers in my lap.

“I'm telling you, sweetie, there's nothing local, we’ve checked. So unless you two got a better idea…”

“The way Mary’s choosing her victims, it seems like there’s a pattern.” Sam scratched his head.

“I know, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean looked to him.

“With Shoemaker, and Jill’s hit and run,” I started

“Both had secrets where people died.” Dean caught on with a nod.

“Yeah. I mean, there’s a lot of folklore about mirrors. That, that they reveal all your lies, your secrets, that they’re a true reflection of your soul, which is why it’s bad luck to break them.” I rubbed my eyes.

Dean took his arm back and threw it around me. “Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.”

“Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.” Sam concluded.

Dean turned back to the computer. “Take a look at this.”

There was a picture of a woman lying in front of a mirror, in a puddle of blood. I wrinkled my nose and sighed through my nose.

Dean printed two pictures, and Sam took the first one. I grabbed the second, sighing. It was a handprint, the letters Tre by the side. I got out of my seat and pushed at Sam’s arm. He moved it and let me drop into his lap, putting the picture side-by-side with the ones we had taken of Jill’s and the Shoemaker’s mirror.

“Looks like the same handprint.” He nodded.

“Yeah, her name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.” Dean looked at us with lips pursed and eyebrows raised.

                                                            ***

“Why do I have to stay?” I pouted.

“Because you still have to go to school. We’ll be back before school lets out, promise.” Dean patted my head.

I scowled and ducked away from his hand, glaring at Sam. “This isn’t fair.”

“Bug, come on. We all grew up like this.”

“Yeah, but before I had at least one of you! Now you’re just gonna leave me here in Toledo while you guys drive all the way to Indiana?” I gestured with my hands.

“Sweetpea, it’s only two hours. You’ll be okay.” Dean put his arms in his pockets and I stomped my foot, feeling like a child.

“Sammy, what if something happens?” I turned to him.

“Sweetheart, you can handle yourself. It’ll be okay.” Dean reassured.

I groaned, then looked over my shoulder at the high school. I turned back to my brothers and sighed. “Can’t believe you guys.”

“Alright, hey, bug, look at me. We’ll be back before you know it. I promise.” Sam held his pinky finger out for mine. I sighed before hooking them together.

“Anything happens, you call me. Okay? We’ll turn right around. Dean’s driving, so we’ll be back, quick.” He kissed the top of my head.

I closed my eyes and sighed again. I wasn’t keen on being separate from my brothers. Elementary school had been the worst, because Dean was in high school, and Sam was in middle school. When I got up to middle school, Dean was already out, and he was the one to drop me off and pick me up, and if he couldn’t, Sam could sneak out of high school to come get me. But now, in high school, alone? It was like being five all over again.

“We promise. Everything’s gonna be okay. Alright? We love you. Be good.” Dean kissed my forehead.

I hugged him, then kissed his cheek. He winked at me and I hugged Sam, sighing.

“It’s gonna be alright, bug. I promise.” He stressed.

I rolled my eyes and kissed his cheek. “Love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

                                                            ***

I sighed as the bell rang. I had skipped out on my art class, because Donna was in it and she gave me a lethal glare the moment I walked in. I was hiding in the bathroom, propped up on the toilet, balanced on my feet. I had my head in my hands. Being apart from the boys was stressing me out more than I had anticipated, especially with Dad being gone. I was beginning to think that Dean and I, and after Jessica’s death, maybe Sam too, were dangerously codependent. Not that any of us had addictions or an awful mental health, but we literally could not stand to be apart, and without each other, we all fell apart.

“I mean, you bring these strangers into my house and they ask me things like that?” I heard Donna, and I winced.

“They were only trying to help. Please, Donna, you have to believe me.” Charlie followed.

“What? About Bloody Mary?” Donna hissed.

“Please, I know it sounds crazy-”

“Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it! I mean, it’s one thing for Lily to believe this shit, she’s twelve. But you?”

“Think about the way your dad died, okay? And the way Jill died.” Charlie pleaded.

“Okay, so. Bloody Mary.”

I dug my face into my hands and tried to stifle a groan. Chances were, that if I stepped out to stop Donna, she would sock me in the face.

“No!” Charlie tried.

“Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” She finished, and another pause followed. “See? Nothing happened.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie whimpered. “Why would you do that?”

“Jesus Christ. There really is something wrong with you.” Donna scoffed before storming out.

I bounded out of the stall, running straight into Charlie.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

“She’s gonna kill someone with a secret.” I panted, looking anywhere but the mirror. “Just have to make sure we don’t look at anything with a reflection.”

“You’re scared. Oh my God, you have a secret!” She shouted.

“Charlie, please!” I shushed her, dragging her out of the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you not telling me?”

I sighed, closing my eyes as we stood against the lockers.

“When I was twelve… Sam was at school, Dean and my dad were at work.” I swallowed. “There was a guy. H-he-he was probably in his thirties. I was walking back from the laundromat, and…” I whimpered.

“I’m sorry.”

“I fought back before he could do anything, and I kicked him in the head. I didn’t mean to kick as hard as I did, and… he died. I ran home, and I never said anything to anyone until now.” I shuddered.

“I’m so sorry, Olive.” She frowned.

I shook my head to clear it, then grabbed her by the arm again. “It’s fine. I’m fine. We just have to wait for my brothers to come back. They’ll stop this.”

                                                            ***

“Elements that lose electrons become positive ions, which are smaller than other atoms of the same element.”

I rolled my eyes. Chemistry was the worst science class I had ever taken. The teacher kept going, and I took off my glasses, cleaning them. I rubbed my eyes before putting the glasses back on. They were now clean, and the reflections were clear. May was standing behind me, covered in blood. I ripped the glasses off, letting them slam onto the desk. Charlie screamed from the row beside me, and she threw a compac at the ground.

“Shit.” I hissed, getting up as she sprang from her seat.

The other students backed away from her, and the teacher shouted her name. She stopped in front of the window, and I caught Mary’s reflection, albeit a tad fuzzy, along with everything else. Charlie stood, frozen. I picked up her stool and threw it through the window, breaking Mary’s reflection.

“Miss Winchester!” The teacher shouted at me now.

Charlie ran, and he grabbed her. I ran to my desk, grabbing my phone, my glasses, and my journal.

