#I feel like it always needs to be Dean that finds him doing extra creepy stuff too

[runraerun]

Submitting another idea for the ongoing devil!Jack headcanon that I’m obsessed with:

Dean walking passed Jack’s bedroom only to look in and find him fast asleep off to honk mimimi land, floating two feet off the bed like something off of the Exorcist.

#I feel like it always needs to be Dean that finds him doing extra creepy stuff too #because he can freak out individually #but then when he goes to narc on Jack to Cas and Sam they’re like Dean stop picking in Jack he’s a kid #Cas and Sam being like no Dean #Jack is a good egg #and Dean is like YEAH MAYBE A DEVILED EGG #and thinks he’s really funny #but no one laughs #except maybe Jack #because Jack would appreciate a good dad joke #Dean feels like he’s taking crazy pills #jack kline #destiel #supernatural #spn #castiel #dean winchester #dadstiel #alexander calvert #deancas #Sam Winchester #let Jack be a freaky boy!2023 #Jack in honkmimimi land

[wormstacheangel]

have some latinenatural for day 1 of @spnprideweek dean trying to come out to himself

Dean didn’t like going down this neighborhood. It never made him any money, plus the block is a dead end, so he always ends up circling back around with his heavy cart. His Tio always yelled at him for it, wasting precious time in a block where nobody paid him any attention because these Americanos aren’t used to people walking around selling comida.

Pero Dean always had one customer that always came running out whenever Dean came around, and he was worth the extra minutes he had to petal in the hot sun.

“Dean!”

Dean hears his name, expecting it but still feeling relief from hearing it. He looks ahead, his fingers stopped ringing the bells that have become background noise to him by now, and sees his favorite customer running out of the big white house Dean can only ever dream of renting. He wouldn’t ever dream of owning; he can’t have dreams so impossible.

Dean petals a little bit faster until he breaks in front of the pretty face he sees at least three times a week.

“Cas.” Dean practically beams at him even though he was trying to stay cool. Smooth. “Mi Angelito.” Dean winks, and he doesn’t miss Cas’s eyes widened and ears blushing at the nickname. “How you been?”

[continue reading under the cut or read on ao3]

Cas was dressed in his usual white button-up and slacks but they looked a lot more ruffled up than usual. His hair looked unkempt as it curled at the ends—Dean wasn’t complaining he loved it—and his typical neat shirt was wrinkled with sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He looked the guy up and down before his eyebrows creased together.

“You okay, Cas?”

“Yeah.” Cas sighed, shoulders slumping as he reached to run his hand through his hair—that probably explains the bed head—before smiling back at Dean with a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you say so.” Dean jumps off the bike and walks over to his cart. “The usual?”

“Please.”

Dean nods once before getting to work on a raspado de vainilla for Cas. He works in silence for a minute, just the sound of the ice scraping between them before Dean looks back at Cas.

“You know, si quieres, you can talk to me.” Dean looks up to see Cas was already watching him. “I know I’m a nobody, but I hear nobodies are great to vent to.”

“You aren’t a nobody, Dean.” Cas’s expression softens at the words. His eyes brighten as he looks at Dean, almost as if he can see into his soul. Then, just as Dean was about to drown in those baby blues, Cas looked away. His fingers started to twitch as he looked sheepishly at the ground. “Plus, my problems are small. I can deal with them by myself.”

Dean looks away, packing the ice into the cup before reaching to pour the vainilla as he talks. “Yeah, I know you can, pero; I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to.”

Cas is nothing but a customer that Dean has been crushing on—it was a small, slow, and scary realization. The only reason they’re on a first-name basis now is because Cas once left his name tag on, and Dean asked what it meant.

Dean handed Cas his raspado across the cart, Dean needed to keep his distance, but he knew when Cas reached for it, their fingers would touch; he looked forward to the simple touch each time.

They did, and Dean’s breath catches in his throat before he works on chicharrones, lots of limon, and a little bit of chile.

“But I get it, you know, if you don’t want to talk to me.” Dean looks up to see Cas still staring at him but with eyes filling with tears. “Holy shit.” Dean put the bag down and walked around to stand by Cas’s side. He grabbed a napkin from his cart and handed it to Cas to wipe his eyes. “Dude. Dude, please no llores. Don’t cry. People are gonna think I did something to you, and I’ll lose customers.” Dean tries to joke, but Cas doesn’t crack a smile. Instead, he rolls his eyes.

“Dean, nobody but me ever comes out here.”

Dean shrugs. “Potential customers then.” Dean grabs another napkin and reaches to wipe the tears that were already falling. “Estas bien, Angelito. Talk to me.”

“I-I shouldn’t.” Cas accepts Dean’s kindness for a second longer before gently moving Dean’s hand away. “You’re working. Let me just pay you so you can stop wasting your time here.”

Dean nods, stepping away from Cas so as not to seem pushy. As much as he loved being so close to Cas’s face, he didn’t want to seem creepy about it. This neighborhood has eyes everywhere, and Dean couldn’t really risk having his cart, his livelihood, be taken away just cause he has a small crush on the white boy.

So Cas gives him the exact change to the quarter and smiles sadly before he waves goodbye. Dean waves back as he gets on his bike to pedal out of this neighborhood and into a more comfortable one. He didn't ring the bell until he was out of there.

Cas doesn’t come out to see him the next day or the day after that, and now he has to wait until next week to see him. If Cas still wanted to see him.

“I don’t know why you still go over there,” Sam says as he helps Dean unpack the car.

Dean’s side gigs included selling his homemade food Friday through Sunday—he can almost call himself a caterer—while on Thursday, he preps during the day and works as a janitor in a big law office at night. Today was Thursday, so Dean had to wake up early to go to the big marketplace downtown. They sold the chicharrones de harina in bulk for cheap, and they had all the ingredients he’ll need to make the syrups for the raspados himself.

Sam rarely comes with Dean to get all these things since he was always busy with school, but today he came along on the day that Dean ran out of maiz azul. It just meant more trabajo para los dos.

“Or why you still sell raspados when you make more money on the weekend with your food.” Sam continued as they struggled to carry the bag of maiz to the kitchen. They both let out a heavy breath when they finally dropped the bag in the kitchen. Dean’s going to spend the next hour cleaning and soaking the damn corn after this. That doesn’t even include cooking it and finally making the damn masa.

“El trabajo es duro but I like it.” Dean pats Sam’s shoulder before they go back to the car to get the rest of the things. “I like going down neighborhoods and saying hi to people.”

“I get that pero why do you have to go to their side of town?”

Dean doesn’t know how to answer that.

He hasn’t told anyone about Cas. About how one day he was bored and wandered over to that neighborhood only to find Cas laying on his front lawn with a book covering his face. Dean, for some reason, couldn’t help but to ring the bells louder, startling Cas. Dean laughed for half a second before a book went flying to his face, knocking him off his bike. Cas learned too many cuss words in Spanish that day, but the big bruise was worth it.

Still, Dean didn’t want to tell anyone about Cas. Afraid to even speak of him because that would mean that his crush was real. That he had actual feelings, romantic ones, for another guy.

He knows que su Tío no lo va sacar de la casa pero todavía Dean tenía miedo. He was scared to admit this part of himself was real when it felt like a sin in his culture. ¡Ser gay es una cosa pero bisexual! ¡Ni madres! That doesn’t exist. Not where he is from.

So he’ll keep it to himself. Keep Cas as his secret fantasy and nothing more.

“The houses are nice to look at. One day, Sammy!” Sam was already groaning at Dean’s words that sounded more like an old man’s recurring ‘when I was your age’ stories. “One day, I’ll get us a house like that! One where we can each have our own room. And bathroom.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. Let’s just finish this so I can go back to my homework.”

“¡Estas pendejo! After this, you’re gonna help me clean the bathroom and throw away the trash before Tio comes home.”

“But Dean,”

“¡Pero nada! ¡Piensas que soy pendejo como tu, pinche mamón! Don’t think I don’t know you spend that time babeando por tu novia.”

“Dean!” Sam quickly passes him in a huff of embarrassment while Dean laughed, following Sam back to the car to get more groceries.

When Monday rolls around, Dean forces himself to come down Cas’s street again. The bells rang softly at first, only getting louder as he came closer to the house. He didn’t see a car in sight, so he thinks maybe Cas isn’t home.

He was already pedaling away when he heard someone call out to him. He hits the breaks half haphazardly, and the gallons shake on his cart, threatening to fall out. He was about to turn around, but then he realizes he hears footsteps running closer, and then he hears heavy breathing by his ear.

“Fuck.” Cas hands rest on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “Are you-are you trying to run away from me?” Cas looks up with a teasing smile, it was beautiful, and Dean didn’t realize how much he missed him until now. “I am your only customer around here, so that’s a pretty bad business decision if you ask me.”

“I-I didn’t think you wanted to see me.” Dean could have joked around with him, but instead, his mouth decided to kick the conversation off with some honesty. Dean looked down at the bike handles as he talked. “Since you didn’t come out last week, I just figured-”

“Oh.” Cas stood up straight as he ran a hand through his overgrown hair; his clothes looked neat again, though. “I didn’t mean to make you think-”

Dean holds his hand out to stop Cas from talking, feeling embarrassed with every word. “Para. You don’t have to explain. No me debes-you don’t owe me anything.”

“I know that, but I want to. Talk, I mean. If that’s okay with you.” Cas looks at Dean with soft, warm eyes, a drastic difference from the red-rimmed eyes from the last time they saw each other. “After you’re done with work, of course.”

“I um-I usually head home around six. I can um,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, not meeting Cas’s eyes as he carefully says. “I can come by after if you want.”

“I would like that.”

Dean's head shoots up to stare back at Cas, who looked shy, pero siempre más guapo que la última vez que Dean lo miró.

At that moment, Dean wanted to lean in and kiss him more than he has wanted to kiss anyone in his 26 years of life, but he won’t. He still wasn’t sure if this was Cas asking him out as a friend or as something more. He was scared, but he knew his heart raced in excitement more than anything.

Dean finally broke away from the staring contest as he cleared his throat to get off his bike. “Todavia quieres-Do you still want your raspado?”

“Oh. Sure!”

It was silent while Dean made raspado, but he couldn’t wait for their fingers to graze again when he handed the cup over to Cas.

“Just the raspado today.” Dean still loved when Cas said it, trying not to laugh even though he loved Cas’s embarrassed blushing. Cas reaches into his pocket, but Dean reaches to touch his shoulder to stop him.

“On the house.” Dean holds it out and just like before their fingers touch, burning him.

“No, Dean, I couldn’t.”

Dean shakes his head to stop him from arguing any further. He jumped back on his bike and looked back at Cas as he said, “You can get me something later. Is seven okay?”

“Seven is…perfecto.” Cas flinched at his Spanish, but Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Pues, te miro mas tarde, Angelito.” Dean reached to pat Cas’s cheek before he started pedaling away.

“Dean! I don’t know what that means!” Cas calls out to him.

Dean doesn’t turn around to respond, mostly to hide the stupid shit-eating grin he had on his face. “I said I’ll see you later!” But he does wave goodbye, ringing the bell as he goes.

Dean really liked him, and it brought fear into his heart pero al mismo tiempo; he hasn’t been this excited to just be around someone in such a long time. So maybe this is his time to accept that maybe, for sure, he is crushing hard on a guy.

Dean sighs as he stops on the sidewalk to hang his head and quietly whispers, “For fucks sakes, soy un pinche gay.”

Well, at least he can admit to himself—sort of.

#spnprideweek #destiel #latinenatural #dean and sam are mexican #cas is the little white boy who comes and ruins lives #deancas #fic #destiel fic #my writing #wormstachewrites #porfa de ser nice over my spanish #this is dean coming out to himself btw #yeah he is bisexual but i think he'll use gay as an umbrella term for right now #sobrenatural #calinatural #tambien cause they live in California in my head

[notfunnydean]

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel Warnings/Tags: Dean in panties, nsfw pictures, Dean takes nudes, onlyfans account, coming in panties, no actually sex between Dean and Cas, stalker!Cas, mutual pining Word Count: 4.246 Challenge: None Summary: Dean is working two jobs which is why he never has time to study for his classes. When he fails another test Bobby and Ellen tell him he should focus on his studies and not his jobs. But Dean needs money and then Charlie has a brilliant idea. He makes an onlyfans account, only for his roommate and secret crush Castiel to find him in an explicit situation. Link to fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31053908 ---

“Dean?”

Castiel isn’t sure why Dean is asleep in the middle of their living room, but that position can’t be very comfortable. Dean sighs in his sleep, but doesn’t make any move to sit up again.

His nose twitches a bit and Castiel smiles down at him. He can feel the blush creeping up on his cheeks, but at least he can admit to himself, that he loves to watch Dean sleep. He looks peaceful like that.

Adorable, maybe. Surely.

“Dean you have to wake up.” Castiel says and this time he shakes softly at his shoulder. Dean whines quietly, not fully awake yet, but at least he opens his eyes. Dean always wakes up startled and alerted, Castiel had learned that the first year they had been roommates.

These days he seems to feel better.

“Cas?”

“Yeah, sorry. You fell asleep over your book in the living room and it didn’t look very comfortable.” Castiel apologizes and Dean sits slowly up. His bones crack and he groans, Castiel tries to ignore the warm feeling in his stomach.

He knows Dean is straight and they’re friends, there is no place for his feelings.

“Aw fuck. Yeah I got a test tomorrow and wanted to learn for a bit, since I didn’t really have time the last few days.” Dean says and he sounds as if he wants to apologize for that. Castiel smiles fondly.

He knows that Dean’s father doesn’t believe in Dean’s choice to study and won’t pay for any loans or basically anything Dean needs. So Dean works at the roadhouse on the weekends and twice a week at the garage of his Uncle Bobby.

Well not “real” Uncle, but close enough.

“It’s okay. I would help you study but… we both know that’s not a good idea.” Castiel says and at least he got a smile out of Dean. It’s a really stunning smile.

“Nah that’s fine. I… I don’t feel like I’m gonna pass anyway.” Dean admits and Castiel knows how much that it had cost him to admit that. Dean always feels like he’s not allowed to show any weakness.

Castiel had never met John Winchester and he’s rather glad for it, because he sounds like an asshole.

“Dean, you know that Naomi and my father pay for my classes, so I don’t really need the extra money right now from my job at the library. You could cut work a bit and study more if it would make you feel better.” Castiel says, when he sits down next to Dean.

“Yeah. We talked about this, I know you want this new camera Cas and I would never take money from you.” Dean says and there is that soft smile again.

Dean doesn’t even know he’s too good for the world.

Castiel is studying photography, even though his parents would kill him if they’d know. They still think one day he is going to lead the family company and Castiel hopes that talk can wait a few more years.

Dean’s father at least knows that Dean is studying to get a degree in automotive technology, but he still hates the idea. It’s pretty similar, John wants Dean to do what he thinks is good.

“But Dean…” Castiel starts. Dean holds his hand up and this time his smile looks so tired. Castiel’s heart squeezes.

“I’ll find a solution.” Dean says but it sounds more like he already gave up on his studying.

“I could make us some tea.” Castiel offers because he doesn’t know what else he could do to help Dean.

Castiel doesn’t even own a car, so he surely wouldn’t be any help with studying.

“Thank you.“ Dean says with another smile even though he prefers coffee.

*

“Son of a bitch.“

“That bad?“ Charlie asks and Dean doesn’t even answer at first, instead he lets his head fall on his table.

“Failed.“ Dean mutters into the table and he can hear how Charlie swallows loudly. It’s the second class he failed in one month.

“Shit.“ Charlie answers and Dean sighs.

He is so fucked. Dean loves what he studies but often enough he is too tired to actually sit down and learn about it.

“One more fail and they’ll kick me out.” Dean says and his stomach squirms uncomfortable at the thought. He had really thought he would be smart enough for classes like this, but apparently he was wrong.

“What did Ellen and Bobby say?” Charlie asks carefully and Dean groans, before he bangs his head on the table again. Not like it helps, but it does hurt.

“That if I fail this one, they’ll fire me.” Dean says and he feels so ashamed. He knows they’re not firing him, because they’re angry or disappointed. No, they care. They want him to be able to study what he wants, but both know he often doesn’t have any time to study.

“And if you talk to them again?” Charlie asks and she sounds so sad herself. Dean knows that she’s the smarter one out of them and he tried to study with her together, but his schedule had been so tight.

“Nah. They’re right. They’d support me without me working, but money is tight for them as well. It’s just that I really need the money. Sam’s the best of his classes and I want him to stay in Stanford. He can’t know about this.” Dean says and Charlie nods. It’s not the first time he had told her this.

“Failed uh Winchester?”

Dean looks up, when he hears that voice and growls quietly. Seems like Alastair has way too much fun with this.

“Shut your damn mouth!” Dean says and he’s glad that their professor left already or he would be in so much more trouble. Stupid university.

“If you would only be as smart as you are pretty.” Alastair says then and his smile is so creepy again. Dean visibly shudders, but Alastair is already gone before he can say anything.

“That damn asshole.” Dean says, but Charlie is grinning at him.

“Well he’s right. Uh kinda.” Charlie says and Dean flips her off. What the hell, he had thought that they were friends.

“What?”

“I mean you are smart, dumbass. That’s not the point, but you are damn pretty. Even I can see that and I play for a different team.” Charlie says and Dean frowns, he is not really sure what she’s hinting at.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks, but Charlie is already searching for something in her bag. Dean sees how she holds her phone up and then types something in it, before she holds it out for him.

“You could make an account on onlyfans.” Charlie says and Dean blushes at the pictures he can already see on Charlie’s phone. It’s not her, but Dean knows it’s Charlie’s favorite porn star. (And no he doesn’t want to explain how he knows that.)

“Hm.” Dean says, because that’s kinda risky isn’t it? But he heard before that some people made some good money there and he could easily do the photos at home and in less time than he has to work at the garage or the bar.

“I mean think about it.” Charlie says and she then switches the topic to the weekend, where they would meet up for some ‘epic’ games. Dean nods and shakes his head, whenever she looks at him, but he can’t concentrate.

Onlyfans. It’s all he can think about.'

*

“Hello Garth.” Castiel says and he waves at their neighbour, who smiles back at him.

It has just stopped raining and Castiel is glad for it. He’d been out for some classes and went grocery shopping after. It’s the least he can do when Dean is the one who is always cooking for them.

Castiel opens the door and is surprised that Dean isn’t sitting in their living room learning for his tests. Castiel knows next week there are at least two tests that Dean has to pass or they’ll kick him out.

The books are still all over their small table and Castiel smiles at the chaos. Before he had met Dean, he had lived alone and at first the chaos had really bothered him, but now he likes it.

It finally looks like someone lives here.

“Dean?”

There is no answer, so Castiel goes into the kitchen first and puts the groceries away. He hopes Dean would make them his special pasta tonight again, so he already puts those ingredients on the stove.

He calls out for Dean again, but it seems like he isn’t home. Castiel shrugs. Maybe he went out to get something for his studies? Castiel knows Dean doesn’t really like the library, but sometimes he went there for new books.

At least Dean had stopped working at the roadhouse, even though he had been in a sour mood about it, but Castiel smiles when he thinks back how Ellen had used a newspaper to get it into Dean’s head.

He does still work at Bobby’s garage for one or two days a week, but that’s it. Castiel had thought he’d put up more of a fight, but Dean had agreed in the end. Castiel is not sure how he does get by without earning the money at the roadhouse.

Maybe Sam had gotten himself a job to support himself.

Just then Castiel hears a noise back from where their rooms are and he walks towards it. Maybe Dean fell asleep again. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

Dean’s door is closed and Castiel knocks on it. He can hear music from inside and then opens the door when he hears Dean say something.

Just as Castiel wants to ask Dean for dinner, his mouth snaps shut and his eyes grow big. There is Dean, on his bed, spreading his legs and taking pictures of himself in bright purple panties.

Dean doesn’t seem to realize that Castiel is in the room with him, but then his eyes snap up and his face flushes.

Castiel is sure that he just died.

“Sorry, I uh… sorry.” Castiel says and then hastily closes the door. He is in full panic and actually stumbles on his way out. This is the most humiliating thing ever and Castiel’s heart almost falls out of his chest, with the way he runs back into their living room.

He has no idea what to do now.

Should he leave? Should he stay and talk to Dean about it? Oh god maybe Dean would move out now and Castiel would lose his best friend.

He hears Dean swearing and blushes himself now. He had seen Dean almost naked, writhing in his bed, in fucking panties and taking pictures of himself. Castiel is mortified when he feels himself growing hard at that picture in his head.

There is also the jealousy that makes itself room in his chest. Dean is taking pictures of himself for someone and… it’s not Castiel.

Dean’s door opens, just as Castiel is sure that he will pass out. Dean is wearing grey sweatpants and an old dark shirt, that looks like at one point it could’ve been Castiel’s, but all Castiel can think about is, if he’s wearing the panties underneath.

“So eh… can we maybe talk about this?” Dean asks and his voice is so soft. He’s obviously embarrassed, but he also seems kinda afraid. Castiel swallows.

“Yeah uh sure.” Castiel at least sits down on the armchair and he’s not even sure if he is ready for a conversation himself, but Dean sits down on the couch, his face bright red and Castiel knows he has to assure Dean that everything is okay.

“Well as you know I kinda lost my second job, so Charlie had this idea where I would make money with pictures of myself and… yeah that’s what that was.” Dean rambles and Castiel needs a moment to understand what Dean is telling him.

He wants to tell Dean that he doesn’t have to justify himself to Castiel. Dean can do what he wants. Castiel opens his mouth but something different comes out.

“You get paid for that?” Castiel hopes he doesn’t sound like he’s judging Dean or anything.

“Have you ever heard of this site called onlyfans?” Dean asks and he is looking down at his hands. Castiel swallows dryly, because of course he had heard about that. Hell he had an account on that site.

Not because he takes pictures of himself, but he likes to look at other people, okay? He's a photographer, but he could still learn a thing or two.

“Yeah. Sounds cool. I mean if you like that and it pays well. I’m not judging you. It sounds fun.” Castiel almost cringes at his own words, but Dean seems a bit relieved, at least he is looking up again.

Castiel licks his lips.

“It does pay pretty well.” Dean says and they both have to smile at that. It is certainly no secret that Dean is absolutely stunning and Castiel knows he will never forget that picture about Dean in those panties.

“And you still got time to study.” Castiel says, because it does make sense. Posting a few pictures certainly doesn’t take as much time as working six to eight hours at the roadhouse a day.

“Yeah, so uh are we cool?” Dean asks and he’s so nervous again. He’s even putting his hand in his neck, which tells Castiel that Dean would rather end this conversation now. Castiel feels himself nodding.

“We are.” Castiel agrees and Dean sighs so relieved. Castiel gets up again, because he would really distract himself now and he kinda hopes Dean would start with their dinner.

“Good.” Dean nods to himself and he actually walks towards their kitchen.

Castiel isn’t sure what triggers it, but he opens his stupid mouth another time.

“Next time maybe hold your camera a little bit lower, it will capture the view on your panties a lot nicer.” Castiel says and Dean stops. For a moment it’s way too quiet in their apartment and Castiel feels like he should apologize.

Dean doesn’t turn around though.

“Maybe you should show me a few tricks next time.” Dean says and with that he’s already out of the door and a minute later Castiel can hear how he’s already starting to cook dinner.

Castiel swallows.

“I’d love to.”

*

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Dean says, even though he is alone in his room in front of his mirror. He’s wearing his grey robe, but that isn’t what makes him feel ridiculous.

Underneath he’s wearing dark green panties, which show off his ass and he can’t even hide his bulge in them. He’s even wearing a matching garter belt and stockings. He’d never worn something like that before.

Sure a few panties, because of his old high school girlfriend, who showed him how pretty they make him feel.

But this is more.

Dean had learned soon enough that his account got pretty popular and that mostly guys love to watch his short videos or dozen pictures. The comments are full of dirty lines and Dean has to say he likes the attention.

Today it’s different.

Today Castiel will take his pictures and to say that he is nervous, would be an understatement. His heart feels like it wants to jump out of his chest.

It’s even more embarrassing that he bought this outfit especially for Castiel. He doesn’t know they ended up here but Castiel will come inside any second by now and shoot Dean in this outfit.

“Dammit.” Dean mutters, because he would love for Castiel to find him beautiful in this. He’s pining for such a long time for Castiel by now and while he had understood that apparently Dean isn’t what Castiel wants, maybe today he can feel at least a bit wanted by him.

“Dean?”

Castiel knocks on his door and Dean nods to himself in the mirror before he tells Castiel that he can come in. Dean had even changed his bedsheet and put a few candles around the bed.

“Oh wow.” Castiel says when he sees the candles and Dean feels a bit proud. Castiel has his huge camera with him and Dean knows the quality of the photos will be so much better than anything his phone could produce.

“Yeah thought it would be a nice touch.” Dean says and he can see that Castiel is nodding. Dean chuckles a bit, because the whole situation is weird and embarrassing, but it’s also the hottest thing he’s ever done.

“Are you ready?” Castiel asks then and he is already checking a bunch of stuff on the camera. Dean schools his facial features and relaxes his shoulders.

“Yeah. Where do you want me?” Dean asks and only then realizes how that sounds. He can see that Castiel swallows and licks his lips and Dean’s dick - the damn traitor - jumps at that. Luckily he’s still in his robe.

“On the bed first.” Castiel answers and Dean can’t help but shudder at those words. Fuck, this sounds like they both mean something interely different. Something Dean would enjoy a lot more.

Dean lets the robe fall to his feet and Castiel’s eyes snap towards him. Dean almost wants to hide behind his hands, but instead he walks over to his bed and sinks down on the sheets.

“Fuck.” Castiel mutters under his breath, but Dean hears him anyway and he can’t help but smirk at that. Seems like Castiel does like his appearance at least. Dean doesn’t want to think about what that means.

So it’s what, Dean’s soul, that he hates?

Dean knows he’s not exactly relationship material with all his daddy issues and anger problems, but he tries. God, he would try so hard for Castiel.

“Maybe just start a few poses and I will see what I can do with those. After that I can give you a few directions, but I feel like you know exactly how you look good.” Castiel says and did his voice always sound so deep?

Dean tries to relax on the bed and spreads his legs a bit. He closes his eyes, because it’s easier. In most pictures his face isn’t seen and he wants this to stay that way. If it is in the picture, Dean is wearing a silky mask over half his face.

He puts the mask on now and then puts one hand on his cock, feeling already that he’s growing hard, just from Castiel watching.

“That’s good.” Castiel says quietly and starts to take a few pictures. Sometimes just of Dean’s lower part, how he’s touching himself so featherlight, sometimes from above him while Dean looks into the camera.

There is quiet music playing in Dean’s room, but all he can hear is his own heartbeat in his ears. Castiel looks like he wants to eat him alive and Dean can’t help the moan that escapes his lips.

Of course Castiel captures that moment.

“So fucking hot.” Castiel says and Dean arches his back a bit more, while Castiel kneels down at the side of the bed, to get a picture.

It doesn’t take long, before they both seem to relax and forgotten is all the shame and discomfort. Dean enjoys this a lot more than he should and he sucks lazily on his fingers, while Castiel groans.

Dean grins. Yeah he could get used to this. Before that it had been so awkward to take the pictures but this is fun.

“Spread your legs a bit more.” Castiel whispers and Dean obey happily. He’s fully hard by now, but those pictures always get him the most money anyway, so he wouldn’t complain.

It should be weird that Castiel sees him like this, but somehow it isn’t.

Dean rubs himself a bit and he can’t help but throw his head back, when precum leaks over his fingers and panties. He can see that Castiel is leaning over his hips now to capture that exact moment.

Probably doing a close-up of his dick. Dean groans.

Just then Castiel puts his own hand on Dean’s thigh. He squeezes and then takes a picture of that, Dean’s dick jerks and just like that he’s already coming.

Castiel doesn’t even bat an eyelash, he just continues to take a few pictures, his left hand still on Dean’s thigh.

“You look so gorgeous.” Castiel says and Dean’s face flushes from shame and excitement at the same time. Maybe even from the praise. Dean is breathing hard and he doesn’t really know what to answer.

He just came because his best friend had touched him. It’s not even an excuse that he’d been rubbing himself close to orgasm before. Shit.

“This better gets me a lot of money.” Dean says and Castiel nods slowly. He finally takes his hand away and looks through the pictures on his camera. Dean can’t really see if Castiel is hard himself, but it doesn’t look like it. He tries not to feel disappointed.

“I mean the pictures are amazing.” Castiel says and he doesn’t look up from his camera.

“Yeah perfect job for me, huh? I’ve always been sure that I’m good looking and that’s it.” Dean says and Castiel doesn’t seem to find that funny. No, he’s actually frowning at Dean. The head tilt will kill Dean one day.

“Don’t talk to yourself like that.” Castiel says and he’s actually angry. Now it’s Dean’s turn to frown back at him.

“We both know it’s true. Spare me the humiliation.” Dean says and he carefully gets up. He makes a face, because he hates the feeling of his wet panties sticking to his dick.

Castiel stops him though and Dean sits down on his bed once again. Castiel turns his camera around and shows Dean a picture of himself. It is pretty hot, but Dean doesn’t know what Castiel wants from him.

“What do you see?” Castiel asks and he shows him another picture. This one is just Dean’s face. His green eyes wide and he looks almost sweet. Had probably looked at Castiel while that had been taken.

Charlie always tells him how lovestruck he looks when Castiel is near.

“A hot guy?” Dean says slowly, because is that a trap?

Castiel’s frown grows heavier and Dean isn’t sure what he had said wrong. Castiel takes the camera back and then scrolls a bit longer through his pictures, before he shows it to Dean again.

This time it shows Dean studying at their couch table. Dean looks concentrated, biting down on his pencil. Castiel shows him the next picture. Dean obviously laughs at something in the picture and Dean shudders. That’s how he looks while laughing?

The next one is Dean eating and wow okay that’s even worse. Dean gets to know why Sammy complains about his table manners.

“Why are you showing me this? I know that on some days I’m not even hot.” Dean says, but Castiel shakes his head and his blue eyes look so sad.

“I wish you could see yourself like I’m seeing you.” Castiel says and Dean isn’t sure what he means by that. Dean at least puts his blanket over his lap, because he feels uncomfortable now.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean feels himself getting kinda angry.

“Dean, you are so much more than hot. Of course you are incredibly handsome and I know exactly while you got so many fans on your site. But to me you are everything. You are so hardworking and I don’t know anyone else who cares so much as you do. Nobody has a heart that big and it’s the reason why I fell so hard for you.” Castiel rambles and Dean can feel himself tearing up.

“What?”

“I love you, you damn idiot!” Castiel says and Dean is speechless, that is what he always wanted and now he doesn’t know what to answer.

“Sorry.” Castiel says and he packs his things. Dean finally gets up himself and takes the camera out of Castiel’s hand. They should probably talk about Castiel’s stalking in the last months, but Dean wants something different.

“Cas, I love you too. It’s… Cas it’s always been you. I thought I wasn’t worth enough, because I don’t have money and nor am I as smart as you are…” Dean starts but Castiel doesn’t want to hear it.

Castiel kisses him like he’s a starving man and Dean relaxes into his arms. This is what he had always wanted. Castiel tilts his head a bit and just like that the kiss gets even better. Dean whines quietly, when Castiel breaks it.

“Do you seriously think I care about money? Dean you are the most selfless person I’ve ever met and don’t get me started on your nerdy side. It’s adorable.” Castiel says and he’s smiling so prettily.

Dean steals another kiss.

“You’re incredible, you know that? Why did you never say something?” Dean asks and Castiel shrugs a bit embarrassed.

“I was also very sure that you don’t like me. You kinda killed me with your outfit today.” Castiel admits and Dean gives him his camera back.

“Wanna take some more pictures?” Dean asks and he smirks at Castiel, who actually pushes him on the bed. Dean grins up at Castiel anway.

“Oh sweetheart. I got other plans.”

Dean doesn’t mind.

#destiel fanfic #destiel #destiel writing #my writing #deancas

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.

Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.

UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.

•

Of Ice and Blood

Part 1

Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.

It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.

When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.

Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.

Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.

She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.

Selkoth, the city of marvels.

Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.

[Start of the actual work]

I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.

Monday, the first day of my college life.

I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.

Time management is key.

I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.

Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?

I looked over to my mirror and it was—

Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.

'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.

"Yes mama, I will.”

With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.

I eat fast okay

Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.

Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?

I snickered.

As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.

My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!

I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.

Dramatic.

Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.

The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.

I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.

They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.

Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.

I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.

High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.

But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.

Which is kinda problematic.

I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.

Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.

Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.

I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.

I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.

*************************************

The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.

Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?

We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!

I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.

Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.

That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.

I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.

He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.

Beautiful.

The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.

I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.

“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.

Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.

Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.

Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.

I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.

There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.

"Are you...alright?"

I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.

“Uh…yes?”

The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.

“You were pushed earlier.”

Oh. He saw that?

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.

“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.

He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.

“Tai'chi.”

Interesting.

“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”

He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.

“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."

***************************************

Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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#orc x reader #orc #orc x human #orc lover #my writing #monster lover #monster x reader #fem!reader #monster x human #minotaur #elf #pixie #dwarf #lizardfolk #fantasy #bamf!fem reader #bamf!human #fiction writing #I'm so cranky and rusty #knuckle dusters or brass knuckles? #nunchucks #hoodies are the best #exophilia #monster boyfriend #original work #terato #orc boyfriend #art

[sapphire374]

A Pleasant but Spontaneous Encounter

"I know we're supposed to be just roommates but you just look too damn cute in the morning and now I can't seem to get you out of my mind."

Wattpad Link 

Nina strongly grasped the paper that had written her room number for the year. Even Though, she arrived early meaning she had yet to find out who she was rooming with. Her nerves were truly at its peak when she discovered while walking into campus that the council decided to pair the girls rooms with the boys rooms. Boys… in the same dorm hallway. She already felt scared starting the new year at Oxford but now she feels uncomfortable knowing there was going to be adult males too. She wondered “what if it’s the guys who host those massive overnight parties. How on earth would I be able to study if people next door are partying all night long.” Nina had jumped into a spiral of thoughts by just overthinking everything. 

Once she arrived at her room she had the pleasure of choosing which bed she wanted since her roommate hadn’t arrived yet. She unclasped her luggage after setting it on top of the trunk and began to store her belongings in drawers, shelves and any other kind of available space in her side of the room. 