“Charlie, stop it! What’s wrong? Just calm down!” He ordered, but she looked at his glasses and screamed again.

“Let me go!” She tried to escape his grip.

“Fuck.” I growled, hitting his wrists until his grip loosened.

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along with me as she continued to scream.

                                                            ***

“Sam!” I shouted, crying.

“Bug? Babes, what’s wrong?”

“She said it. Donna said it.” My eyes were burning.

“Shit. Are you okay? Where are you?”

There was a rush of air, and my breathing evened a bit when I heard Dean’s gruff voice.

“Sweetpea, what happened?”

“Donna said it, and Mary came after me and Charlie.”

“Son of a bitch. Where are you?”

“Motel room. Broke all the mirrors I could find, shoved my glasses under a pillow. Don’t know if I got them all. De, I’m scared.” I whimpered.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m giving you back to Sam. We’re almost home, promise. Just keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

“Bug, we’ll be there in ten, okay? Make sure Charlie keeps her eyes closed too.”

I nodded. “She’s right next to me.” I squeezed her hand. We hadn’t let go of each other since we ran out of school.

“Okay. It’s gonna be okay, ug. I swear.”

“Sams, I’m scared.”

“I know, honey. But it’s gonna be okay. I promise you.”

“Sammy?”

“What is it, bug?”

“Can you stay?”

“Of course I can, baby girl.”

                                                            ***

“Ollie, we’re coming in.” I heard Sam and I let out a strangled cry.

The door clicked open, and I was pulled up. I wrapped myself around Sam and cried, burying my head into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’re here now, bug. It’s okay. I promise.”

“Sammy, help me out here.” Dean called him.

“No! Sams, please.” I tightened my arms.

“Bug, he can’t reach the last mirror. Here, he’ll take you.”

Before I could protest, I was shifted off and sat in Dean’s lap.

“S’okay. Promise.” Dean whispered.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Hey. You guys can open your eyes now.” Sam whispered, kneeling by the side of the bed.

I slowly opened my eyes and pulled back. Dean’s freckled face was visible in the dark. Sam’s hand came to my back and I squirmed away from Dean, throwing myself at Sam. He caught me against his side with a grunt. He pulled me up and sat on the other side of the bed.

“Now, listen. You two are gonna stay right here on this bed. And you’re not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay?” Sam instructed, rubbing my back. “As long as you do that, she can not get to you.”

There was a long pause, and I buried my head into Sam’s neck, again closing my eyes.

“But I can’t keep that up forever.” Charlie broke the silence. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” Sam shook his head.

“Alright, Charlie. We need to know what happened.” Dean’s voice was gentle, and I couldn’t help but look up at him.

“It’s like Olive told you. We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” She whimpered.

Sam sighed, arms tightening around me.

“That’s not what we’re talking about. Something happened, didn’t it? In your life… a secret. Where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” Dean coaxed.

Charlie began to cry, and the boys looked at each other. “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?” Her breaths were shuddered. “And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.’” Her voice cracked, and Dean looked to Sam. “And you know what I said? I said ‘Go ahead.’ And I left.” She whimpered. “How could I say that? How could I leave him like that?” She looked to Dean, and then Sam. “ I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She buried her face back into her knees and began to cry once more.

There was a long pause, and then Sam looked down at me. I began to cry, and I ducked my head back into his shoulder.

“Bug.” He whispered.

“No.” I whined.

“Bug, look at me.”

“No, Sams. Your eyes always have a reflection in them.” I whispered.

He sighed, then stuck his mouth by my ear. “Okay. Then talk to me.”

I shook my head, crying.

“Bug, please.”

“No, Sams.” I repeated.

“Baby girl, please. Whatever you did, I’m not upset with you. Dean won’t be upset either. Right?”

“Of course not.” I felt the bed dip as Dean moved next to me.

I cried, shaking my head.

“Bug. Please.” Sam whispered.

“Promise.” I whispered.

“Swear on my mother’s grave.” Dean’s voice was soft.

I looked up at him, then put my head back down, again crying.

“Babes. Please.” Sam cooed.

I sighed, letting my breathing even out. “It was the year after you left.” I whimpered.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Just tell us what happened.”

“De, y-you and Dad w-w-w-were on a hunt.”

“Shh shh shh.” Sam rubbed my back.

“And I went to do laundry. And when I went back to the motel, this guy trapped me in an alleyway.” I sniveled.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Dean’s hand came to the back of my head and I could feel the anger in his blood.

I shook my head. “I fought back, De. I fought as hard as I could, b-but…”

“Bug. It’s okay. Keep going.” Sam cooed again.

“I kicked him in the head, and I didn’t mean to, Sams, but I-I killed him.” I bawled. “I’m sorry!”

I felt the boys looking at each other, and Dean pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “It’s okay. We’re not upset.”

“Babes, we’re gonna go stop her. Okay?” Sam whispered, and Dean gave my head another kiss before getting up.

“No.” I shook my head, clinging to Sam. “No, Sams, please, please, please don’t leave me, not again.” I whined.

He shushed me again. “Baby girl, I have to. I have to stop her, so we can save you.”

“Sams, please.” I cried.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Hey, hey, okay.” I felt Dean pull me off and sit me down. “Listen to me.”

I sniffled and tried to stop crying. Dean cradled my face in his hands, wiping my tears away. Sam smoothed my hair back, and Dean’s calloused thumb ran over my cheek. I calmed down, breathing through my mouth.

“We’re gonna save you. We’ll be back before you know it. I promise. You’re gonna be okay. Okay?”

I sighed before nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay. Stay here. Anything happens, you call. Alright?” Dean murmured.

I nodded again. “I love you guys.”

A kiss to the forehead and another to the top of my head.

“We love you too, Ol.”

                                                            ***

“Sam, how the fuck are you gonna get her to come out?” I asked.

I had called them as soon as I noticed the flaw in their plan.

“Don’t worry about it, bug.” I heard him lower his voice. “Come on. Come into this one.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sam! You summoned her, didn’t you?”

“It’s your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica.” The second voice, almost Sam’s voice, but not quite, came.

“Sam?”

The phone thudded, and he grunted. I heard a metallic crash, and I panicked.

“Sam!”

“You never told her the truth! Who you really were!” A loud crash followed, and Sam was gasping.

“Sams.” I whimpered.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it? Those nightmares you’ve been having of Jessica dying. Screaming! Burning! You had them for days before she died! Didn’t you?”