Knock-knock. Nina heard as she was hanging up her shirts in the closet. Must be her new roommate. “I’m coming,” Nina hurried as she went to the door. She’s been waiting, wanting to anxiously know who she was going to spend all year with. She grasped the door knob, turned it, and opened the door to a revealing surprise. “Gaston?!”

Both, Gaston and Nina stood there in shock looking at one another. “Nina!… Well it’s nice to see you again but how were you able to find my room and enter it. Don’t get me wrong it’s a pleasure to see you again but this feels a little creepy even though I know I’m hard to forget.”

Nina let out a small frown at his words and replied with “Gaston you really think I would do something like that. I don’t know if this is another one of your jokes but this is my room. Even though they have combined girl rooms with boy rooms in the same hallway  doesn’t mean they get to share the same rooms. Girls with girls, boys with boys.”

Gaston scratches his head and glances at his paper again. “But Nina this is my room, 2774.” 

Nina walks to her dresser, grabs her yellow slip and reads out loud “2774, how odd that’s the same number I got. We need to go speak to the director, this must be a mistake.”

Gaston is now smirking in front of Nina while she wears a questionable look towards his expressions. “Maybe we don’t have to fix this mistake. Maybe we can stay roommates and catch up on what we’ve missed. Maybe this is fate that has brought us here Nina.” 

Nina now choking on her words says, “No no no Gaston, we can’t. We would get in big trouble if I don’t say anything about this and I cannot get in trouble on my first day already. Plus it would seem fishy if they saw a boy in a year after me in the same dorm room as I am. We can always hang out and even catch up outside of the dorm but I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Gaston now making a sullen look replies with “You’re right. We should go.”

“Sorry if I seem like a buzzkill. I’m happy we met but I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.”

“Yeah me neither.”

~~~

“What do you mean we’re going to be roommates for the week. Isn’t that against the rules?” Gaston asked. “Yes it is but we’ve already implemented a system for the roommates which means all of the other rooms are taken. We’re now going to have to wait for when a spot opens up. My deepest apologies for the whole mixup by the way. Don’t worry too much though, this problem should be fixed by the end of the week,” the dean of the campus reassured them. But what if Gaston didn’t want the issue to be fixed anytime soon, what if he does want to be Nina’s roommate. Gaston’s already imagining all of the possibilities of him being able to rekindle his romance with Nina.

Wait a second. A doubt, a fearful thought entered his brain and now it can’t get out. What if Nina is still with Eric? Could that be why she didn’t want to be his roommate, could that be why she tried to brush him off and didn’t seem so excited to see him at her doorstep. Heck she didn’t even give him a hug. 

Throughout the whole meeting he couldn’t help but stare at Nina a few times. Oh how he missed her so much. The way she shuffled her feet when the room was quiet, the way how she tightly held her book in her hand whenever she was nervous, and the way how she barely spoke in conversations, overthinking what to say next. 

Seeing her reaction to the news was a scary delight to see. Gaston saw Nina’s face easily turn red when she glanced at Gaston for a few seconds. Did she hate the idea of rooming with Gaston because she doesn’t like him anymore? Gaston would just love to be a mind reader right now.

They both got up from their chairs and left the office. “So I guess I have to unpack my bags…. In our room,” Gaston breaking the five minute long silence whilst scratching his head in the awkward environment.

“I guess so. I will say though that I call dibs on an extra drawer just so I can have space for my books.”

Gaston couldn’t help but chuckle at Nina’s statement, at how Nina hasn’t changed who she was. 

“Gaston it’s not funny, you know I like to keep my books organized into different categories. Ones I haven’t read, ones I want to reread, and ones I’ve already finished but not planning to reread them anytime soon.” Nina couldn't help but giggle as well. Now Nina and Gaston were both giggling.

~~~

All day Nina tried avoiding Gaston. When she was in the library, she tried to fixate her focus into her textbooks and ignore the not so subtle glances Gaston would throw. Oh how she wishes she can have long conversations and tell him exactly how she feels, but that’s the thing she can’t. Whenever she just thinks of the idea, she chokes. Chokes and not a single word can come out afterward. She thought she has finally grown to be more confident and speak to others but with Gaston around, all of the development feels like it never happened. Before she used to feel very comfortable talking to him and now it feels like the first day she met him, scary and nerve-wracking.

While he wasn’t looking, she couldn’t help but stare and wonder how lucky fate has been to her this very moment. She finally got to see him like she has always hoped. Deep down inside, she’s never stopped loving Gaston no matter what. Just about five months ago, she finalized her decision to break up with Eric. She told him the truth, how she’s still not over Gaston. She thought she had feelings for Eric and she did but only as a friend. She pushed herself to date him thinking it would erase the pain she would feel thinking she would never see Gaston again but not even a sliver of that feeling went away.

Now she’s here. Sitting in a vintage, brown chair while reading her newest textbook in the dull lighting of this library. Great, now she can’t stop thinking about him and has lost all concentration in her homework. She puts her hand on her face in frustration. “Why do you have to take over mind Gaston,” she thinks to herself. Honestly, when she applied to Oxford she wasn’t expecting her first encounter with Gaston to be like this. She assumed she would have some time to put herself together and have the guts to have an actual conversation with him. But instead she barely spoke to him today as if she wanted to ignore him and even gave out signs of being uptight. That’s the thing though, she isn’t like that at all. Her shyness and the spontaneous encounter of him took her by surprise. While already having first day of university stress, she now has past love stress. 

She wonders what he must be thinking now. “Does he hate me? Does he not love me anymore? Am I everything he wasn’t expecting me to be? Does he want to be friends? Does he want to be more than just friends? Is he even single” She face palms herself again and is getting really annoyed now at her overthinking and spiral of thoughts getting out of control.

Gaston notices at the other end of the library Nina’s frustration. Automatically he’s worried and is about to step out of his chair till another doubt reaches his mind. “Wait maybe this isn’t a good idea. I don’t want to force her to like me again or seem clingy,” he assumes. He sits back down onto his chair. 

A group of guys head over to Gaston. Only one of them seems to be carrying books in their hand while the others are carrying backpacks.

 “Hey Gaston. Have you heard of the party that Sara is hosting today. It’s going to be sick,” the guy with the letterman jacket said.

“That seems nice,” Gaston replied

“Are you coming? I heard a lot of people are going to be there.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll go today. It’s the first day and I don’t want to ruin my already messed up sleeping schedule.”

“Oh but c’mon it’ll be the first one of the year. You can’t just miss the first one. Plus I heard a lot of girls will be there too,” the guy then gave Gaston a wink after this statement. 

Gaston then looks over to Nina. She immediately dropped her head down to her books. He noticed and couldn’t help but fall in love at how that reminds him of the looks they would share to each other when they were at the Jam and Roller together. 

“Sorry but I can’t today, maybe some other time,” Gaston stated.

“Ok, your loss dude.” The group of guys then headed straight out the door. 

Nina grew a little worried. She liked knowing now that he is single but she wonders whether he even wants to be with her again. All day it has felt like a battle of who can ignore each other better. She picks up her textbooks, slides them into her open backpack, zips it, and gets out of her chair to leave the library. She can’t concentrate having Gaston very far but also very close to her in one large room. 

When Nina heads straight to the door, Gaston does too. He runs over her and says, “No, Nina, wait.” She turns over. Now Gaston is tongue tied and didn’t think through exactly what he was going to say to her. “Uhh… see you later..” Nina waves a bye to him back and leaves with a confused look on her face. Gaston can’t help but feel stupid, creating a huge fuss all to just tell her in the end “see you later.” 

Gaston hurriedly grabs his backpack and exits the building too. He thinks of the best idea he possibly can at a time like this, and that’s to call Matteo. He takes his phone out of his pocket, types the name and places it near his ear. “Hi Gaston. I wasn’t expecting you to call me today. What’s the matter?” Matteo asks.

“Nina is here. I’m happy that she is but everytime I try to talk to her I forget the words and how to speak.”

Matteo laughs on the other end. “Oh wow no hi Matteo. Good afternoon to you too.Well anyways, you both truly are made for each other. Just be honest with her, plus she probably feels the same way you do.”

“I have tried but I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to come on strong but I don’t want to sound annoying either.”

“You’re overthinking this too much, this is Nina we’re talking here. She already knows you and wouldn’t think of you like that.” 

Gaston thought about it for a second and answered, “Yeah I guess but we hadn’t seen each other in a long time and things can change you know.”

“True but from what I’ve seen the last time I met her she’s still the same Nina you fell in love with before. Maybe this time less afraid to speak her mind, cause of what happened with Gary.”

“Tonight I shall try to talk to her. Maybe we can start out being friends and go from there. I just really miss her laugh, our conversations together, and her smile. This whole day I’ve barely seen her smile. I miss it.”

“That’s a good start. Don’t forget to tell me how it goes ok. Good luck hermano.”

“Bye Matteo. Don’t worry I will.”

~~~

It was 9pm and Nina was already in her pajamas sitting all cozy in her bed while reading a book. Today she was wearing a black and beige nightgown. Gaston had just gotten out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth. He headed towards his bed as well whilst stealing glances towards Nina. He went under the covers and positioned his pillow to fall asleep. Before he laid down, he decided to tell Nina something. He would try to have the conversation he told Matteo about but sadly he can’t seem to think of anything to say. Nonetheless the convo ended quickly and barely went out as planned. “Goodnight Nina. Uh I hope you had a nice day today.”

Nina took her focus away from her book and said, “Yes I did. Thanks for asking. How did your day go?”

“It went decent I guess.”

“That’s nice. Goodnight to you too.”

Gaston then tried to fall asleep. Nina held her book but hasn’t read a sentence after their short lived conversation. She stared at the way Gaston slept. It was so peaceful, as if all the stars were aligned with each other. A portrait she would never want to forget. “What am I thinking. I still can't be in love with Gaston. He barely notices me or even talks to me. I have to forget about him,” Nina overthinks again. She places her book on top of her nightstand with her glasses and tries to fall asleep through the night.

After two hours have passed, Nina seems to be having a nightmare. She tosses and turns consistently in her bed. Gaston slowly opens his eyes. The noise of the sheets moving rapidly woke him up. He sees Nina scared with almost tears in her eyes. He rushes over to Nina and gently wakes her up sitting at the side of her bed. “Nina it’s ok, it’s ok I’m here.” Nina’s eyes begin to flutter and she uncontrollably takes a hold of Gaston’s hand. An electric shock rushed over both of their spines. They touched. 

“It’s ok Nina. You were having a bad dream. You’re going to be fine. I’m here and I’m not going to leave ok.” Gaston’s voice of reassurance made Nina feel much better. They couldn’t stop looking into each other’s eyes. She breaks the stare by rushing into a hug. He softly strokes his hand on her back. She then lays her head on his shoulders. 

“Look Nina there’s something I need to tell you.”

Nina breaks out of his warm embrace. “Gaston there’s something I still need to tell you too.”

“I’ve missed you so much Nina. More than you can possibly think. I thought us breaking up would be the best so that you wouldn’t feel tied to me and have to suffer having a boyfriend who was far away and can rarely visit. Also, especially with starting out school and having to frequently study, barely having time for you, which was not what you deserved, I thought at the time it was the right decision to make.”

“Gaston I’ve missed you so much too. More than you could think of. I remember there were even days where I cried just looking at a trinket from our past. Like that book you lent me that was your favorite. It has all of the notes of the lines that you said reminded you of me. I even take it everywhere I go no matter what. I was so hurt from the breakup, I thought dating somebody else would help erase the pain and make me even forget about it. Not about us since I will always remember you but make me feel better. In the beginning it did till I realized that the relationship I had with you could never be recreated with some other guy. And when I noticed my feelings for you were still existent and even stronger I knew I had to break up with him. I wasn’t ready to have another boyfriend yet.”

Gaston couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Nina is single…. And still potentially loves him. “Nina I still till this day have feelings for you. Whenever I felt stressed or depressed I would always look back into your Felicity account and read your posts. They always gave me that extra dose of strength I needed for the day. I always kept track of whenever you posted for Amigos De Patin. Reading your incredible entries made me feel so lucky to have met you and have had a wonderful girlfriend like you. I always carry around with me too that red bracelet that kept us united like the sea. Remember that ribbon I sent you and how I told you it reminded me of us being like the sea. How far we may be but someday it’s waves will meet up again. How our love lives in the ocean. I never got rid of it. I always wear it on my wrist.”

Nina cupped her mouth with shock. “Gaston I do too. I still keep that ribbon and take it everywhere I go. In fact I keep it in a special place.” She grabs her book off her nightstand and takes out a bookmark. In the clear plastic is the red ribbon. “I always take it with me wherever I go too.”

“Nina don’t you get it. This is maybe destiny. Like the poem of the sea how someday we would meet up again if our love is meant to be. Nina I never stopped loving you.”

Nina then had a tear slide down her cheek. “Gaston I never stopped loving you too.”

Gaston wipes the tear off Nina’s face and has his lips meet with hers. He caressed her cheek while she held his arms. This felt surreal to the both of them. They couldn’t believe they got to meet each other again. Their love was held by the big body of water between them and chose now to bring them back together. Gaston and Nina knew deep down inside that they were meant to be.

#soy luna #soy luna fanfic #soy luna fic week #soy luna ficweek #soy luna fic #gastina #sl nina #sl gastina #nina simonetti #Gaston perida #a pleasant but spontaneous encounter #gastina fanfic #soy luna wattpad #sl Wattpad #soy luna one shot #soy luna one shots

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH01

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, a little implied smut and a dash of angst for good measure.

WC: 2111

A/N: This is it. This is the start to the life after. I hope you enjoy reading. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

They had stayed the weekend in the house and moved in a week later, but Dean didn’t sell his building, and didn't rent out his apartment either. Although he wanted to get out of his former life, the apartment worked as a stepping stone to where he is now. He couldn’t part from it, no matter how hard he might have wanted to (which is not very hard, he has to admit). 

Y/N said he’s too sentimental and yeah, maybe he is. After all, the great thing they have now, the love that built throughout their relationship, it all started in that very apartment, and he likes to keep it as a memento, finds some kind of weird solace in it, which she thinks it’s creepy, but she doesn’t protest, because he knows for a fact that she thinks the same. So, he guesses, that they’re both creeps in a way. It takes one to know one. It takes one to love one, either. 

He also reckons that they could use it as a city resident. Not that he has any business in the city anymore, wouldn’t even want to anyway, but he never knows, right? It certainly doesn’t hurt him in any way, shape or form to keep the building — and the apartment for that matter — so he leaves everything as it is. He didn’t change anything in the papers either, just to be extra sure for when his old life comes knocking. 

Dean has to make sure to not leave any trails, because even if he’s out, there are still people who are butthurt he screwed them over (even though they all deserved it) and who knows when they’ll realize it and would come after him. Better safe than sorry and Dean needs to always be a step ahead. That’s how he got here in the first place. 

He likes to have control over his life. Feels the need to control every aspect of it, and it scares him shitless that even though he made it this far, there are things that are out of his control. Like Y/N for example, or the baby. It frightens him as much as it reassures him. It’s weird, he knows, but he has no control over his own feelings either, not when he’s with her.

The new house is bought and registered under the name of the trust fund he set up a couple of days before he bought it. Nobody knows about it, not even Sam, although Sammy would give him hell if he knew because he’d be bummed Dean didn’t go to him in the first place but Dean couldn’t take that chance. There’s always a possibility that someone will come knocking and he’d rather Sam doesn’t know about anything at all. He’d rather, if worse come to worst, Sammy wouldn’t have to decide over his own life or Dean’s.

He had also made sure that the new house has proper security. It’s weird, Dean thinks. Even though he wants to leave his old life behind, it sticks like gum to the soles of his shoes. There’s no way that he’s going to shake it off completely, so the best thing he can do is to look forward and work with the means he has. It’s crazy what money can buy and Dean’s not shying away from using it because if he wouldn’t use it for that what’s really the point of having so much. They really don’t need a lot to get by. Dean has more money than he’ll ever be needing.

Now, with a baby on its way, Dean thinks about his future more thoroughly. Occasionally wondering what he will tell his kid once it’s old enough to ask questions. Questions on how they met (that one is easy: a bar, she was a barmaid, he was a regular customer), questions of what he does for a living (that one is a little harder to answer), why they both don’t work (Dean hopes that by that time his child could question that, he and Y/N would both be working again, not really what he did before, but just something to pass the time). They take it one day at a time though. He’s anxious enough as it is at the moment. 

One thing that Dean never thought that he would get, though, is a dog. Never in a million years. Well, to be fair, he also never thought that he’d be getting a cat and ended up with two at one point. They adopted a puppy. A Belgian Shepherd, because Dean had the protection of his family in mind, too. The dog is loyal right from the start and he’s actually Dean’s dog, like Bubbles is her cat. 

Dean’s the one who takes care of the dog, goes out for walks, trains him, goes to obedience school, picks up his poo, feeds him. But even if Dean is the one who’s doing all of this, the dog still likes Y/N more because he goes to her for cuddles. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong, seriously. Dean gets it though, she’s his favorite person too, doesn’t blame the animals for one bit, is only a little annoyed when they’re all lying on the sofa cuddling and there’s no room left for him.

Maybe though, maybe he should not let Y/N name the animals around this house anymore either. For some unknown reasons, she started to call him Truffles and the dog fucking listened to her. Dean tried to counter it with Hulk but all he got from the dog was a glare and if the dog could raise an eyebrow, he would have. It is not really fucking fair but he get what he gets, right?

She joked once that Truffles is somehow like Dean. All tough and angry looking on the outside but deep down, he’s just a cinnamon roll. Dean doesn’t agree. 

So now, they are living in a house with Bubbles and Truffles and there’s a baby on its way. If five years ago, someone would have told him that his future would look like this, he’d be laughing them straight in the face, maybe beat them up for talking bullshit, just because he could. Joke’s on him.

Y/N’s working in her art room since she woke up this morning. She’s finished with painting the walls and is now decorating and maybe she’s already painting something. He wouldn’t know, because he hasn’t seen her since they woke up together. Hasn’t seen her since he made her come on his cock and they took a shower together after. The carpenter showed up while he was still showering and he had to get out quick and left her behind. 

They are exchanging the flooring of their terrace and now Dean’s helping him because it’s faster that way. 

Dean walked around on the terrace three days ago but then he took a step on rotten wood, which saw his leg being eaten up by the flooring. Y/N had to come help him out but of course not without taking a picture first. She had to take a couple too because her hands were shaking from all the laughing. It’s her home screen now and he hates it. 

So, he had to call in a carpenter because if Dean has to do all of that on his own either, he’ll never be finished on time. And by on time, he means by the time the baby comes, which according to google MD should be next Spring but he’d rather have everything in place already before Winter arrives.

They don’t know the exact due date because they haven’t been in for an ultrasound yet, it would be too early to see anything now, she told him, but she has made an appointment in two weeks time, so they’re both pretty excited for that. Excited might not be the right word. Panicked, terrified, frightened might fit better.

He heard a lot about morning sicknesses and he thought that she’d have it too at first because she felt nauseous to the point that she has to throw up the vitamins she’s been taking since she knew about the pregnancy. Turns out, she should maybe not have taken them on an empty stomach. Lessons learned. 

***

They’re at her OB/GYN, which was a recommendation from Anna, and Dean walks around in the tiny space while she lies there and waits for the doctor to arrive. 

There’s a big poster hanging on a wall where they show the different stages of pregnancy and Dean’s looking at that. When he reaches the last stage, he starts to sweat even more, feels a little light headed and maybe he feels nauseous too, wouldn’t want to admit it though, so he swallows down his feelings.

He’s nervous, and was sweating bullets already on his way here. Y/N had to hold his hand the whole time while he drove. And it’s stupid, really. He’s a big guy, a big bad guy, and he really shouldn’t be nervous about an ultrasound, right? Right.

“Dean,” 

“Huh?” He blinks awake from his daydream. Or is it called daymares? Because he didn’t have one good thought when he zoned out.

“My god, I have been calling you twice already.”

“‘M sorry,” He mumbles and walks over to her, sits on the stool next to the examination bed. She takes his hand, squeezes it and he leans down, kisses her forehead, “Just really nervous.”

“I should be nervous. They will ram a dick shaped ultrasound stick into my pussy not yours.”

“They what?” Dean braces his elbows on the examination bed, his hand still holding hers. “I thought the ultrasound will be made on your belly,” Because he remembers seeing pictures and videos of women with big belly’s getting gels applied on their stomach.

“Yeah, I thought so too.” Y/N says, “But they informed me after I gave them my pee example.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Dean chuckles, it’s hard not to, but then he leans over to peck her lips.

“I’d rather get dicked down by your cock than an ultrasound stick, to be honest.”

Dean snorts out a laugh because at the exact moment she said it, the doctor opens the door to the room and steps in.

The doctor explains everything to them and now Dean’s even more nervous as he sits with her, his hands are sweating and he feels little droplets of sweats on his forehead, is afraid to brush at them because the doctor would think that he’s a fucking wimp.  

Finally the time comes where the doctor sticks the stick up her vagina and she flinches, while Dean tries to ease out the crease between her eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. Dean should not get aroused by the thought of something dick shaped going into her, but he does, which is really absolutely stupid and immature of him.

They both have their eyes on the screen but all they see is black and occasionally there’s a white blotch. The doctor goes deeper and Y/N flinches again while Dean tries to think of something super unsexy.

“There you go,” The doctor smirks and Dean squints his eyes, tries to make out fucking something. 

And then it hits him like a freight train because the doctor turns up the speaker volume and Dean not only sees it, but also hears it. A nervous thudding sound. The same pace as that white little thing flickering on the screen.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat.” The doctor says and Dean thinks he’s never heard a sentence more beautiful than this one, maybe except when Y/N’s begging for him to spank her harder, or to choke her or all the things she says in bed, really. But this sentence, uttered from a complete stranger right now, is a whole other level of beautiful. It fills him with pride, with joy, with something he classifies as hope.

Y/N’s tears pool around at the corner of her eyes and it runs down the side of her face, over her cheeks. Dean brushes it away with his thumb, and she looks at him then. There’s a smile on her face but also he can see that she’s scared because it makes everything more real now with knowing that there’s another heart beating below her own. 

He’s teary too, can’t hide it anymore but doesn’t want to cry in a doctor's office though, so he swallows it down, kisses her instead, makes his face wet with her tears to cover his own. 

CH02

#sky full of stars #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x reader #nathalie writes

[anathewierdo]

Waiting for Roses

Pairing: Dean x Reader... kind of 😏

Summary: Fridays are special. He waits for her on Fridays... and he waits for her with roses.

Warnings: mention of major character death, Dean’s daughter being cute and sad, Daddy!Dean, overall bittersweet sadness :)

Word count: 2.1K

Extra notes: Dean has a daughter here. Her name is Joanna. He calls her Jo or Joey. Also, I didn’t describe a lot of Jo and Y/N because I want you, the reader, to imagine yourself and the little girl in whatever shape or form you want. Dean loves you both with all he has.

This fic is based on the song “Rosas” by La Oreja de Van Gogh. You can listen to it here!  

So, this is my first angsty one-shot here... and if I may say so, I’m pretty proud of it! I hope you guys like it! :D

Special thanks to @percywinchester27, @flamencodiva and @superfanficnatural for beta’ing this little fic. I cannot thank you enough <3

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He’s done the same damn thing every Friday for years now and he’ll do it for years to come. Though, there is a rare occasion when he doesn’t follow through with it, and it’s more likely for him to have no plans on a Friday evening because of this little thing. It’s incredibly stupid (he always takes that thought back) and some days he finds himself swearing that this Friday would be the last, that he should’ve stopped doing this a long ago, but fuck it. It’s more of a tradition now rather than a bitter memory. 

A young girl is sitting beside him on the park bench, a bouquet of pink roses lying on her lap. She looks at the matching bouquet of roses in her father’s hands as the people in the park come and go on this particular grey friday. She’s wearing small jeans, a colorful shirt and a pair of light-up tennis shoes that took months of begging on her part, until he gave in and bought them.

“Dad, can we play now?”

Dean takes a deep breath as he takes in the question, eyeing the now almost empty park in front of them. He has to admit, ever since Jo asked him to take her with him on his Friday outings, they’ve become a little less sad, a little less heartbroken and a lot more, dare he say, enjoyable.

He knows how much his daughter likes their Fridays now. She’s made sure that he does more than sit on this very same bench, with no other company than his spiraling thoughts, every fucking Friday until it’s time for the next destination. So he turns to look at her, takes the roses gently from her hands and lays both bouquets down on the bench before he smiles complicitly, “Pit stop at the swings?”

Joanna Winchester wastes no time in dashing out of the bench, “Last one to get there is a rotten egg!” she screams back at him.

Dean has to fight a knot that begins to form in his throat at her little taunt. So much like her mother.

The one thing he can still do at the moment is run, so he does. Dean screams exaggeratedly and loudly, telling his daughter, ‘it’s not fair! You're too fast and I’m too old for this!’ 

Her giggles in response are music to his ears.

Dean groans in defeat once more as he watches her take a seat in a swing and wave her arms and legs in a little dance, whooping and claiming victory.

He makes a show of falling to the ground, holding a hand to his chest and panting, “One day I’m gonna win, bug. Mark my words.”

Joanna giggles again, teasing him about being a sore loser. 

They spend the next hour playing and goofing around the park. Both Winchesters keep looking back at their bench, making sure the roses are still there, beautiful and unharmed.

“Dad, can we go to Mom now?”

Her father stops dead in his tracks as the laugh dies right away. With a quick look at his watch, Dean nods, “Yup, time to go to Mom, bean.”

Bouquets in hand, they start walking out of the park and towards Baby. As soon as Jo has her seatbelt on, they’re out of there.

Dean checks on her every few seconds. She’s caressing the roses delicately, even playing with a few of the petals to open them up a little bit more. She has questions. He braces himself for a bomb.

“Dad, why do we always sit on that bench?”

“What bench?”

“The one at the park. Our bench.”

He has to clear his throat a couple of times as the memories flood back, “That’s where Mommy and I used to meet. For our dates.”

“Really?” her little eyes widened in wonder.

“Uh-huh,” he confirms. “I used to wait for her right on that bench with roses ready for her. Every time. We liked to go out on Fridays.”

Joanna stares down at the roses in silence for the next few moments. The next time he looks into the rearview mirror, his little bug is sniffling and he catches sight of a little droplet falling down her face, “But then Mommy had to go,” she sniffles.

“Mommy had to go,” he croaks in agreement. “But, she loves her roses. And I like waiting for her.”

“You don’t hate that I come with you?”

“Joey, there is nothing that could be better than waiting for Mommy with you.”

“Okay,” another sniffle.