I whimpered, throwing my head back against the headboard. “Sammy, please.”

“You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die! You dreamt it would happen!”

There was a smashing of glass, and the voice disappeared.

“Sam! Sammy!” Dean was on the other side now.

“It’s Sam.”

“God, are you okay?”

I sighed. “Boys!”

“Ol. Jesus, you really can’t be apart from us, can you?” Dean picked up the phone and chuckled.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew how to get her. Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Come on, come on.”

There was another thud, and Dean hissed.

“Boys!”

There was no response.

“You killed them! All those people! You killed them!” It was a girl’s voice, and there was choking and another shatter of glass.

“Boys?”

“We’re okay. Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“This has gotta be like… what? Six hundred years of bad luck?”

I could hear Sam’s laugh. “Yeah, probably. It’s over, bug. We’re coming home, alright?”

“Can I take the blankets off now? I think I look like total shit.”

Sam snorted. “Sure, babes. Just… be careful. Just in case.”

I rolled my eyes, yanking the blanket off the big mirror, scowling at my tear-stained face.

“Oh gross.”

                                                            ***

“So this is really over?” Charlie asked as Dean parked in front of her house.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “It’s over.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Dean reached over the back to shake her hand. She hugged me quickly before getting out of the car.

“Charlie?” Sam called.

She turned around, head tilted.

“Your boyfriend's death… you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.” Sam shrugged.

Charlie smiled at him. “Bye, Winchesters.” She turned and disappeared into the house.

“Hey.” Dean leaned over to hit Sam’s arm. “That’s good advice.”

He drove off, and I sighed between my brothers. I had buried my secret deep in the back of my brain, horrified my brothers would be upset with me. But now it was out, and although I felt relieved, I couldn’t help but replay what I had heard over the phone.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean broke the silence.

“Yeah?” Sam turned.

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” Dean’s eyes went from the road to Sam, and back.

“Look, Dean… you're my brother and I'd die for you… but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” Sam looked out the window.

I looked up at him and felt my heart shatter. I had loved Jess too. She became the mother I never had. It was a type of love that, no matter how hard my brothers tried, they couldn’t give me. I bit my lip and threw my arms around Sam. He tensed, taken aback. I whimpered against him and he softened, wrapping his arms back around me with a sigh.

Previous Ep: Phantom Traveler (1.04)

Next Ep: Skin (1.06)

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Look in Her Eyes- Chapter 2

***While on a case, Dean and Sam meet a beautiful woman, Ava. She makes a large impression on the brothers, and ends up convincing them to take her on the road with them. It isn’t long before the shared experience, car rides, motel rooms, and risky cases pushes Ava and Dean together in an unlikely story of love family, fate, and friendship. ***

Chapter Two- The Pastor 

Ava

I didn't sleep a wink. A demon is in my town. Uncle Bobby spent my whole life deterring me away from the supernatural. "Normal people are scary enough, Ava. You don't want to get mixed up in all of this." He was right. I didn't, but I was under the impression that the life didn't come from a choice. It was a curse.

I recalled Dean Winchester walking into the bar. He was sexy, rugged, and strong. He was damaged. I could see behind his green eyes that he had been through darkness. He may still be in the darkness. Bobby didn't want me to be a part of that. I didn't want to be.

I sat on my bed with all my case information spread out in front of me.

"A fucking demon." I shook my head, and tied my hair up on top of my head.

"How are all of these people connected? Come on. Give me something. Anything." I pulled out my laptop and searched for any connection.

The clicks of the keys on my keyboard were almost mesmerizing. I scrolled through their different social media trying to find any kind of connection. Bingo. I thought as I clicked to enlarge a photo from about ten years ago. It had the four families huddled together with the caption: Wednesday night bible study with the family!

It's always a church, isn't it? I shook my head and jotted down the name of the church. I knew where I was headed in the morning. I glanced at my bedside clock. It was already almost seven am. I guess I know where I am headed now. I stood up and stretched. I started a pot of much needed coffee and started my shower.

The hot water rolled off my skin and Deans smirk flashed back under my eyelids. I shook my head, and applied my shampoo. No way, lady. He is trouble. He has those heartbreak eyes. I ran my face under the hot water. And those bed breaking hips. I reached for the knob and turned the water to ice cold. Get it together.

——————

I wore my black knee high boots over black jeans, and a green sweater. A cream scarf and black leather jacket pulled together my winter attire. The day was cold, the sky dark and threatening. It was going to snow. I could feel it in my bones.

I pulled out my phone and glanced at it, half expecting to see a message from Dean. Nothing. I slid it back into my jacket pocket and made my way into church. 

The pastor was at the alter practicing his sermon. He looked young, and handsome. Maybe twenty four years old.

"Mary and Jospeh traveled long and hard. She was pregnant, and cast out. We have all heard the story a million times, but yet we still continue to cast out others in her situation. I challenge you this Christmas to choose acceptance, and choose love."

"That was beautiful." I said to announce myself.

"Detective, it's nice to see you in church."

"I'm very busy." I said with a million dollar smile.

"God understands."

"Hm." I said with a smile.

"Are you here today on personal or business?"

"Business, unfortunately." We met half way down the aisle. I felt itchy in the holy building. I pulled the images of the dead church goers out of my jacket. "Do you recognize these three?" I pointed to the deceased.

He eyed the images and shook his head. "Not them, but this is me." He said pointing to a fourteen year old child.

I swallowed hard. "Can you tell me anything about the group?"

He shrugged, holding the printed image. "It was a bible study. We did it at a local coffee shop."

"Do you remember talking to anyone odd? Having anyone offer you something?"

He narrowed his eyes a bit. "Why does this image matter, Detective? This was a long time ago."

"Have you been reading the news, Pastor?" I asked, taking the image from him. "People from your bible study are dying."

It looked like the wind had been knocked out of him. "That's tragic. How?"

"We don't know yet. This group is the only connection we have." I narrowed my eyes at him. He seemed suspicious.

"I wasn't God fearing then. I put a lot behind me from that time, so I don't remember much." His voice softened, and he put his hands in his pants pockets. "I remember speaking with a young woman. She was beautiful. She explained the love of God to me. She told me that she could give me the faith I need."

My stomach dropped. "In exchange for what?"

"She just said that she will come to me when I'm an adult, and I can repay her."