“Bug, look at me,” he pleads softly, giving his daughter his best smile once she does. “I love you very, very, very much, alright? And there is nothing I would rather do than be with my wonderful little ladybug.” Dean takes the last turn, getting into the parking lot of the cemetery. With trembling hands, he kills the engine, takes his bouquet and gets out of the car to help Jo out of the backseat. As she steps out, he gives her a big hug, careful to not ruin her bouquet, “Okie dokie, Joey?” he mumbled to her ear.

Her little fist tightens in his shirt as a trembling and small ‘okie dokie, Dad’ is mumbled back. 

They stay there for a few more seconds, clinging to each other with all their strength before stepping away to look at the gate that leads to the graveyard. Taking a hold of Jo’s free hand, Dean smiles down at her as tears begin to run down his face.

“Let’s go, bug. We can’t miss Mommy’s birthday.”

It’s fairly easy to spot that particular grave. It’s unmissable to both of them by now; the path is so familiar that they could find it blind. The funeral was the second worst day of his life, with a trembling six year old Jo clinging to him as she cried, an uncharacteristically quiet Sam, a crying Castiel and the few friends (more like family) they had left. He’d fought tooth and nail to not give her a hunter’s funeral. 

Burning her was a point of no return and he couldn’t imagine how he’d live knowing that he’d completely closed the door on the possibility of her coming back. Back then, he’d reasoned that if she ever came back, (if he found a way to do it) she’d need her body.

But no demon ever agreed to bargain, no matter what he did. Angels were dicks, like always. Billie had gone on about balance and how the Winchesters couldn’t go around avoiding death forever, no matter how much she’d respected Y/N back when she still breathed. Rowena, Castiel and even the Winchester brothers themselves couldn’t find a spell strong enough to bring her back (or maybe Dean hadn’t been told if they ever did). She was gone. After two years, he still wasn’t okay with that, but fuck if he hadn’t learned to brace himself and be there for Joey.

Dean feels Jo squeeze his hand tighter when they’re only a few feet away from it. Her grave is simple, typical gray stone engraved with a name, a date and a quote in front of a large patch of grass where the coffin had gone down. There used to only be one vase for the roses he brought in weekly, but a second one had been added after Joanna began to ask her father to let her buy Mommy flowers, too.

They dust away any leaves or dirt that may have made its way onto the stone. Dean takes out the now dead roses from last Friday before setting the new flowers on the vases either side of the grave and sitting next to each other in front of it. Dean lays one arm across his daughter’s shoulders and takes a hold of one of her hands with the other. 

“Happy birthday, honey,” he croaks.

Joey has begun to sniffle again beside him, “Happy birthday, Mommy.” 

Dean screws his eyes shut at the way her voice cracks and turns to kiss the top of her hair, whispering how he’s here and mommy’s here as well, and that it’s okay, before looking at the stone one more time. 

“We got you your favorites,” he smiles softly. “Most beautiful roses we could find. Joey thought you would be in a mood for pink roses.”

“I’ll try to find white ones next time,” the girl promised.

“I’m sure she’ll love them,” he chuckled sadly. “We miss you, babe. A lot… but we are doing good lately, don’t worry. Joey’s doing great at school. You’d be so proud of our little ladybug; she’s super smart. Like, super duper smart. Just like you. We learned how to properly bake cakes a few days ago, so we can surprise uncle Sammy next year on his birthday,” a little poke on his stomach has him rolling his eyes playfully, though the tears won’t stop coming. “Alright, and so we can also bake Joey’s birthday cake in a few months instead of buying it from ‘the creepy lady’ bakery.”

The kid is quick to defend herself, “I don’t like how she always grabs my cheeks!” she complains. “Dad and I had a flour fight when we made cakes. He even let me watch the Lord of the Rings!”

“She loved it, by the way. I’m telling ya, our kid is super awesome!”

The talks are the best part of every Friday most of the time. Both Winchesters get wrapped up in whatever ducktales they had during the week, or plans and aches and such and they tell her everything about them. Sometimes they stay for hours, sometimes mere minutes, but they visit most Fridays without fail. If they really try, it feels like she never really left. Dean can still hear her laughter, her jokes and puns and all the love she used to give him and their daughter. Joanna told him once that sometimes she gets scared because she can’t remember her clearly, but he’s quick to solve that with a quick trip to the living room in their house –where the photo album lives– and as many anecdotes he can tell her about.

They stay by her side for about half an hour. 

Reluctantly, they get up and once again, they tell her they love and miss her. Dean promises they’ll be back next Friday and Jo is quick to confirm it. By the time they’re back in Baby, both Winchesters’ smiles are not so wobbly, not so sad. 

Halfway home, Jo breaks the comfortable silence, “You really think mom would be proud of me?”

“Oh ladybug,” he huffs. “I know so. She’d be incredibly proud of you.”

When they get home, Dean feels lighter and he knows his ladybug is feeling better, too. 

Fridays are special.

So he claps his hands together and proposes a movie marathon, followed by board games tomorrow morning. Jo’s excitement at the sole mention of the plan has him taking out popcorn and setting it in the microwave. She runs to the living room to pick out the movies they’re watching and get some blankets as well as changing into her pajamas.

Treacherous thoughts begin to invade his head: how he misses Y/N, how he wishes she could enjoy Fridays like always. All the big and little things that used to make this house a home (they couldn’t risk anything supernatural happening to Jo). Dean shakes his head. No. She is gone, but this house is still a home and their family is still loving.

Hunting is thousands of miles behind him; something he never thought could be possible. Joey will grow up. More important than that, he’ll be there for their daughter. He’ll do whatever he can to make sure she has a future and he’ll do it for Y/N, because if she can’t see it then damn it, he’ll be there to raise their little lady bug.

As the microwave lets him know the popcorn is ready, he makes his way to the couch in front of the TV, and Dean finds peace. He can do this. He’ll wait for as many Fridays as he can, with roses in his hands and love in his heart and all the cheesy things Y/N used to love.

He’ll wait to see his wife again even if it means it’ll take decades for that to happen. 

Dean passes the popcorn over to Jo as the opening credits for The Princess and the Frog begin and he lays an arm over the back of the couch. 

He has hope that next Friday will be good as well.

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I really hope y’all liked it! Please lemme know what you think, whether it’s with a reblog, an ask, everything and anything is welcome! :D

Tags: @katehuntington @winchest09 @emoryhemsworth @talesmaniac89 @whatareyousearchingfordean @deanwanddamons @maximumkillshot @malfoysqueen14 @flamencodiva @superfanficnatural @percywinchester27​

#dean x reader #dean winchester angst #dean angst #deanxreader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fandom #supernatural fandom

[fanfic-corner]

Sabriel

I genuinely have no idea where this ship came from, but it is pretty cute, and I was curious to read a couple fics of them. Besides, I’m currently on season 13 and we deserve more Gabriel content in this time of stress. All of these also have Destiel in them, but which one the fic is focused on varies. I hope you enjoy them!

Rewriting the Book by MonPetitTresor on AO3. (37,224 words).

Tags: Dimension Travel, Alternate Universe, Gabriel in the Bunker, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sam Remembers Hell, PTSD, Post-Gadreel, Mark of Cain, Hurt Sam, Scared Sam, Emotionally Repressed, Sam Has Panic Attacks, The Cage.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: When Sam gets a little too close to stopping Metatron’s plans, the angel decides to use some of his extra juice to get Sam out of his way by sending him to a completely different reality. He never could’ve predicted what Sam might find there – or what he might bring back home with him.

Notes: The trauma in this was written so well, and it is part of what made this amazing. It was really respectful, realistic, and clearly well researched. And, as a bonus, an excellent plot!

In All Your Borrowed Finery by vanishingact on AO3. (67,950 words).

Tags: Winged Dean Winchester, Winged Sam Winchester, Winged Castiel, Winged Gabriel, Spells & Enchantments, Hunters & Hunting, Case Fic, Harpies, Canon-Typical Violence, Major Character Injury, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Fluff and Humor and Smut and Angst, Wingfic, Fan art. 

My Rating: 5 stars. 

Description: Dean finds an interesting symbol in Kevin's angel tablet notes and, against Sam's counselling, uses it in the heat of battle with a pair of angelic assassins. Side effects include pain, disorientation, and uncontrollable new appendages for the Winchesters. A disgruntled Castiel and a delighted Gabriel show up to help. Hunting (and life) gets interesting when wings are involved.

Notes: Okay this was literally adorable and you can not convince me otherwise. Every time I read a fic with everyone’s favourite archangel, I miss him just a bit more.

Black Swans by omphalos and Wolfling on AO3. (66,455 words).

Tags: Post-Apocalypse, Road Trip, Blasphemy.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: A post-apocalyptic road trip with a still recovering archangel wasn't how Sam had envisioned the aftermath of their big plan, but it sure beat a lot of the alternatives.

Notes: This was absolutely brilliant, so well written, and the plot was phenomenal! The misunderstanding was painful, and the original characters were great.

omni gladio ancipiti by lifevolutionary on AO3. (10,892 words).

Tags: Wingfic, Telepathy, Psychic Bond.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: The archangel Gabriel had never chosen a Bearer for his sword. Until now.

Notes: This was so freaking sweet, and I love the idea of Sam just casually having a flaming sword.

Dies Irae, or Something by AlchemyAlice on AO3. (51,223 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Blasphemy, Alternate Universe - Canon, Biblical References.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: It starts with headaches, and it ends in a clusterfuck. So, business as usual, Apocalypse-wise.

Notes: I know it says Good Omens as well, but it is just a brief mention of Aziraphale and Crowley, so you don’t need to know anything about it! And this fic was written beautifully. Is it bad that I miss the apocalypse days?

That One Time Sam Winchester Googled Something Weird and It Had Pretty Awesome Results by quitepossiblyjanuary on AO3. (2,587 words).

Tags: Romantic Fluff, First Kiss, Stars, Humor, Courtship, Short & Sweet.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: In which Sam Googles something and his curiosity doesn't kill the cat. Or him. Or anyone. It's a pretty awesome feeling.

Notes: This was so adorable! Gabe was so sweet, and his mind reading skills made me laugh.

Bing Crosby’s Pennies From Heaven by twentysomething on AO3. (9,613 words).

Tags: Castiel, Dean Winchester, Gabriel, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Death.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Sam always asks inappropriate, poorly-timed questions, so what comes out of his mouth doesn't exactly surprise himself. "Where were you?"

Notes: This was brilliant - the little gifts that Gabe left for Sam were adorable, and I burst out laughing at the image of trying to get Bobby’s wheelchair on top of a toilet.

‘Star Wars is Overrated’ by leftdragonpainter on AO3. (38,186 words).

Tags: Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Pining, Drinking, Writer Castiel, Mechanic Dean, Neighbours, Swearing, Winchester Logic, Big Brother Gabriel, Clueless Dean, College Student Sam, Awkward Dates, Pie, Dean Cooks, Slow Burn, Injured Sam, Fixing Cars, Emotional Constipation, Angst, Confessions, Smut, Love Confessions, Temporary Amnesia, Star Trek References, Star Wars References, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description:  When Dean Winchester turned sixteen he was disappointed by the words that appeared on his chest. He never expected that it would take so much to find his soulmate. He never expected to not remember meeting them…

Notes: Every time I thought I knew what was going to happen, it either went in the complete opposite direction or something totally different happened, and I loved it.

Start Quoting Shakespeare and We’re Done by pyrebi on AO3. (15,579 words).

Tags: Romantic Comedy, Misunderstanding, Banter, Libraries, Food, Ridiculousness, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Human.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: In which Dean has the hots for a librarian named Cas, Cas may or may not have the hots for a mechanic named Dean, and Gabriel joins Sam in the peanut gallery in the hopes that he might just get to do a horizontal tango of his own.

Notes: Damn, the misunderstandings in this were so unbelievably painful. Overall, though, it was very funny and quite cute. Also, I love the idea of Gabe owning a sweet store.

Bring it On Home by lilyleia78 on AO3. (34,482 words).

Tags: Romance, Alternate Universe, Drama, Bonding, Angelic Soulbond, Angels, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: When John sells his sons to Heaven in exchange for the Colt, Dean and Sam find themselves separated from each other and in the care of two very different angels. Dean and Cas work together to find out why Heaven wants Sam and how they can reunite the brothers - all the while growing closer every day. Meanwhile Sam should hate Gabriel and his endless string of conquests, but Gabriel's twisted sense of humor and attractive smile inspire something much more complicated.

Notes: First of all, I would like to say that John absolutely does not deserve any redemption or forgiveness in this fic, but okay. The idea - especially the Sabriel side - was a little creepy, but it was executed fairly well.

Our Mornings by entanglednow on AO3. (2,155 words).

Tags: Morning After.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: That would be the sound of his brother having sex with an angel three rooms away.

Notes: This was fairly cute, but a bit short for my tastes.

And, for all the Sabriel fans who don’t ship Destiel:

Highway of Love (Or: How Sam Winchester Learned to Stop Worrying and Relax Already) by Jassy on AO3. (24,536 words).

Tags: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, The Trickster.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: AU. Sam noticed a few things weren't quite right after they killed the Trickster. After going back to check things out, his life will never be the same.

Notes: This was probably the first Sabriel fic I ever read, and honestly I just didn’t understand it. I mean, not complaining, because I’ve read Mystrade fics before and we all know they don’t even share a scene, but I was still confused. Then, I read a really nicely done thing on Instagram explaining it, and I kind of got it. So I read this, and I really enjoyed it, and now I ship Sabriel. 

So, they may be this fandom’s crack ship, but I hope you enjoyed this edition of Destiel + other ships. I’m thinking that I might do a Saileen one in the future, because she may have only been in one episode I have watched but oh boy she was an icon, and it’s good for my heart to ship things that actually happen (I think. No one tell me otherwise. I will cry).

#sabriel #ficrecs #fanfic #spn fanfiction #spnfamily #supernatural #destiel

[a-portable-snack]

Kaidam, Kai is dragged to a party and he hate it but then he know a handsome guy who make him change his mind

Is this loosely based off frat parties at my school? No, it’s heavily based off frat parties at my school. 

Fifteen Minutes

Kai laid on Adam’s bed watching the ceiling as him and Mira get ready for the party. They were all seniors in college and none of them really went to frat parties. Not because they were never invited. If you’re friends with Adam, you can’t NOT get invited everywhere. Mainly because they didn’t want to go. But now they were seniors with great GPAs, easy senior classes, and finally sometime to actually go little crazy. Or at least Mira and Adam can.

“Guys, I’m taking fucking Thermodynamics. I don’t understand a thing and I really should stay and study” Kai waved his brick of a textbook to make a point.

“Oh come on!” Adam stepped out of the bathroom. Kai turned to look at him and honestly stopped functioning for a second. He just had a simple short sleeved button up with jeans on. He had little bit of make up on it wasn’t noticeable but his skin was evener and his eyes looked bigger. But he was PRETTY.

That’s the thing about Adam Kai decided along time ago. Adam wasn’t hot or cute. Those words just didn’t describe him. Adam was simply pretty. Pretty enough to make Kai not realize he wasn’t paying attention to the words coming out of Adam’s mouth.

“Say that again? I can’t seem to process anything that isn’t code thanks to Ross.” Kai said.

“That is exactly my point! You’ve been working so hard for three years. It’s time to loosen up little” Adam did that dumb shimmy he does and Kai just snorted out a laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t. I’m a fucking Robotic and Mechatronic Engineer, I’m…”

“Practically double majoring because your major is a fancy combination of mechanical and electrical engineering” Adam said with smirk. “I’ve heard the rant once or twice.”

Kai could tell that Adam wasn’t going to back down about Kai going to the party. And Kai knew that he couldn’t say no to Adam. And Adam probably knows that Kai can’t say no to him. Hence, Adam’s knowing smirk as they had a stand off, both waiting for Kai to break.

“Ugh! Fine!”

“Perfect!” Mira came out, as if she planned for Adam to convince Kai to come. “I’m dressing you up”

“You’re what?” Adam and Kai said together. Kai was not a dress up type. He won an award from the Dean’s office and he accepted the award in jeans. Kai is pretty sure he only owns baseball tees and jeans. Maybe a long sleeve t shirt. Maybe.

“Adam, leave”

“What? Why? This is my room!”

“Because I’m stealing your clothes for Kai and I’m not listening to you tell me what to choose” Mira pushed Adam out with out his keys and closed the door.

“Can I at least have my wallet so I can go buy drinks?” Adam yelled. Mira threw Adam’s wallet at him and quickly closed the door.

“Ok Mira. WHAT THE HELL?”

“It’s fine. He won’t be mad once he sees you.” Mira started to raid Adam’s closet. She didn’t want to just dress Kai like Adam but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to get anywhere with Kai’s closet. So Mira needed to find balance. She saw the perfect pieces and threw them to Kai.

“This over this. Keep your jeans but you’re wearing Adam’s shoes” Mira said. Kai looked at the clothes. He hesitantly put them. It was a tight black long sleeved shirt with a floral short sleeved button up. He didn’t hate it.

“I like it!” Mira said, and pulled out some make up.

“Mira…”

“Nope, you’re getting a little make up. Just for me” She smiled and motioned him to sit down.

“Why are you doing this?” Kai asked as Mira applied foundation.

“I am over you and Adam dancing around each other. You’re both out, you both definitely like each other, I hate feeling like I’m third wheeling when you guys aren’t even dating”

“W-what?”

“Yeah, don’t say anything. You know I’m right” Kai just sat in silence and didn’t fight back. Yes Kai thought Adam was pretty. We discussed this. But Adam’s Adam. He’s the person that Kai relies on when he needs extra hands when building a robot or the person Kai wants to go to after a long day or the person that Kai is willing to drop everything for or… HOLY SHIT KAI LOVES ADAM.

“Did you actually just have a revelation that you loved Adam?” Mira was half pissed half relieved. Like thanks god he finally noticed but HOW DID HE NOT NOTICE?

“I’m sorry! I just… I don’t know! Didn’t look at Adam? I guess” Kai is usually one that is a love at first sight kind of man. If a good looking person so much as gives him a second of attention, Kai is ready to jump off a bridge for them. Most people let him jump. But maybe that’s why Adam is so special. Adam would never ask him to jump alone. Adam would grab him hand and leap with him.

“Didn’t look” Mira said under her breath. She finished Kai makeup and hair with minimal jests. When she was finally done, Kai was shocked. He didn’t look different but he looked better. He felt like he was actually attractive. Maybe he should let Adam and Mira “queer eye” him, as they always say.

“I’m back! I will exchange gin and Faygo for my dorm back.” Adam yelled from the door. Mira looked at Kai with excited eyes and bounded to the door.

“I’ll be taking this, and you will be thanking me” Mira snatched the ingredients to make drinks.

“What do you…” Adam stopped when he saw Kai. Adam let a small smile cover his face. “I see why. You look good”

“It was all Mira. I honestly don’t understand what she did”

“Yup, I am the rock you boys are built on.” Mira said, filling up her reusable water bottle with some gin then topping off with Faygo. “And I can’t believe you got fucking grape Faygo”

“Hey grape Faygo is the best and if you don’t agree, fuck off” Kai said. Adam just sent a small smile. Adam knew Kai likes the grape the best so he didn’t really have a choice in Faygo.

“So when are we leaving?” Kai asked.

“Right now” Mira handed both the boys reusable water bottles. “Ok boys. Say it with me. Be drunk enough…”

“To enjoy the idiots but sober enough not to join” Kai and Adam chanted with Mira.

“Ok, we’re off” Kai actually felt excited. He’s gone to a few small dorm parties but no frat parties. It was the first one of the year and everyone was going to be there. The school that Kai, Mira, and Adam go to is pretty small school with only 3 frat houses. No ever goes to one house because the guys are creepy and away from the other two. The good frats however full of fun guys. The houses are both kinda small but they coordinate parties together so they aren’t competing for the best party. Why have two small parties when you can have one big one?

“HERE WE ARE!” Mira immediately ran in, pulling the boys along. Kai immediately regretted coming. He had no idea how packed this place could get. There were body count restrictions for a reason! And that beer pong table is about to fall, loose screw. Are these stairs safe? There’s no light so you had to step and pray has you went downstairs. HOW ARE THERE MORE PEOPLE DOWN HERE?

The basement was so packed Kai was had to squish his shoulders together to try to keep up with Mira and Adam. Suddenly he was pulled away in the crowd that was dancing, drinking, and singing. Oh no he was getting involved with idiots. He wasn’t even drunk.

“Oh my god who are you?” Vanessa yelled over the music and draped herself over Kai. Kai rolled his eyes. He and Vanessa “went out” (if you want to call it that) and it was not healthy and didn’t end well.

“Vanessa, it’s me Kai.” Kai said. Vanessa pulled back to look him up and down.

“Wow if I had known you could clean up so good, I might not have dumped you” Kai just rolled his eyes. He explicitly remembers breaking it off with her after Mira have an intervention with him. She was manipulative, cheating on him constantly, and was starting to isolate Kai for his friends. It was not good.

“Well, too bad. Literally nothing could convince me to get back together with you”

“Oh come on, Kai” Vanessa grabbed Kai’s hand. “Let’s have some fun tonight. For old times sake.”

Kai was tempted. His friends were gone. It would just be one night and Vanessa is just a force that is hard to ignore. Kai shook his head.

“No, I-I leaving” Kai quickly fought his way out of the crowd and went back up the stairs. He started to look around the first floor for his friends when he heard something.

“Kai!” Kai turned to sound of his name saw Skeet, one of Adam’s friends. Oh great.

“If you’re here, Adam can’t be too far away!” Skeet looked over Kai, looking for Adam. Kai tried not to roll his eyes.

“I lost him awhile ago. You might find him around” Kai said, “And if you do, can-“

“Great! Is he still single? I’ve been thinking about asking him out. The dude is practically perfect”

Kai suddenly couldn’t breath. He shouldn’t have come. People never seem to actually care about him, he’s overloaded with work, and if he has to be alone, he rather it be somewhere that people can’t bother him.

Without saying anything Kai left the house as quickly as he could. Once he was outside, he quickly made his way down the street. He shoved his hands in his pockets and fought tears. This was their senior year. It was suppose to be the best year. Kai wanted to make the best of it because he knows Mira and Adam will take off once they graduate. It’s not on purpose but their jobs could take them anywhere. Mira’s animal conversation degree could take her all the way to India and Adam’s said he’d go to any law school that’ll take him, even in Alaska. And Kai just wanted one more year where they were all together.

“KAI!”

Kai turned and saw Adam sprinting down the side walk.

“Dude! There you are. I’ve been look all over for you” Adam slowed to a walk as he got close. When he noticed Kai was almost in tears, he closed the gap between them quickly.

“What happened? Did someone do something? I’m going to kick their ass” Adam almost seemed ready to go back to the party and destroy everyone until he figured out who hurt Kai. Kai grabbed Adam’s wrist and breathed out a laugh.

“Its fine. I… I just lost you guys than I ran into Vanessa then Skeet was looking for you and I just got overwhelmed. I’m just going to head back.” Kai gave Adam small smile and went to leave.

“15 minutes” Adam said. Kai turned around and gave him a weird look.

“Mira and I found a good spot. If you give me 15 minutes and still want to go home, I’ll walk you home myself” Kai wanted to say no. He wanted to go home. But it was Adam. And it was only 15 minutes. So Kai nodded an ok.

Adam laced his hand into Kai’s and pulled him back to the house. They went threw the front door and to the basement. Adam pulled Kai in front of him and wrapped a strong arm around his hip and pulled him close.

“I’m not losing you again.” Adam whispered into his ear. Kai was hoped Adam didn’t see the strong blush that crawled across his face and to his ears. Adam pushed Kai threw the crowd Kai kept his head down, hoping not to see Vanessa again. Adam lead him to a set of stair that Kai didn’t see when he was down here the first time. Adam guided him up the stairs and opened the door. It lead to the backyard of the house.

It was a really relaxed atmosphere compared to inside where everyone just seemed to be going has hard as possible. There were two picnic table, one with a beer pong game going, the other acting seats for the few people out here. There was also a keg toss competition going on and some people sitting on the ground smoking.

“Kai!” Mira jumped off the table and ran over. “There you are. Did you get lost in the crowd?”

“Something like that” Kai rubbed his neck.

“Come on” Adam pulled Kai to the picnic table. Adam sat on top of the and pulled Kai so he sat in-between his knees. Adam then slung a protective arm over Kai’s shoulder. At first Kai was really stiff but he quickly relaxed into he touch. They all started cheering for the beer pong game, Kai doing fake intense sports commentary that had everyone laughing. Eventually, Mira convinced Adam to do the Keg toss, to which Adam set a new frat record for.

Kai ended up staying way passed the 15 minutes. He stopped watching the clock after 5. He didn’t realize how late it was until one of the frat guys came to the backyard.

“Sorry guys but it’s like 3 am and we need to shut it down. Hope you had fun tho!” He said and escorted everyone that was in the backyard through the now empty basement to the first floor where people were filing out.

“So,” Adam carefully placed an arm over Kai’s shoulders “Are you happy you stayed?”

Kai, in moment of bravery, kissed Adam’s cheek. “Yes, I am”

#the hollow netflix #the hollow season 2 #the hollow adam #the hollow kai #the hollow mira #Kaidam #the hollow vanessa #the hollow skeet #the snack writes

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.8

Enchanted

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)     x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 3900

Summary: Dealing with witches is always messy. Sometimes they help... if there’s something in it for them. 

Rowena might be a powerful witch, but in certain aspects, she’s no different from the others of her kind.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, supernatural elements, mentions of amnesia, swearing (always)

Story masterlist

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“What are you doing here?” Dean asked, 100% done with the woman.

She was… a classy lady. She could be over fifty, but she apparently was taking a very good care of herself, clearly having money to do so too. Her curly hair was copper red, face covered in makeup to hide some of her age. She was very slim, but in no fragile matter – you had a hunch that her delicate outside hid a very strong inside.

“Drinking my tea,” she replied innocently and despite only just meeting her, you could tell she was full of it.

“Cut the crap, Rowena,” Sam spitted out, crossing his arms on his chest.

You blinked, surprised by Sam’s hostile demeanour. If even Sam, the epitome of a gentle person, was acting this way…

The woman put the cup down, sighing.

“Samuel, Samuel… What does it look like I’m doing? I’m cleaning up the mess before you did. You could show a little gratitude. There were witches who were gathering strength against me by sucking a life out of poor virginal girls and I stopped them.”

Witches. So the two men found dead had been witches indeed. Who was this woman then? What was she?!

“You ripped their little soldiers off!” Dean hissed exasperatedly, adjusting to the low volume of the conversation. Despite yourself, you giggled.

The woman glanced at you, seemingly not bothered by your presence at all.

“Ah. Hello, darling. And you would be-“ she started sweetly, only for her breath to get caught in her throat, her eyes widening. “Ahh. Such potential! Where did you get her? Soulmates are of great value on the market! The power in the soul bond magic is enormous, especially with a woman like her!”

“You can tell that? Damn!” Dean exclaimed, impressed. Sam shot him a murder glare.

“Can I have her? Just for a sip?” Rowena turned back to the brothers, voice filled with hope.

“No!” Sam snapped instantly, subtly looking around if anyone noticed them. You wouldn’t be surprised, but you frankly didn’t care much.

What the hell was she talking about? Sip? Like… from the heart like with those poor girls? And what the hell did she mean ‘woman like her’?!

“Eh, Samuel. Don’t be so uptight. Besides, I was talking to the lady – sadly, she needs to give her consent. Can I, darling?”

You gulped, not comforted by her gentle smile at all. She looked terrifying and the idea was even more terrifying and— you might be panicking a little.

“I… I don’t think so? How do you know— who are you? Who is she?” you demanded shakily.

“Hm… then I guess I’ll have to be the nice witch again.”

Oh. So she was a witch too. And other witches apparently hated her, gathering strength to fight her. Wonderful. And clearly, she had crossed paths with the brothers before. Simply perfect.

“What do you mean?” Sam squinted at her suspiciously, while Dean absently gave the waitress money for your food and sent her away rather rudely so he could continue glaring at the witch.

“Well, she’s been resurrected, yes?” the redhead beckoned to you, making your blood run cold. Ah, that was what she meant. How the fuck did she know that?! “I suppose you’re looking for her other half and have no idea where to start. I can help. You’ll owe me then, of course, but… I’m nothing but generous.”

Your heart positively stopped. You were horrified. You were scared. You were stunned.

She could do that?! She could find your soulmate?! Despite feeling… uncomfortable for the lack of better word, with her helping you, everything in you screamed YES, your chest already tightening with anticipation and hope.

She could find him. The man calling you doll. The man whom you dreamed about, warm hands and sweet voice. She could-

You were snapped out of your musing by a loud grind of teeth, stereo-delivered by both Sam and Dean.

“Fine.“

“It’s lovely to meet you, darling. I’m Rowena,” she stood up and offered her hand for you to shake. You casted an unsure glance at Sam. Was it safe to accept it?

He gave an unwilling little nod.

You smiled tightly at the witch. “Nice to meet you. I’m… Natasha… I guess.”

She patted the back of your hand with her left palm. “It’s alright, sweetie. I can spot an induced amnesiac a mile away.”

“Induced?” Sam fretted.

“Caused by bringing her back from… Heaven?” she questioned, looking you up from head to toe as she finally released your hand. You found it incredibly creepy that she knew that much about you. Could she read minds or what?! “I swear, boys, you are always pulling out the strangest stunts. Let’s go now. We have an important task to complete.”

The reluctance of every one of you apart from the witch was nearly palpable, but it seemed you wordlessly agreed she was your best option right now.

You gulped as Rowena left a twenty on the table and led you out of the restaurant, unmistakeably finding the car you arrived in. She slid to the backseat elegantly, giving Dean instructions to drive to her suite.

“No need to worry, darling. I’ll point you towards the love of your life in no time.”

At that note, you weren’t sure whether it was the process or the goal that scared you more. You remained silent.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

“So… what exactly are you going to do?” Dean asked the million dollar question.

The drive was silent, only Rowena’s voice sometimes disturbing the quiet when telling Dean to take a turn.

Her suite was in a large luxurious hotel with freaking valets who didn’t have a single problem with three extra people coming in, basically showering you with questions about what they could do for you; you imagined it was Rowena’s doing and you weren’t thinking money. It was more than disturbing.

Entering the suite itself, the four of you were left alone, which led to Dean finally asking what was about to happen. Rowena pointedly ignored him and looked at you when answering.

“Well, I’ll just sneak a peek at your soul bond. You are still bound, even though probably not as strongly. I can look at the bond, follow it and let it lead me to your soulmate like the Ariadne’s threat leading Theseus from the Minotaur’s labyrinth.”

You understood the basic thing, her following some kind of a threat that connected you to your soulmate. Except you had no idea what she was talking about.

“…is that… like a pop culture reference or…? ‘Cause I don’t understand those.”

“Something like that,” Sam assured you with a bit of a patronizing smile. Unsure, you felt blood rush to your cheeks. You had a feeling you just made a fool of yourself. Then again… amnesiac here, alright?

“Of course you wouldn’t know, darling, my bad.”

Sam stepped in again. “Rowena, what ingredients do you need?”

“That’s the most brilliant thing, Samuel. Nothing. I simply… go online so to speak. Connect to their long-distance wi-fi. The only thing I need is her giving me the password. Or give up her firewall so I can hack their connection so to speak,” she explained with a blinding smile and earned three strange glances. One was confused – yours – and the other two were just… dubious and astounded. “No? I thought you were the local IT guy, Samuel.”

“What the hell, Rowena? Do witches use goggle now?” Dean nagged.

“Don’t be silly, Dean. I happened to spent beautiful months with a director of a software company. Of course, then his money ran out and I had to leave… but until that moment, ah, paradise, for his age-”

“Alright! TMI...” Dean threw his hand in the air, not unlike when Sam had tried to stop Dean from talking earlier. Rowena only winked, while you managed to do nothing but stare.

You were perfectly at lost. Was she their friend? Was she an enemy? Their aunt or something? She surely enjoyed making fun of them and clearly could be pain in their asses. Also… was she truly enchanting people so she could have whatever she wanted? ‘Cause it definitely looked like it now…

“I thought so. Can we get started so I can point you the right direction and we can all we be on our way?”

“Wait, you can just point us the right direction?” Dean demanded, frowning at her from his height, but she didn’t seem intimidated, more like slightly irritated with his questions, that she apparently found dumb.

“It’s magic, Dean, not GPS!”

“Could have fooled me…” Sam hummed, squinting at her as well.

Yeah, you didn’t like it either. Still, she was your best shot at finding your soulmate. Tough luck. You exchanged a look with Sam, who eyed his brother wryly. Guess you were all in agreement at that.

“Just… just do it,” Dean sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if tired.

The witch, on the other hand, seemed to be radiating excitement, which you didn’t like. You hated to admit it, but you were afraid of her; of her apparent immense power, to be precise. It didn’t help that she pulled out an ancient-looking bowl from her cabinet and a blade from the drawer of her nightstand.

Was she gonna cut you?!

“Oh, I will do it. May I, darling?”

You didn’t react to her question, eyeing the brothers once more. Their expressions dimmed even more at the sight of the tools Rowena was about to use, but Sam gave a sharp nod and attempted a reassuring smile.

Well. Shit. Still your only option if you ever wanted to find your soulmate, apparently. Your life sucked. Then again, at least you were alive.

You sighed and slowly laid your shaking hand into Rowena’s outstretched palm and she circled her slender fingers around your wrist, leading your joined hands above the bowl.

“Now, do you recall anything about your soulmate at all?” she asked, voice almost gentle.

You licked your lips nervously, a lump growing in your throat.

“I heard a voice in my dream. I’m pretty sure that’s it,” you admitted and hoped the shiver running through your, both from fear and anticipation, escaped everyone else’s notice.

Wishful thinking, probably.

“Mm. Good. Close your eyes and focus all you can on the voice. I think we established that I’m going to cut you, so try not to be too surprised and avoid breaking your concentration as much as possible. Are we clear, sweetie?”

People really needed to stop calling you things. It was getting incredibly annoying – you might only have a fake name, but it was still a name.

You kept your mouth shut though, not wanting to irk the witch, and simply nodded, your eyes falling shut.

Your soulmate’s voice was crystal clear in your ears, tender and sultry ‘doll’ caressing and tempting your heart. An involuntary smile slowly spread on your lips. You wanted to find the owner of that voice. And for that, sacrifices had to be made.

You barely gasped when the blade scrapped over your skin, barely breaking the surface. Your hand was manipulated then, turned over and squeezed until you felt droplets of blood trickle down and fall off your hand.

That was when the witch started enchanting, the strange words sending a shiver down your spine. The colour of her voice was richer now, thicker, crimson as the blood on your hand.

‘Doll,’ you forced yourself to hear instead, one simple word growing so familiar it made your heart ache and swell. Warm light flickered behind your eyelids, flashing through your whole being, an electric discharge running through your nerve endings and igniting every cell of your body, tender heat gathering in your chest.

Soft inhale escaped your lips at the blissful feeling, the light only growing.

And then it was over, the tingling sensation snapping like a rubber band, recoiling into a tiny ball of warmth around your heart. You hand automatically reached that direction, but the world swayed off its place.

A pair of strong hands gripped your shoulders from behind, a panicked cry of ‘Natasha!’ echoing in your ears, barely audible, muffled by an indefinable buzzing.

You blinked your eyes open, finding a redhead woman staring at you funnily.

“Nat, you good?” sounded behind you and you realized that, surprisingly enough, Dean was the one to catch you, his grip on you not even faltering when you turned your head to him. A worried wrinkle, rather uncharacteristic for him, sat on his forehead. You tried to stand up straighter, whispering a thank you.

“Did you see something?” Sam asked and you opened your mouth to try and describe the incredible feeling that had run through you, only to realize he spoke to Rowena.

“Y-yes.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was… shaken.

“What is it? You’re looking at me funny,” you pried, not able to think of a better word than that.

She tilted her head and went to explain herself, observing you with almost fascinated expression. “The bond… it’s still very strong. But differently.”

“…that says nothing to us,” Dean deadpanned. Rowena looked at him sharply.

“I’m trying to explain, you dummy. The bond is always there, whether the soulmates met or not – it grows stronger when they are together, working on their relationship. But the power of this one… it feels unusual. It’s not as if they are strengthening it right now, it’s like they are yet about to meet, which I do find understandable. But… this power… it tasted almost electric. I’ve never encountered it before.”

You blinked in shock, the haze surrounding you ever since she started doing her magic thing dispersing. Now you were just dumbfounded.

“What does it mean?” you whispered, reluctant. Neither Dean nor Sam seemed to find the courage to ask.

“I don’t know, darling. Might be the fact you had died. Or you’re simply special.”

Dean cleared his throat loudly. “Right. So, where is her soulmate?”

“New York City,” the witch replied, small smile tugging on her lips while her eyes never left you, too invested in your… anomaly.

Anomaly. No kidding. You had been dead. That was probably it, right? Nothing more. Nothing to worry about. You couldn’t afford to get any weirder.

“That’s it? There are eight million people there!” Sam cried out, throwing his hands in the air.

Rowena’s smile grew.

“Are you attracted to women, darling?”

“Uhm… no, I don’t think so…?” you stuttered, your cheeks reddening at that implication. You were pretty sure you weren’t. Right?

“See, Samuel, then it’s only four million. I don’t suppose she’s destined to fall in love with a baby either, or a senior citizen-“

Dean coughed tactlessly, which earned you a curious look from the witch and Dean a sharp glare from his brother.

You had no doubt Dean thought of your crossed out soulmark. Maybe you couldn’t dismiss that idea yet, but… that was strange, right? You couldn’t find yourself to fall in love with someone who was 95 years old for god’s sake.

“…so that narrows it down, doesn’t it?” the witch continued. “But just because I like you, Samuel, I can tell you he should be on the island of Manhattan.”

“That’s better. Thank you.”

Rowena’s smile turned into a predatory smirk. “Aww, Samuel, you don’t have to thank me. You’ll repay me.”

“Of course we will...” Dean remarked sarcastically, unwillingness mixing with disgust on his face.

There was no hesitation. Thanks to this woman, your soulmate got much realer than ever. Not just a soulmark. Not just a voice. A person living in New York City, Manhattan.

Sam and Dean had been the ones to lead you to her; it was only fair if they didn’t have to suffer the consequences more than they already had.

You stepped towards Rowena, taking a deep breath, hoping to look courageous. You couldn’t deny your fear, but you could show your determination.

“Hey, if you… if you, uhm… take a sip of that soul bond magic you were talking about… will it hurt me much?”

“Why would you ask that, darling?” she asked with sweet innocence despite you being sure she knew the answer.

“No, don’t-!” Sam called out at the same time, springing forward. You stopped him subtly with your hand.