I felt sick. Light headed. The pastor sold his soul for some fucking faith.

"It's all I wanted." He explained. "To have the faith my family had. To fit in. To believe."

I shook my head. "Pastor I have some bad news for you."

The doors to the church flew open and the pastor, and I turned to face the Winchester boys strolling into the church. I grinned when Dean looked at me surprised. "Hey, Pumpkin." I called to him. "A little late to the draw?"

The man with him, who I could only assume was Sam, laughed.

"Can we talk?" Dean asked, eyeing the startled man next to me.

"Pastor, do you mind waiting just a moment?"

He glanced between us. "Yes, of course."

We made our way into the lobby. "He's the fourth victim. At least. There may be more." I said with a hushed tone.

"She's fast." Sam said.

"This is my job." I said with a shrug.

Dean met my eyes. "The pastor sold his soul to the devil. Damn there's a joke in there somewhere."

The corner of my mouth twitched, trying to smile. "What do we do?"

"First things first." Sam said, reaching out a hand. "I'm Sam."

"I know. I'm Ava."

"I know." He grinned.

I smiled back at him. He was tall, with shaggy hair. I could see the family resemblance in his green eyes, and rugged flannel. 

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Well now that everyone's introduced do you think we can make a plan?"

"The demons shouldn't be able to get into the church, but I'm not too sure about the hell hounds. We have some herbs we can put at the entrances. To try to keep them at bay. Our best bet, though, is to kill the demon that has his contract."

I looked between the two brothers. They were both handsome, and strong. I felt safe with them. "Yeah, okay. Do it. I'll talk to the pastor. Break the news."

"Sammy." Dean said, making eye contact with his brother. "Someone needs to find the others in this picture. We need to know if they made a deal too."

Sam nodded. "Do you got this?"

Dean nodded. "I think I can handle it."

Sam pushed back out the door to go contact the other people from the Bible study.

The idea of even being remotely alone with Dean made a chill run up my spine. I could still see his lips on his beer bottle. I pinched my arm to break the fantasy that was growing in my head.

"Scared you're dreaming? Sorry sweetheart, but I think you're wide awake. It's not too late to scoot, though."

"I'm not going anywhere, Dean."

He seemed to look past me. "Fuck, well, we may be."

"What do you mean?"

He pointed past me, causing me to turn. The church was empty, and the back door was ajar. "Mr Church is gone."

Sam had taken Deans Impala so he was stuck driving around town in my car. He held the flash light out the window. "I don't get it. Does he not want to be saved?"

"He's probably scared." I admitted.

We had been driving for an hour with no avail.

"Dean?" I asked him, as I slowed to stop at the stop sign.

"Huh?"

"What if we just summon it? We need to kill it, right? To release him from the contract?"

Deans eyebrows raised. "You want to summon the thing?"

"Why not? Maybe we can trap it." I put the car in park so I could turn fully towards him. "It's a good plan."

"I'm not using you as bait."

"Why? I can hold my own."

"You're Bobby's niece."

"I'm 25 years old." I argued. "Who I'm related to is a moot point."

"Not for me." He shook his head. "Bobby is family. I won't let family die."

I chewed the inside of my cheek. "Do you have any better ideas? From what I've heard from Bobby, Dean, you Winchester's are infamous to the demons. If they see you they'll smell a trap. Won't they?"

He looked down, like he was considering it.

I reached out, I could help it, and I took his hand. "You and Sam will be there. Come on. The pastor just wanted some hope. He shouldn't have to die for wanting some hope."

Dean looked up and met me with soft, understanding eyes. "I don't like it."

"I know."

"You can't tell Bobby."

"I won't."

"You can't get hurt."

"You won't let that happen."

He nodded. "Fuck it. Okay."

We made our way to the coffee shop that sat on the outskirts of town. Right at a cross road. "Kind of a sketchy place to have church group."

"I'll say." I agreed, zipping my coat up. I felt a chill that went to my bones. There was darkness here.

Dean was painting a devils trap on the roof of a gazebo, when he noticed my chill. "Ava, are you sure you want to do this? We can always abort."

I met his eyes in the darkness. "I'm sure."

He nodded, trusting me. Sam arrived, and we finished prepping. The boys hid, and I buried my box in the dirt. I took a few deep breaths and closed my eyes, chanting the words that Sam had taught me.

"You called?" I turned to find a woman, bare foot even though it was 25 degrees outside. She was wearing all white.

I swallowed hard. "I want to climb the ranks. I'm a detective, but I need more. Special services, FBI... I want to be a success." I hoped I was selling it, because fuck I was terrified.

She walked around me, trailing her finger along my shoulders. "I can do that." She purred.

I followed her with my eyes as she circled me like a hungry shark. "You'll have to give me something, though, in return."

"And I get 10 years?"

"So you know the drill." She grinned widely.

I nodded. "Yes." I looked around. "Can we go somewhere a little more private to discuss? It's not too busy here, but I don't feel comfortable standing in the road." I gestured toward the gazebo.

She nodded and followed me under the gazebo. I walked right past the devils trap. Dean left about a foot on all sides so I could slip out the edge of the gazebo when she was trapped.

She walked right into it. Score. "Let's make this official." She stepped toward me.

"As much as I like to see two girls kiss," Dean began as he stepped out of the shadows with a gun in his hand. "It'd be way more fun to just gank you."

The demons eyes turned black as she turned to Dean. "Dean Winchester. I should've known." She turned to me. "It isn't nice to trick people, Ava."

"Ava get out of there." Dean instructed sternly.

I backed out of the gazebo, and I stood next to Dean. I felt stronger when we were next to each other.

"Now where is the littlest Winchester?" She circled around eyeing for Sam.

"Do you own Pastor James's contract?"

The demon grinned back at me darkly. "Wouldn't you like to know, bitch." The creature snarled.

My distraction worked, because Sam was behind her in an instant. He pressed the gun to the back of her head and he began to chant the words for an exorcism. She thrashed and screamed out. He finished the chant and her. Mouth opened, smoke rushing out and going straight back to hell. Her human body crashed to the ground. She was already dead.

The three of us looked to each other. "That seemed too easy."

"Tell me about it." Dean said. He looked from the dead girl, to Sam, and then lingered on me. "I need a damn drink."

I looked at my watch. "Why don't you two come by my house around dinner time?" I smiled softly meeting Deans eyes. "I just realized that it's Christmas Eve."

Dean smiled at me. "Yeah, I think that'd be nice."

———————

I parted ways with the Winchester's, only to meet up with them in a few hours. I went back to my one bedroom apartment. My sad excuse for a Christmas tree, and my picture frames that still held the faces that they came with instead of pictures of my family that I don't have. My case files were littered all over the apartment. I scooped them up and tossed them in my desk drawer. The soup was bubbling on the stove as I changed out of my clothes I had worn all day into a black, long sleeved dress. It was simple, and comfortable. Part of me wanted to look pretty.

I heard the door opened with a creak. "Sam, Dean? Is that you?" I asked as I sat down my red lipstick. You two are early!" I walked into the living room to see a strange man standing in my doorway. "Excuse me, what are you doing in my house?" I asked, eyeing the room for my gun.

"You killed someone important to me today." I watched the mans eyes turn black. "And you're going to pay."

———————————————————————————————————-

Chapter Three- Pain

Get caught up!

[notfunnydean]

Love is a hurting thing 2/33

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Supernatural Relationships: Gabriel / Dean Winchester; Gabriel / Sam Winchester; Lisa Braeden / Dean Winchester; Castiel / Dean Winchester Main Pairing: Destiel Additional Tags: #Fake / Pretend Relationship, #at first, #dean loves gabriel, #gabriel loves sam, #it’s really complicated until it’s not, #charlie is the best friend, #high-shool-au, #soccer team #Endgame Destiel, #don’t worry Dean will be happy at the end, #thanks to cas, #oh also lisa/dean is only mentioned, #hurt dean, #hurt cas, #misunderstandings, #sweet cas, #soft dean, #gabriel and sam get their shit together too in the end

Chapter 2: I hurt myself today

Dean tries to wipe the tears from his cheek, but they won't stop coming. Gabriel drove them home, after the their "success" with making Sam jealous. Dean is now in his tiny room and stares at the ceiling. He loves their little home, even though it's nothing special. Living with Gabriel here makes it special.

But it doesn't mean anything to Gabriel. He thinks Dean and him are just best friends. And who can blame him? Gabriel doesn't know that he had hurt Dean a few minutes ago. Gabriel doesn't know about Dean's feelings. Gabriel doesn't know that kissing him was special to Dean.

Dean knew that Gabriel isn't in love with him. But he still choose to go along with Gabriel's stupid plan. Because he actually thought Sam wouldn't like Gabriel back and maybe…maybe Gabriel would realize that Dean is right here. But who was he even kidding.

But at least now he knows, how it feels to kiss Gabriel.

"Dean?"

Dean jerks a bit at the voice of his best friend and tries to wipe the tears away with his shirt. But Gabriel already opened the door without knocking again. Fuck, what does the idiot want now?

"Yes?" Dean asks back and he tries to smile as wide as he can. But Gabriel of course, would never ignore what he just saw. Sometimes Dean hates him.

Not really, but anyway.

"What's wrong, Dean-o." Gabriel asks and now he actually sounds a bit worried. Well no wonder. Dean doesn't cry. Ever.

"Nothing…I just…there was something in my eye." Dean answers and he awkwardly wipes at his eyes again. Very good, Winchester. Showing how much of an idiot, you really are, Dean thinks and groans quietly.

Dean looks at his watch and frowns. Ah. That's why Gabriel is here. Soccer training starts in 45 minutes. Gabriel wants to go there with Dean and make Sam jealous again. Just wonderful. Dean doesn't feel like being Gabriel fake boyfriend again.

Even though he is hurt himself, he also worries about Sam. But he is too afraid to ask his little brother about it. Normally Dean would do anything to make his little brother happy and he really thought Sam wasn't interested in Gabriel. But he still wants…he still wants Gabriel for himself.

He is an asshole. He knows that.

"Come on. I know I'm rather pretty, but I'm not an idiot." Gabriel answers and he sits down on Dean's bed. Right next to him, Dean shudders. He hates to cry and he really doesn't do it often. And he hates it even more, in front of Gabriel. He wipes his eyes again and shrugs. What can he say? The truth?

Ha. Nope.

"It's…well it's stupid." Dean mutters in the end and Gabriel puts an arm around Dean's shoulder and pulls him closer. Dean allows himself to enjoy that half-hug a bit and puts his head on Gabriel's shoulder.

"It's not stupid, if you sit here and cry about it. You know as your best friend, you can tell me anything, right?" Gabriel asks and Dean feels even worse. No. No he can't tell Gabriel everything.

Because then he would lose his best friend and Dean can't live without him.

"I think… well I have a crush on someone." Dean chokes on his own words, but he can see from the corner of his eye, that Gabriel smiles at that.

"Wow! But that's good news, Dean-o! Finally you found somebody, god I waited for years that this would happen!" Gabriel shrieks and he sounds so happy about that. So far Dean never really had a relationship. Flirting? Yeah he was good at that (just not with Gabriel), but otherwise nope.

Dean sighs quietly and then pulls away from Gabriel. He even scoops over to the end of the bed.

"Hmm." Dean mumbles and then plays with the hem of his shirt. Gabriel lifts one eyebrow and cocks his head to one side. He doesn't need to ask, Dean knows, what's on Gabriel's mind.

"She…uhm doesn't like me back." Dean says and he hopes Gabriel buys his lie. Dean is ashamed, that he never even told Gabriel that he likes boys, too. Dean knows for a while now, that he is actually bi, but he never told anyone. He isn't even sure why. After all Gabriel likes boys, too.

But something always holds him back. Maybe that Gabriel somehow could find out about Dean's feelings and will leave him for that.

"Ha. Yeah, who are you kidding? Why wouldn't she!?" Gabriel says then and he sounds nearly offended. Dean has to smile at Gabriel's face, but he can also feel his eyes sting again.

"I mean it, Gabe. She…doesn't even know I exist in that way. You know she is really perfect. I like her eyes the most, but she is actually so funny and always in a good mood. She makes me crazy and doesn't even realize it and well… she is just out of reach. Why would she want me anyway?" Dean rambles and he looks ashamed at his hands.

Dean blushes, when he realizes that he actually talked about Gabriel here and not some random girl. Gabriel shakes his head.