“And if you take it, their debt towards you won’t exist?” you continued, seeing you had intrigued her greatly.

“I suppose not. That would be only fair.”

You bit your lip. One question remained, not less important than the previous ones. “And it wouldn’t affect my soulmate?”

He was a real man, now. A man with a voice and a vague address. This was no joke.

“I promise it will neither hurt you too much, nor will it even scratch your soulmate, darling,” Rowena declared, delighted as she sensed victory.

Your heart didn’t miss a beat; the decision was made. “Take it, then.”

“Natasha!” the brothers cried out simultaneously, not taking what you were offering. You turned to them with an honest smile.

“It’s a small price for what you’ve been doing for me. And it’s not even over yet. It’s alright. Let me start repaying my debt towards you instead of making it grow.”

The sincerity you spoke with must have shown on your face too, because their defensiveness eased a fraction. They grimaced, but didn’t protest further.

Dean’s eyes move to glare at Rowena, hard.

“If it hurts her-“

“Then what, Dean? I would have you on my arse and that’s too annoying, believe me,” she spitted out, her British accent growing even thicker when she got agitated. “Don’t worry about her.”

“It’s our job to worry,” Dean muttered under his breath and everyone decided to ignore it.

Sam’s gaze remained fixed on you, full of concern.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this, Natasha. That’s not how it works. You don’t owe us.”

You were touched by the sentiment, the honesty of his words. If for nothing else, than for the good they carried in their hearts you had to do this.

“I believe you, Sam. You wouldn’t want anything in return. Which is why I have to give it,” you explained softly, glancing at the witch. “What do you want me to do?”

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Sam did not like this. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciat the thought, Natasha not wanting to get them into the position of having the duty to repay Rowena somehow, but… something about how happy Rowena was at the turn of events was unsettling.

“Not much,” Rowena assured the younger woman and took her hand again. “Think about your soulmate again and when you feel a nudge – you’ll recognize when that happens – you just let me in. Simple as that.”

Sam could feel the disapproval radiating from Dean as well and they exchanged a grim look. He knew his brother took a witch killing bullets with him, just in case. They probably wouldn’t truly hurt Rowena, the witch extraordinaire, but it would slow her down if the need arose. Dean wouldn’t take Rowena’s shit.

Despite the easy-going exterior and attitude, Sam knew better. Dean cared for the people they helped. And he grew fond of Natasha very quickly; he hadn’t been kidding when threatening Rowena. Naturally, Sam was with him on that one; he just wasn’t as vocal about it as Dean.

The witch reopened the cut on Natasha’s palm and the woman closed her eyes again. Drops of her blood fell to the bowl as Rowena whispered words in language nearly as old as time. Natasha gasped when red smoke started ascending despite not seeing it. Sam guessed the nudge Rowena had mentioned arrived and was stronger than the poor woman had expected.

Dean’s hand twitched to his side towards the gun and Sam gulped.

Light coloured in warm gold, not unlike the one they had seen during the first spell, started escaping the cut, curling playfully as it hovered above the skin of Natasha’s palm. Rowena cut her own hand and placed it over the glow which danced wildly before being sucked into the witch’s wound.

A breathless whimper escaped Natasha’s lips, while Rowena’s eyes glowed violet in a familiar display of her magic. This time even Sam stepped forward, ready to break whatever process was in motion. Rowena cried out another words, her fingers extending over Natasha’s palm and Sam recognized that nope, this was not supposed to happen.

Before he could as much as lunge after the witch or before Dean could draw his gun, Natasha’s back arched and her injured hand curled into fist with a swift snap, causing the smoke and glow vanish. Rowena gasped and Sam had a fraction of second to notice their new friend’s legs were about to give out again. He jumped behind her, catching her before she crumbled towards the ground, her dead weight all on him.

Dean was already aiming his gun at the witch, expression hard.

“What did you do to her, Rowena?” he demanded sharply, unlocking the safety lock.

Sam readjusted his grip on Natasha as gently as he could, taking her pulse, watching her torso in hope to see her inhale. Luckily, she was still breathing, her heart beating. He shot the witch a murderous glare.

“Probably just passed out,” he informed his brother, but the older hunter didn’t appear mollified. To be fair, neither was Sam. He gritted his teeth. “You wanted to take it all, didn’t you?”

Rowena rolled her eyes.

“Not all of it. Just a little bit more than one sip, maybe.”

Seriously? She wasn’t even denying it?!

“Don’t get your pants in the twist, Winchester. She’ll sleep it off. She’s a sneaky one though – or her soulmate is, I can’t tell. They wouldn’t let me take more…”

Sam didn’t bother fighting the pride that filled him on Natasha’s behalf. Good for her. She was strong. She was a fighter. She wouldn’t have let Rowena to take her soulmate from her. She believed in the bond with the man she didn’t even know too much for that. He smirked; no wonder Dean liked her so much so soon.

“Oh please, put the gun down, Dean. I mean no harm. I should warn you, though. Her soulmate… I believe the power I feel is coming from him. I’ve never encountered it before indeed. You might want to look out,” she noted, healing the cut on her hand with a simple wiggle on her uninjured hand.

“Don’t pretend you care,” Dean spitted out, but lowered the gun, more annoyed at Rowena’s attempts to drain the soul bond than anything else. Things sure would be different if she had truly hurt Natasha.

One corner of Rowena’s lips quirked as she gave them a tiny wave, dismissing them.

“Off you go. The door’s that way. The valets will let you out. She’ll probably be pretty thirsty and hungry when she finally wakes up. Until next time, boys,” she said cheerily and Sam sighed, gathering Natasha in his arms, bridal style.

It wasn’t like she was about to wake up now and walked out on her own, apparently.

Dean glared at Rowena as they left the room, mumbling curses under his breath. “Fucking witches. Every time…”

They stepped into an elevator, the older brother still snarling. “At least she could have healed her too…”

Sam silently agreed as Dean pressed the button to the ground floor and took Natasha’s hand gently to examine the damage then.

Both brothers blinked when they only saw the blood and no wound; Rowena must have healed Nat’s cut. Dean glanced up, meeting Sam’s equally surprised gaze.

“Like I said. Fucking witches.”

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Part 9

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I immensely enjoyed writing this chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading it ;)

Kudos to you ♥ Especially if you’re one of people letting me know your thoughts on the story.

#marvel #suprnatural #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #marvel x spn #spn x marvel #mcu #team free will #soulmate au #errare humanum est #anika ann

[anakinthetrashking]

How’s the Heart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871853/chapters/65565265

Somehow I made it and it is FINISHED!!!! This is my fic that I wrote for @batfam-big-bang​ !!!!

The biggest of shoutouts and THANK YOUUUUS to my incredible betas: Ace, Skye, and Em!!! @toomanyfandoms21​, @timmydrakewings​, and  @geekinthecorner​ !!!! I’ve never actually had a beta before, but for this i had 3??? You guys were so kind and patient with me and my last minute tendencies. Thank you for all your suggestions and edits!!! [heart eyes]

and then!! ARTISTS!! you guys really put your heart and soul into the pieces you made and i just,,,, want to cry,,,,THAMKKKKK YOUUU!!!! keep being awesome! im love u: Butter, Dean and Lucy!!!!!! @heybabybird​, @greenbean-riverdean​, and @houser-of-stories​ !!!!!

Its a Tim-centric 3+1 Three times Tim is helped or comforted by his family, and one time where he's doing pretty alright. (TW: Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal thoughts, etc! full tags on ao3)

1) Here I am to Share the Fear (Tim & Damian & Dick) Bruce is back and everything seems to be going well- so of course old fears pop up again. Damian notices his absence and tries is best in his own way to offer some comfort.

2) Fly Towards the Calm (Tim & Steph & Cass) Steph notices that Tim's failing at basic self care again, so she declares Movie Night. She and Cass try to remind Tim that he needs to take the time to care for himself and not just continue pouring himself out on behalf of others.

3) Night Will Come But Not to Stay (Tim & Bruce) Turns out catching the Clench and loosing his spleen have more lasting effects than they thought. Tim tries to ignore and push past his new found limitations, Bruce notices that something is off and is there for the inevitable breakdown.

+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale (Tim & Alfred) A rare event of relaxation, the Waynes have a picnic at the manor. Alfred worries about his family, but for now, it seems like everything is alright.

Read it under the read more or on AO3 !

Here I Am To Share The Fear

Too much. Everything was too much.

Bruce was finally back, and Tim was glad that everyone was so happy - despite them all being wrong.

Wrong.

WRONG.

He shook his head and put a light smile on his face, trying to focus on the conversation in front of him, but Dick was so loud. And there were far too many people in the mansion - in the same room - Tim swallowed and grit his teeth against the feeling of his organs crawling up his throat.

There were eleven people in the room.

Ten roses in the flowered centerpiece on the buffet table.

Nine cups scattered about the room.

Eight candle flame shaped light bulbs in the chandelier.

Seven white socks (why was Dick only wearing one?) 

Six voices in variating clarity.

Five… Five? Five fingers on each hand.

Four windows, none open.

Three lamps, all unlit.

Two doors.

One exit. Viable exit, at least.

Zero people looking at him. Perfect.

It was time for him to go, so he took his exit as quietly as possible, noticing the volume of the crowd drop as he walked out. No one stopped him. No one seemed to notice. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Good. That- that was something he could deal with.

As he fled to his room, he couldn’t help but notice how alive the manor was. So many lights were on, even in empty rooms. Little things littered the place as if people actually lived here. A book on the table here, ready to be picked up and read from where they left off. A suitcase full of clothes there, waiting to be unpacked. Doors open instead of closed and locked. Bed covers turned down, ready to welcome them home.

Tim reached his door and saw the life that had flooded there as well. Posters, pictures of family and friends covered large portions of his walls. Little trinkets given to him were lovingly placed around his desk. It was more than he could take, so he ran. He ran and ran through hallways and past open doors until the warmth of the occupied portion of the Manor turned to the chilly halls of the guest wing. Back in the furthest unused room is where he finally stopped, willing his heart rate to slow down.

The room looked like something out of a book, everything covered with sheets and layered with undisturbed dust, no signs of life. The evening light cast the room in cool tones of blues and greys, shadows soft and hazy. The attached bathroom was much the same, cold tiles sucking the heat from his feet.

Sitting down, he hugged his knees to his chest, letting the lines of the sink cabinet dig into his back. Tim stared for a while, trying not to think, and letting the clock tick a rhythm into his head.

The clock sounded so loud, and his breath seemed even louder. Nothing felt ok. Exhaustion pushed at the edges of his vision while panic seemed to well up inside of him and claw into his throat. Everything felt like it was closing in on him so he pushed back, laying on the floor and stretching his arms and legs as far as they could go. The cold seeped into him and he vaguely wondered if that’s what it felt like to die. To let your warmth bleed out into the universe. Death… was a calming thought. As humourless as that was, it forced a short laugh out of his throat.

Death would be preferable, he thought, to whatever feeling this is.

Bruce had been back for a month, and for a little while the triumph of bringing him home had been, well, satisfying. Relieving. Exhilarating.

But now, somehow, he was left feeling empty. Hollow. Carved out. His skin was pulled taut over his bones and there was nothing inside. Each day was an empty victory. A consolation prize. An uphill battle against an unseen enemy.

Eating, drinking, getting dressed, sleeping, showering, all done out of the necessity of existence. But most of the time he didn’t feel like he existed at all. Just a doll or a robot - there, but not really. Tossed aside until needed again. Some sort of empty, semi-existent thing. It felt too much like being five again and waiting by the phone for that occasional Sunday call from his parents.

A single tear slipped out, unbidden. It left a quickly cooling trail in its wake.

Everything is so stupid. Tim thought, frustrated by his own stagnancy, willing himself to just do something, instead of just lying there considering the logistics of several stupidly lethal ideas. He was working on kicking out the thoughts when he was distracted by the sound of light, purposeful footsteps. Damian. With footsteps like that it meant he was trying to be considerate. Creepy.

“What do you want?” Tim sighed.

“Drake.” Tim could feel rather than see the curt nod Damian gave him. “Pennyworth brought out those blueberry scones you seem to favor. However, you were not present. So I…” His self-assured tone faltered.

Tim turned to look at him for the first time. “You came looking for me?”

“I would hardly call it looking. You frequent a few spots and the conclusion was obvious by the number of people that are currently within the Manor.” Damian sat cross legged on the floor, pushing a scone into Tim’s hands.

“But why would you…?” Tim sat up, arching an eyebrow.

“It is only natural to know your enemy, Drake. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Damian sniffed and waited for Tim to take a bite. Then he continued. “Then you will best know how to poison them.” A (dare Tim say it) friendly smirk showed itself on Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, and for once they seemed to have gained a sort of mutual understanding.

They lapsed into silence again. Damian shifted, obviously wanting to say something but didn’t know how. The expression on his face looked so scrunched that Tim almost wanted to laugh.

Instead he asked, “Is it still unbearably loud out there?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “With Grayson in the room? Obviously.”

Somehow Damian seemed even more frustrated. There was a good chance that any moment now he would jump up and leave, but not before throwing out an insult to cover his wounded pride at having to retreat. In his own way, he was trying to offer an olive branch, and as tired as Tim was, something in him couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He could almost hear Dick’s voice in his head, telling him that if he would just talk with Damian, have a conversation, maybe they could find common ground.

For once, he could see the clumsy effort that the brat was making, and he knew deep down, more than anything they both yearned for warmth. Not the sort of warmth that contrasted the grounding feeling of the cold tile beneath him, but the warmth of human connection. The numbness that had been growing in him twisted at that thought and he decided to take a chance.

“It’s nice to have everyone around, but…” he glanced over to try to gauge a reaction, “I can’t seem to settle into it.”

A sort of recognition, reflection, sparked in Damian’s eyes at that, and some of the tension began to leave his body. Tim continued.

“I guess it’s just that there’s always been something. If I do well enough in school, maybe my parents will take an interest in me. If I become a better Robin, maybe Batman will go back to normal. If I bring Bruce back, maybe we can all be happy again… But it never works. It’s never enough, and now- now there’s just… nothing.”

A few moments passed, and Damian’s own internal battle ended as he found the words to reach out in return.

“I, too… Mother’s time was very limited. I trained and studied hard for any extra moment of time or nod of approval she could give… and after Father denied me, it was much the same, trying to rework standards and limits for his approval. Not having something specific to work towards does indeed seem… disconcerting.” Tim searched his face and found sincerity there, though his eyes seemed to be distant as he turned away.

Damian once again found himself at a loss for words, so he thought about what Grayson would do in such a situation. A hug was… out of the question, but- he lay his hand in-between the two of them, palm open. This, he supposed, he could do. Tim took it, surprising them both. Damian’s hand felt almost unbearably warm after the cold of the tile floor.

They sat again, together, in silence. It was more companionable, though still awkward and stilted in ways neither knew how to fix.

“There’s nothing more I can do for this family. There’s nothing I can think of.” The silence stretched before them, and Tim hesitated to put his fear into words.

Finally, he whispered, “ There’s no excuse for me to stay now.”

Damian’s face whipped around to face him. “As usual, you are wrong, Drake.” He scoffed, “Don’t you know you can’t choose who your family is?” pausing, he let go of Tim’s hand and stood up, turning to leave. “You’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

Quick but light footsteps sounded out in the hallway.

“Grayson!” Damian called, “Come fix Drake before Father requires his assistance again!” Nodding to Tim he left without another word.

Dick then came skidding around the corner into the bathroom, one socked foot sliding out against the tile. “Tim! Are you ok? What’s wrong? Why are you here of all places?”

Overly warm hands, distant eyes, honest feelings? Tim let out a deep sigh. “You should be more worried about the little gremlin. I think he’s got a fever.”

Dick tensed as if to sprint off again, and Tim held in a sigh of disappointment, knowing that Damian would be the priority, yet again. But instead of running off, Dick simply pulled out his phone and sent off a text, settling down into the spot on the floor that had been recently vacated.

“Bruce is on it.” He glanced out the doorway as if he could still see Damian storming past. “Did he-?” The question of his behavior went unsaid but not uncommunicated.

“No, we had a completely civil conversation. One might even call it a heart-to-heart, by our standards.”

“Therefore, he must be sick?”

“Other signs, too. But yeah.”

The buzz of an incoming message confirmed it, but Dick put his phone away instead of typing out a reply.

“A heart-to-heart, eh? I always knew you guys could get along if you just tried talking.”

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Tim shot a glare at Dick who was failing terribly at trying to look affronted at the very thought,  “but it does seem like we are a lot more alike than I realized.”

“Who would’ve known?” Dick teased.

“Never mind, just say I told you so next time.” Tim grumbled. “Anyway, it seemed like he was really trying, and that he wanted to help in some way. I guess I just couldn’t ignore that.”

“Yeah.” Dick had his proud big brother face on. “I'm glad you guys are finally getting along. What did you talk about?”

“Oh, you know, feeling worthless without having something to focus on, questioning our places in people's lives, the usual. “  

“That does seem to be a common theme in our family.”

“He called me family,” Tim murmured. “Or, well, he implied it. But for him, that’s basically saying it.”

“Tim, that’s…” Even Dick looked astounded.

“Unbelievable?”

“No, not unbelievable.” He chided. “But definitely surprising.”

“That’s one way to get me out of a bad mood, I guess. I was so surprised that it jarred me right out of my own downwards spiral.” Tim closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “Most everything still sucks, but that’s a bright spot, at least. My therapist keeps telling me to look for those. I guess I have another one to add to the list.” He turned his head to share a small smile before standing up to stretch. “That and Alfred’s blueberry scones. I sure hope there’s some left.”

Dick matched his smile with a blinding one of his own and reached over to ruffle Tim’s hair.

“You know, if you ever need to talk-“

“I know.” Tim bumped his shoulder into Dick’s. “Thanks, Dick.”

Fly Towards The Calm

“Think fast!” Stephanie’s entrance was about as subtle as a stampede.  She must have been hanging out with Jason lately. As the door behind her swung closed, she tossed a tightly, carefully wrapped package at his face. He caught it with one hand as he finished reading the last paragraph of the proposal he was looking over.

“Evidently I’m the Wayne family errand boy now,” she whined as she jumped up to sit on his desk. “I drove the brat home from school and got enlisted by Alfred to deliver food to your sorry butt.”

“You could have said no.” he muttered. Peeling back the folded wax paper revealed a tuna fish sandwich, exactly how he liked it, though a bit squished from being thrown across a room.

“Refused? Alfred? Are you joking?” she asked, over dramatically taken aback. “Besides, I was rewarded with my own delicious sandwich and not one but two cupcakes.”

“Two?” his eyebrow raised. 

“Well, he only gave me one, but generously allowed me to snatch a second. I didn’t eat yours because I’m nice.” She dropped the rest of his lunch on his now closed laptop.

“Indeed, I shall never be able to repay your kindness,” he said around his own mouthful of sandwich.