"How are you so sure about that? Did you ask her out?" Gabriel wants to know and Dean huffs. Asking her out. Ha. Yeah easy.

"Nope." Dean answers and Gabriel punches him against the shoulder.

"Dean, man. Are you kidding me. I'm sure she likes you back. Hell pretty sure the whole school likes you." Gabriel answers and Dean turns away for good now. Gabriel isn't entirely wrong, Dean knows there are few people who seem to like him, but the only person Dean wants, is in love with his little brother. God damn.

"Doesn't matter anyway. Pretty sure she saw us two earlier together." Dean says, to change the subject a bit. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Gabriel looks a bit crushed at that. His eyebrows are pulled together and his light brown eyes (golden in Dean's mind) are looking guilty at Dean.

"Oh…if you just told me about that, we wouldn't have played the happy couple. I don't want to spoil your chances with her." Gabriel and he bites down on his bottom lip.

Dean wants to kiss those lips again.

"Bullshit. I mean you too have to tell Sam, that…" Dean starts, but he can't finish the sentences and pulls his blanket over his lap instead.

"…that it wasn't real anyway and only an excuse to make him jealous." Gabriel finishes happily for him and Dean's heart sinks. Not real. It wasn't real. That's the only word in Dean's mind now. He wants to scream at Gabriel or cry again, but he just sits there and nods.

Not real.

"So… who is the lucky girl? Do I know her, too?" Gabriel asks, when they sit there quietly for a few minutes. Dean sniffles quietly. Why is this happening. Why does his best friend not want him?

"Who?" Dean whispers and Gabriel smirks.

"Your crush, man. Your girl!" Gabriel grins and Dean blushes. Ah. Yes.

Shit. What did he tell Gabriel? Nothing too much about the appearance…so he tries to think of a girl, that he actually knows at least a bit. But not too much or the lie would be obvious.

"Lisa." Dean finally says and he nods at himself. Lisa is a cheerleader and sometimes she watches the soccer practice as well. So yeah hopefully Gabriel will believe that.

"Nice." Gabriel answers and the smirk on his face, means nothing good. It means Gabriel has an idea. A bad idea. Before Dean can say anything else, Gabriel stands up and goes over to Dean's wardrobe. Dean sighs but doesn't protest, when Gabriel opens the wardrobe and pulls out dark blue jeans, that are a little bit tight, a black shirt and a green flannel shirt.

"Get dressed. The flannel shirt makes you look like a lumberjack but it also brings your eyes out. Oh and where is your brown leather jacket? Wear it too." Gabriel says and he throws the clothes at Dean.

"Why?" Dean asks, but he takes the clothes anyway and stands up. Gabriel rolls his eyes and even though that doesn't make a single sound, Dean can hear it.

"We have a plan to accomplish! You will go to soccer training with me and you will look great at my side. I will hold your hand and you will look at me with heart eyes and I'm pretty sure Sam will explode. Oh and for sure Lisa will be jealous, too. I mean I noticed she is looking at you for weeks now. So we just tease them a little bit and in the end we both get our loved ones. We will marry, be happy and get many sweet little babies." Gabriel explains and he sounds so happy about it. It's Dean turn to roll his eyes but he nods anyway.

"You are insane. I'm not sure it's a good idea to tease Sam with me. I mean come man, I'm his brother. He will hate me for this." Dean says then and he is worried about that. If he knew Sam would actually be jealous, he wouldn't have done it in the first place. So maybe he should explain things to Sam now.

"Don't worry. I will explain that it was my idea and you are just a poor victim in this. And besides Sam adores you. He would never be angry about this." Gabriel says and he pats Dean on the shoulder.

"Not so sure about that…" Dean tries again, but Gabriel puts a finger over Dean's mouth.

"Ah ah ah. Now get ready. And don't forget to cheer for me at the soccer training." Gabriel says and Dean nods, before he goes over to his own bathroom to get dressed. He isn't sure he wants to get dressed (and undressed) in front of Gabriel at the moment.

Gabriel is still waiting for him, when Dean is finished and he looks him up and down.

"Okay?" Dean asks and he turns around, so Gabriel has a better look. To his surprise Gabriel is frowning and rubs his chin between his finger and his thumb. Seems like Gabriel doesn't like the look.

"Something is missing." Gabriel mutters and he looks around Dean's room. When he sees Dean's necklace on the bed table, he grins and gets it. Dean frowns. The necklace is a present from Sam for Dean's birthday, when they were still little and he can't believe he didn't wear it today.

He always wears it.

Means he really was confused this morning. Before Dean can even hold his hand out for the necklace, Gabriel comes closer and puts it around Dean's neck for him. Dean stops breathing for a moment and Gabriel smiles.

"It's from Sam, right? God he is so sweet." Gabriel says and turns around to get his sports bag. Dean's heart sinks again. Doesn't matter what he does, Gabriel always thinks about Sam.

At this point Dean should be used to it. The last months Gabriel rarely talked about something else. But it still feels as unbelievable as it did the first time.

"Man, if I wasn't already in love with your brother, I would totally go on my knees for you." Gabriel says and he even winks at Dean, before he goes out of the rom. Dean freezes in his movements. How can Gabriel say stuff like that to him?

Dean shakes his head and then follows Gabriel. It's his own fault. He should've never agreed to this stupid plan, but of course Gabriel's puppy eyes were just as bad as Sam's.

"So how do you plan to win our loved ones over?" Dean asks, when he gets into the passenger seat of Gabriel's car again. That's just another thing. Normally he would always drive himself, but with Gabriel? Doesn't matter. He doesn't even miss Baby. Okay he does. But still.

"Just like earlier. We hold hands and before I start with the training, I will kiss you again. Because I have to say, the way you kissed me back earlier, I never thought you were interested in woman in the first place." Gabriel laughs loudly and Dean tries to play along. He fails, but Gabriel doesn't seem to realize that.

"That's because I'm a wonderful actor." Dean answers finally and Gabriel just laughs harder. Okay wow, thanks.

It wasn't a complete lie. Normally Dean isn't good with acting or that kind of stuff. But he could hide his feelings for Gabriel so many months now, that he seems to be good at that. Or maybe Gabriel is just way too deep into this thing with Sam.

"And after your trainings session? You just go to Sam and say it was all a joke? Do you think he believes that? And even if he does, I'm pretty sure he won't forgive you for that." Dean says again, because really? Gabriel's plan isn't so bright.

"Huh…well I just wanna see if he really gets jealous. And if he does, then I will explain it to him. I just don't know if he likes me back and that's what we are gonna know in a few hours I think." Gabriel says he sounds really determined. Dean leans back in his seat and nods.

"I just…I really love him, you know?" Gabriel whispers and before Dean can answer to that (not that he wanted to) Gabriel cranks up the volume of the rock music, they listen to. Dean nods again, because yes he knows how much Gabriel likes his brother. Only his heart doesn't want to understand that. But he would help Gabriel anyway.

That's what best friends do.

And in the end Gabriel's luck is so much more worth than his own. Because if Gabriel is happy, then Dean would be okay with being alone.

Well.

He hopes. ( @dammitdain & @atreatiseonlaughing)

[deansdirtylittlesecretsblog]

Ketch Her If You Can

Title:  Ketch Her If You Can

Summary:  Dean’s not happy when Ketch and the reader start flirting. Ketch seems interested in her, until the truth comes out, then he shows his true colors.

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Dean Winchester, Female Reader, Arthur Ketch, Sam Winchester

Word Count:  1795

Warnings:  canon typical violence

Author’s Notes: This was written for @supernatural-jackles Birthday Challenge. My prompt was the gif below. I decided to go a different route and not write demon!Dean. Also, this is smut free. Go figure.

Dean didn’t like them, the British Men of Letters. He didn’t trust them, even with the assurances from Sam and Mary that what they were doing was the right thing, that they were helping people, saving people. He knew, in his gut, that there was more to them than met the eye, that they were up to something; He just didn’t know what.

The day Ketch met Y/N, that feeling in his gut intensified. He didn’t like the way Ketch smiled at her, a little lecherous, a lot flirtatious; Dean didn’t like the way his voice dropped an octave when he talked to her, like he was trying to impress her or something. But what he disliked even more was the way Y/N smiled back and the way her eyes lit up with interest. It set him on edge.

Of course, it wasn’t like he could say anything. Y/N was her own person; in no way, shape, or form did she belong to Dean. Sure, he’d expressed interest in her in the past, or you know, he thought he did, dropping a line here or there, tossing out a wink every now and then, things that generally had women falling at his feet. Funny enough, it didn’t seem to work on her. But as soon as that British asshole opened his mouth and started to talk, she was practically drooling. Must be the accent.

“Dean?” Sam nudged his brother. “Dude, what’s your problem?”

Dean dragged his eyes away from Ketch sitting at the library table beside Y/N, one hand on the back of her chair, his fingers resting on her shoulder, his knees pressed right up against her leg, leaning over her, intently listening to whatever the hell it was she was saying.

“What?” he growled. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Sam chuckled. “You’re seething, you’re literally grinding your teeth, I’d bet a million bucks that you’re gnawing on the inside of your cheek. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Dean tipped his chin in the direction of the two people yakking it up in the library. He desperately wanted to walk up the stairs, grab Ketch by his stupid black leather jacket, and throw him and his goddamn accent out the door. He would derive great pleasure in dragging him up the metal staircase, reveling in the the thunk of his body parts hitting those stairs as he threw him out. Dean’s fingers twitched with the need to do it.

“That’s what I thought,” Sam shook his head. “You know Dean, all of these problems would go away if you just told her how you feel.”

“I have,” he grumbled.

“Um, I don’t think cryptic one-liners and winking at her when you’re drunk count as ‘telling her’ Dean,” Sam said.

“Shut up,” Dean snapped, pushing himself away from the table. He’d had enough of listening to Sam tell him what he already knew and enough of Ketch flirting with Y/N. He cleared his throat as he walked up the stairs, though it didn’t deter Ketch even a little, he merely looked up, a grin on his stupid face.

“‘Ello, Dean,” he smirked. “You never told me you knew such a lovely young lady. She’s quite the charmer.”

Y/N blushed and giggled - she freaking giggled - put her hand on Ketch’s knee and squeezed. Dean was pretty sure she’d never giggled in response to anything he’d said. He took a step forward, barely aware he was doing it, not until Sam grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Dude,” he muttered. “Cool it.”

Dean took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the table. “What’d you find?” he asked, pointing at the iPad in front of Y/N.

“Arthur found us a case in Missouri,” Y/N answered.

Dean clenched his jaw and instantly regretted it when he heard Sam snort behind him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to have a brain embolism. Ketch was going to be the reason he died. Great.

“Arthur?” he grumbled.

Y/N pushed herself out of her chair, her iPad in hand. She patted Ketch on the shoulder. “Yeah, Arthur,” she smiled. “Look, I’m gonna go pack a bag. I’ll be ready in less than 10 minutes.” She disappeared down the hall.

“She’s a lovely girl,” Ketch murmured, watching her go.

“Ketch,” Dean snapped.

“Hm?” the British douchebag hummed, turning to look at him.

“Back off,” Dean replied. “She’s spoken for.”

“By you?” Ketch laughed. “Highly unlikely, Dean. She is not your type, nor does she seem to have any interest in you.”

“Look, Ketch, just, lay off, okay?” Sam interjected. “There’s something you don’t -”

“Well, it seems to me that if there was truly an interest, something would have been done about it.” Ketch rose to his feet, arms crossed, facing Dean. “Seems as though she’s fair game.”

“Y/N is not fair game, okay?” Dean growled, rolling his eyes. “Leave her alone.”

“I think I will let her decide if I should leave her alone,” Ketch stated. “After all, she’s a grown woman.” He moved to step around Dean, but he put his arm out, stopping him, his hand closing around his upper arm.

“I said, leave her alone,” Dean repeated. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well. Especially if Ketch found out the truth about her, about what she really was. His fists involuntarily clenched just thinking about it.

“What are you two fighting about?” Y/N asked as she came up the stairs. She tossed her duffle bag on the table. “I thought we were all going to try to get along?”

“This is ridiculous,” Ketch sighed heavily. “Fighting over a woman. Really, the choice belongs to Y/N.”

This was it, the moment he died from the brain embolism caused by Ketch. Motherfucker had to go and open his big mouth. This was going to be awkward.

“You’re fighting over me?” Y/N laughed nervously. “Seems a bit unnecessary. I, uh, I mean, um…” She blew out a breath, the hair on her forehead moving with as she exhaled. “Look, don’t make me throw some crazy spell on you two to make you play nice, okay? It’s too early to be using my powers. I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

Ketch straightened up, his back ramrod straight. His eyes danced up and down the length of Y/N’s body, looking for whatever telltale sign he felt he must have unknowingly missed. His fists clenched and unclenched against his thighs, his head tipped inquisitively to one side.

“What did you say?” He turned to look at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Powers, love? What powers?”

Dean stepped forward, easing himself in beside Y/N, his hand in the small of her back. He caught Sam’s eye, tipping his head slightly. Sam stepped to his right, blocking the exit to the war room.

Y/N took a step back, closer to Dean, eyeing the Brit warily. “I-I thought you knew. I’m, well, I’m a witch.”

“Bloody hell,” Ketch sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I really wish you hadn’t told me that.” He pulled a knife from the inside pocket of his jacket, spinning it in his hand.

“D-Dean?” Y/N stammered, stepping to her left, moving so she was standing behind him.

“Y/N, go!” Dean roared, the sound echoing off the thick bunker walls. “Now!”

Ketch lunged for her, one hand twisting in the back of the flannel she was wearing, tearing the fabric down the middle as she sprinted for the stairs. Ketch tried to follow her, but Sam stepped in front of him.

“Ketch, wait,” Sam reached for him, but Ketch swung, clocking him in the chin, causing him to stumble backwards and hit his head on one of the bookshelves, falling to the floor. As soon as the younger Winchester hit the ground, Ketch sprinted out of the library and through the war room, screaming Y/N’s name.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered. He moved toward Sam, but his brother waved him away.

“I’m fine, go stop him,” Sam yelled.

Dean could hear Ketch yelling, calling Y/N, promising not to hurt her, promising her that he only wanted to talk to her. He had to find him, had to stop him before he found Y/N. He rounded the corner leading to the garage and there she was, moving down the hall toward the dungeon.

“Y/N!” he called.

Startled, she spun around, her eyes wide, confused, tears running down her face. Dean had almost reached her when she screamed, Ketch grabbing her from behind, yanking her toward him. Dean swore and lunged, his arms going around her waist, wrestling her free of the other man’s grip, pushing her behind him.

Ketch’s knife came up, pressing against Dean’s throat. “Get out of my way, Dean,” he ordered.

“No,” Dean snapped. “You’re not touching her. You’re leaving. Without her.”

“She’s a monster -”

“She is not a monster,” Dean said. “She’s a person, just like you and me.”

“No, she is not like us, Dean. That is where you are very, very wrong. The things she does, the things she knows, well, she could kill us. All of us. Now, get out of my way or I will kill you.”

Dean leaned into the knife. “Do it. Because that is the only way you’re getting to Y/N. I will not let you touch her. Not now, not ever.”

Ketch’s face changed, the mask slipping for just a second, long enough for Dean to see the fear and doubt in his eyes, the doubt making him hesitate, hesitate long enough for Sam to hit him from behind, sending him to the floor.

Her door was open, but he still stopped outside and tapped softly on the jamb. She was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She sat up and smiled at him, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey,” Dean murmured. “You okay?”

“You mean since Ketch threatened to kill me?” she muttered. “Yeah, I’m great. Where is he anyway?”

“Sam’s driving him to middle of nowhere and leaving him there, locked in the trunk of his car,” he explained.

“He’s not going to stop, Dean,” Y/N sighed. “Now that he knows about me, he won’t stop.” She dropped her head into her hands, a strangled sob coming from her.

He hurried to her side and pulled her into his arms, hugging her to his chest. She wrapped her hands in his shirt and pulled him down onto the bed beside her, burying her face against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave me, Dean,” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I promise.”

Forever:  @jensennjared @mrswhozeewhatsis @the-mrs-deanwinchester @official-shipper @brooklyn-writes-flangst @climbthatmooselikeatree @mamapeterson @katnharper @raeganr99 @skybinx-blog @winchesterr67 @grellsutcliff105 @arikas5744 @faegal04 @the-girl-of-your-nightmares @mrsjohnsmith @mogaruke @courageoussam @nerdwholikesword @growningupgeek @virgosapphire79 @sleep-silent-angel @bkwrm523 @iwriteshortstuff @for-the-love-of-dean @nichelle-my-belle @deandoesthingstome @andiamsoinlovewithyou @pizzarollpatrol @misswhizzy @supernatural-jackles @waywardjoy @awkwardnerdqueen @valee-ppiew @superbluhoo2 @deansbaekaz2y5 @roseangel013bf @jencharlan @kickasscas67 @neanealuv @deanscherrypie @kittenofdoomage @tjforston @purgatoan @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sckslife @sis-tafics @youwerelikeadream @i-dream-of-dean @impala-with-wings @bringmesomepie56 @basmaraafat @oriona75 @writingbeautifulmen @ultimatecin73 @gemini75eeyore @vote-for-pedro @tom-is-in-my-tardis @percywinchester27 @mysteriouslyme81 @faith-in-dean @that1seniorchick @milkymilky-cocopuff @atc74 @s4m-w1nch3st3r5287 @winsmut @squirrelchester @demonangelimpala @justacaliforniandreamer @xxsugarturtle @findingfitnessforme @asxualgallavich @winchestergirl-love @petrovadixon @colorfuluniversewhispers @love-kittykat21 @velcr0kitty @spookypeyton @frickfracklesackles @ria132love @shhhs3cret @harleenquinzzel @icantfindacreativeurl @gallifreyansass @anotherotter @kaitlynmarie1120 @giftofdreams @not-moose-one-shots @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @emoryhemsworth @fangirlofeverythingme @goldenolaf25 @nanie5 @cameronbraswell @luulaachops @upon-a-girl @goofynerd-67babylove @deanandsamsbitch

Dean girls:  @rizlow1 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @winchesterenthusiast @salvachester @deanwinchesterxreader @love-me-some-pie21 @appleschloss @zanthiasplace @hybristophilaa @destiel-bae @winchester-bait @ioanashalala @kayteonline @miss-devonaire @torn-and-frayed @piratedaydreams @myspnsmutsave @omgreganlove @secretlyfurrydragon @ho-ne-y @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @rockgoddean @annewinchester @captainemwinchester @feelmyroarrrr @klaineaholic @avengedqueen26 @milo-winchester-4ever @kathaswings