“You got that right. Anyway, Cass and I are gonna have a night on the town tonight, wanna come with?”

Tim hummed in agreement.

“Great! I’ll text her. You should probably get a nap first though. Come on, you can eat on the way.” She popped the last bite in her mouth and hopped off the desk.

Gathering his things, he glanced at her in amusement. “Alfred put you up to this, too?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you even have to ask?”

Looping her arm in his, they headed to the door. He noticed a slight hesitation in her steps and turned to find her looking at him funny. But she just shook her head and let whatever it was, be.

Until they got in the car, of course.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she sped down the road she asked, with a tone he couldn’t quite decipher , “Did you use my dry shampoo?”

His mind ground to a halt. Of all the questions he thought she’d ask, that was not one of them, and for the life of him, he couldn’t reason out why. They constantly borrowed each others’ things without issue, and for that matter, so did the rest of their mismatched clan. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he needed that nap after all.

 It had been a minute, maybe he should answer the question.

“Got my own bottle.” He said carefully, “Seemed useful.”

“Hmm.” God, now she sounded like Bruce. How many odd habits had she picked up from them? 

“Tim…” she sounded soft and hesitant, as if he were fragile. He hated when they did that. “When’s the last time you took a shower? Or ate a full meal?”

He contemplated it with a hum. “Patrol,” he said finally.

Stephanie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel for a moment. “Has it been bad lately?”

“What? …Oh.” Oh. “Not… really? It’s just been numb. Quiet. A bit like the way everything is muffled when you’re underwater.” A bit like drowning, he left unsaid.

She nodded and made a sudden U-turn. When he looked at her in askance, she shrugged. “We’ll patrol together another night. I’ll update Cass when we get to my apartment, but go ahead and text Alfred now. We’re going to have a self-care night with movies and facemasks and whatever other dumb indulgent Pinterest crap I can think of.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue but found he was too tired to care and yawned instead. “Nap first?”

“Shower first. Then nap.”

[BREAK]

He woke the moment she opened the door and turned his head to meet her gaze as she poked her head in with a grin.

“Ca-“ he broke off in a yawn, “Cass!”

With a quick glance behind her, she continued into the room, holding out a steaming mug. Tim sat up in bed, gleefully accepting it as she sat down next to him.

“Coffee,” he sighed in delight.

“Coffee.” She agreed with a solemn nod.

The silence was comforting as they sat there, leaning against each other, Tim soaking in the rare precious moments where he wasn’t rushed, or pulled this way and that. Reaching the bottom of the mug, he set it aside, wrapping his arms around his sister instead.

“You are a blessing upon humanity,” he said, “we don’t deserve you.”

She laughed and tightened the hug. The moment felt just like flying free above the streets of Gotham, and the thought of staying in for the night felt right. Cass pulled away just enough to look at him face to face, an amused twist to her lips.

“You smell like a Steph!” Squeezing him once more, she slipped away and was halfway out the door again when she turned as if she had just remembered something. “Oh!” her smile turned sly, “Decaf!”

“Hey!” He jumped out of the bed to catch up with her, but when he rounded the hall into the living room he was stopped in his tracks.

It seemed that somewhere in between dropping him off at her apartment to take a nap while she met up with Cass and “gathered necessary supplies”, and returning with said supplies, the original objective had been lost.

“It looks like you brought back half the manor’s supply of blankets and robbed a concession stand… and is that the old DVD case? I thought I got rid of that.”

“Yeah. Me and Dick saved it! Having everything digital may be convenient, but having a physical folder of DVDs just feels right!”

Tim suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and decided to leave the debate of Digital vs. Physical for another day.

“Anyway, you’re up just in time to help us set up the blanket fort!”

An hour later found the living room unrecognizable under the piles of pillows and draped sheets. Tim and Steph stood in the kitchen sorting snacks and discussing the night’s activities.

“-and then there’s this green tea and honey one that’s really great, very soothing-“

“Steph, you don’t have to explain them all to me, you know I’ll always let you test your facial concoctions out on me,” he cut in.

“Of course I know that. I’m not rambling about them for my benefit- I’m rambling about them for yours”

A head tilt was his only reply.

“Ok, let me try to explain this in a different way.” she put down her phone to look at him. “Tonight, Cass and I are going to attempt to teach you how to take care of yourself.”

“I know-” 

“Not in the way that you’ve done or that you know. Your version of taking care of yourself is to fool the cameras, the public, to fool Batman into thinking that you’re at your best.” she shoots him a look. “You’re not. You’re running on fumes and you can’t fool your family.”

“Taking care of yourself is NOT finding the lowest number of hours of sleep that you can ‘function’ on.” She makes quotes in the air with her fingers. “It is not replacing a meal with a power bar, even if the calories are the same! It’s not only taking showers when you have to leave the house, or shutting yourself in to do casework all the time!” her hands fly up in the air and she huffs. 

Taking his hands in hers she looks him square in the eyes before saying more softly, “Self-care is eating full, balanced, Alfred-cooked meals as often as you can. It’s doing your laundry every week and brushing your teeth twice a day. It’s taking naps even when you would literally rather be sorting through the 5-year backup of paperwork in R&D. Or better yet, getting a full 8-10 hours of sleep regularly! It’s looking in the mirror and saying to yourself, everyday, ‘I am good enough. I am worthy of and deserve all the love me friends and family try to give me.’ 

And tonight! Taking care of yourself is having a spa night with Cass and I while we watch anime movies and eat copious amounts of junk food, because we all know that patrol burns an extra 2,000 calories anyway! Plus, we can look at the Affirmations board I have on Pinterest! Cass likes practicing saying them while she beats up bad guys. Says the look on their faces is priceless.”

“Funniest one, I said, ‘I aspire to be a blessing and an inspiration to others.’” Cass recites popping her head out from the mass of blankets, “Guy completely stopped! Then I punched him.”

Night Will Come But Not To Stay

“I cant- I can’t do this anymore! I won’t do this anymore!”

“Promise?”

“…What?” his tears paused for the barest moment, before overflowing again. Bruce was crouched in front of him, tear tracks staining his face.

A moment ago Bruce had been standing with his back to him, untouched by Tim’s words, or perhaps instead, disgusted? 

But perhaps that conclusion was wrong. As Tim searched his face now, it looked more like he was the one in pain and exhausted beyond belief.

His lips were moving, and Tim struggled to catch up.

“What?” he repeated, softly and sniffly, a cord of self-disgust lashing out within him at the pathetic sound of it.

Not just tear tracks, it seemed. Bruce was still shedding tears as he repeated himself.

“Do you promise? That you won’t do this anymore?”

Tim’s mind felt like sludge as he tried to piece together how that request could possibly fit into the context of the last few minutes.

They had been training, not so long ago. Bruce had reached out to Tim first, this time. Offered to train together like they had in the past. Tim had jumped at the chance. He should have known better.

It had been going fine, at first. Great, even.

But his insomnia had been worse than usual this past week, and his other symptoms had been acting up, too. In response to the lack of sleep, maybe, or just the continued pattern he had observed, gradually worsening over time.

Honestly, it was probably a great big mix of things.

But he hadn’t been willing to cancel - not the first thing that he had actually been looking forward to in… too long to think about.

So, he’d shown up anyway, his body begging him to just rest.

They’d warmed up and started sparring.

Well.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes of sparring, and his body went from begging to outright rebellion.

He went down and couldn’t get back up.

And for some stupid reason, Bruce had decided to yell at him to get up.

So, he yelled back.

Yelled.

Screamed.

He’s not even sure what all he said, just that this last added bit of disappointment piled atop the ever-building terror of symptoms and lit the fuse that exploded within him and stole the earth from under his feet. It ripped through him and tore out his throat, multiplying as his view was constrained to the back of the man he respected most, seeming to be utterly unmoved by it all.

His obvious confusion and continued silence spurred Bruce to try to explain.

“Promise me that you’ll stop running yourself into the ground. Please.” He tilted his head to try and catch Tim’s eye. “I know you’ve been struggling, and not just lately. Alfred said you’ve seemed like you’ve been having an especially difficult time for quite a while. He said he had been meaning to bring it up to me before… and that he had tried to talk to you while I was gone, but that he couldn’t get you to stay in one place long enough to broach the subject. I know something’s going on. Tell me about it. Let me help.”

“Something’s going-? Help?” his laugh was incredulous and desperate as he dug his fingers into the mats beneath him before forcing them to relax. “No. You can’t- you can’t help me.” He scoffed. “Was this-“ he waved his hand around to try to indicate this situation that he couldn’t find words for, “this, supposed to be helpful?”

“Well,” Bruce looked a bit sheepish, “when you get stressed, I know you tend to internalize all of it. Direct it all at yourself. I thought if you had something outside yourself to direct it at instead… It had worked for-“ he cut himself off. “Well.” He said again, letting it rest a moment before continuing at a different angle. “What do you mean I can’t help you?”

“I mean, you can’t. I- I already researched it. There’s nothing- I mean, I sure had enough time. I had thought, with how tired I am, that maybe it’d help with my insomnia. You’d think so, right? But no. No. I’m still awake, but now I’m lying there, and I can’t do anything. Because I’m too tired! I’m so tired, Bruce. I thought- I thought I knew what tired was.”

“Tim, you’re not making sense. What’s going on? Why are you so tired?” he shifted to sit down and lifted his arms to give Tim a hug but stopped short, holding there, offering.

Tim fell into his arms and Bruce gathered his son as best he could.

“Turns out The Clench has permanent effects that the cure couldn’t reverse. They’re only just beginning to research it, but I’ve been tracking symptoms. Chronic fatigue and pain, nerve damage, migraines- other things they aren’t sure are connected. There isn’t a cure, and it’s gradually been getting worse. I’ve tried the suggestions though it's hardly any change: diet, exercise, rest, the basics. But it’s all just maintenance, and I can’t-“  he went limp as his eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t do the things I used to be able to. I’m barely making patrol- the rest of the day I’m in bed. I can’t do classes. I had intended- I was going to finish High School, or maybe get my GED. But I have to lay down after taking a shower. I can hardly think anymore. I have to drag myself out of bed to go to the bathroom. I used to be able to do everything, and now I can’t do anything! I can’t help you anymore! And you can’t help me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bruce pulled him closer to his chest and rested his cheek on his head, rocking them back and forth. “It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out.”

“No, it won’t! It’ll never be ok again! Can’t you see? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think! I can’t think, Dad! What use am I now?” his voice broke and Bruce felt his heart break with it.

“Tim,” he gathered Tim’s hands in his own from where they were clutching his shirt, and planted a kiss on his knuckles, smoothing over them with his thumb. “Son, listen to me. You were not born into this world to be useful.” He stopped him before he could interrupt. “I know you like being useful. I like being useful, too. But I need you to listen to me. You are more precious to me than all the stars in the sky. Nothing will change that. When I say, “We’ll figure it out”, I’m not talking about a cure, or some way to make sure you are, quote unquote, “useful”. I mean that we’ll figure out a way for you to live a happy life. A successful life in whatever capacity that it may mean for you. When I say “it’ll be ok”, I don’t mean that I have a fix, I just mean that no matter what, the others and I will be here for you, however you need us. I mean that no matter what happens, you have a place here. You are my son. I love you.” Bruce cradled Tim close again, and their tears mingled where their cheeks pressed together.

“It’s ok. I’m here”

(+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale

Despite still being in the middle of setting things up, the picnic mood was already in full swing. Large blankets were being weighed down by pillows and baskets of assorted snacks. Tables were being laid out to hold the main meal, soon to be a large potluck. No matter how much Alfred insisted on being the one to cook it all, each attendee persisted in bringing something to share. He faintly wondered if they would run out of table space again this time ‘round.

With the majority of the tasks already accomplished, and the remaining tasks hijacked by the ever-enthusiastic young people, Alfred found himself with nothing pressing to do. He made his way over to where Tim sat, transferring water bottles and pop cans from cartons to coolers.

“As much as I appreciate the help, I do so wish they’d stop flinging cutlery across the lawn.”

Tim looked up to watch Steph and Duke and Jason for a moment, trying to suppress his own smirk at the sight of them gleefully tossing said cutlery to each other.

“I mean, it's just plastic, right?”

Alfred sighed as he sat in a camping chair set up next to the coolers. “Yes, but that’s not quite the point. The job is getting done, though, I suppose.”

They sat a moment in pleasant silence, watching as their family milled about, more relaxed than Alfred had seen in years. He hated to break the quiet, but with the entire family around lately and as busy as ever, he had hardly had a decent conversation with any of them. He worried about all of them, of course, and their shared inability to ask for help, but Timothy was an especially quiet lad, when it came to facing problems.

“How are things?”

“Well, all the drinks are already chilled, and we have plenty of ice.”

He shrugged a little at Alfred’s pointed look. “I think they’re ok.” He fiddled a bit with the boxes and tied a fresh garbage bag to the back of a cooler. “Not great, but ok. The weight, the fog… It’s lessened, somehow?”

“Your medication is helping?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a big part of it. But more than that, the way that I think about things now, it’s- I mean, obviously, it’s taken months, and ‘better’ isn’t a word that I’d use- but there’s been progress. And for once? It’s like I can let that progress just, be? I’m not sure how to explain it, really.” He leaned back to stare at the sky. “ I’m still working on things, and putting effort into it, but I guess I’m not expecting things to be fixed completely and immediately.”

Alfred hummed in response encouraging him to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s still frustrating to no end. Trying to ‘let go’ of perfectionism and the control issues… Sometimes I feel more like I’m chopping off parts of myself with the issues rather than just ‘letting them go’. But I’ve been finding new ways to define myself, and it’s been more manageable lately. I can work with manageable. And when it’s not, I have people who make it bearable.” He looked off to where Bruce was welcoming their first guests. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred waited until Tim met his sincere gaze, “I am so proud of you.”

The small smile Tim shot at him reminded him so much of the shy grins that were common when young Timothy had first entered their lives. Alfred’s heart ached for the many children whose smiles he had seen stolen over the years. The moment was cut short as Jason stormed over demanding,

“Tim, Steph is insisting that the 2005 Pride and Prejudice is better than the 1995 version. You have to tell her she’s wrong.”

Steph came bounding over with Duke. “What's wrong with you? Do you hate Kiera Knightley or something?”

Jason took a dramatic step back with his hand on his heart. “You should know better than to ask that question! But the 1995 version is still the better version. It's more faithful to the books! The delivery is stunning! The banter is unsurpassable! And it has Colin. Firth.”

Duke breaks in, “I mean, he’s got a point. They took the time necessary to keep as many details as possible from the book. Elizabeth’s take down of Darcy is unparalleled. When it comes to banter that’s definitely the one to watch. Also, the 2005 Mr. Bennet is kinda creepy, not gonna lie.”

“See? Duke here is a man of taste.”

“But the aesthetic!”  Stephanie cried, “The finger twitch! Darcy looking like a sad puppy in the rain! Elizabeth kissing Darcy’s hand!!! 2005 is a masterpiece! Tim, you tell them!”

“Don’t look at me, I think they’re both great. Besides, I like Jane Eyre better.” Tim says.

The other three stop and stare.

“You know, that makes sense.” Duke said with an assessing look. “Personally, my favorite is the Count of Monte Cristo.”

Jason threw up his hands in defeat. “You guys aren’t even talking about Jane Austen anymore!” They all turned as another car came up the drive. “Oh thank god, Babs is here! She’ll take my side.”

Their conversation faded into the distance as they paraded back across the lawn, dragging Tim into their argument as they went.

Bruce  watched them fondly out of the corner of his eye as he approached in turn.

“The Kent’s are here, save Clark. Lois says he tried a new recipe and wanted to run it past Martha first. Diana’s running a bit late, but for the most part it seems that everyone else will be here in an hour or so. How are things coming along?”

Alfred knew he was asking about more than just picnic preparations. “All is well, Master Bruce. For once, all is well.”

#bbb2020 #batfam big bang 2020 #batfam #batfam fic #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst and fluff #holy crap i cant believe this is finished #tw depression #tw anxiety #tw suicidal thoughts #also talk of chronic illness #part three might hit a little too close to home during current events sorry #shout out to my fellow chronic illness peeps who are grieving the loss of health #i def cried while writing it #tim drake gets a hug #also everyones in therapy btw #all is well alfred says until clark shows up with that accursed sweet tea and restarts their ongoing battle over tea #please imagine the intense eye contact across the lawn as clark sets down the sweet tea at the drinks table smugly #it wouldnt fit in the fic but it fits in my heart #also u better believe that Dev is there!!! #im just too shy to write him

[itsblissfuloblivion]

Torch - Chapter 8: April

Ao3 / FFnet versions

we’re nearly there!!

.

After Ron and Harry’s respective failures in apparition and persuading the ever reluctant Slughorn it feels as though they’re destined for a sorry evening spent moping. Until Hermione pipes up with her small critique of Twycross and suddenly they’re lost in that heady silliness of unstoppable shit-talking that mends the ailing heart. It’s always fun, but somehow Hermione’s added eyerolls and high-class vocabulary offer an extra bit of umph to the whole thing. 

Harry swipes at the tears running down his cheeks while Hermione leads the way to the Great Hall. Ron tosses his arm around Harry’s shoulder. “She’s somethin’ when she’s all riled up, eh?”

“Er - sure?”

“Gets that look - then does something amazing and barmy like sticking Rita in a jar,” Ron shakes his head, blue eyes going all dreamy, “S’ times like these I see where her crazy Gryffindor streak comes in.”

Biting back a grin, Harry silently wishes a certain Gryffindor Chaser wasn’t missing this and nods along with Ron. “Gryffindor streak?”

“Yeah, everybody’s got one,” Ron says while Hermione guides them towards a place at the tables, “Know what I mean, Hermione?”

Inwardly, Harry wonders whether telling Hermione she’s great ‘cause she’s barmy is a good idea. But then Ron surprises him, “Y’know how you’ve got that brave, loyal thing where you’ll mess up anybody who crosses your friends?”

Hermione flushes, “I-”

“Well my theory’s that everybody’s got one of those - it’s their crazy unstoppable Gryffindor thing.”

Harry’s really getting close to excusing himself when she pats at her curls and licks her lips. “Those aren’t exclusively Gryffindor traits - I sometimes wonder about the sorting process altogether,” she pauses, “But I - that’s very sweet Ron. And I do understand the sentiment. Harry’s would be ‘obsessive with an inability to exercise any sort of impulse control.’”

Unable to resist, which does lend some credibility to Hermione’s proclamation, Harry grabs a slice of crusty bread and gestures toward Ron, “What about King Weasley over here?”

“Brave idiot with no sense of self preservation,” Hermione grumbles. Ron’s ears grow red.

Ginny’s arrival is only indicated moments before she actually turns up at Harry’s shoulder, and he sounds a bit creepy because he smells her first. “Hey, Gin.”

She rests one hand on his shoulder and he might almost faint. Ginny throws one leg over the bench and rests her elbow on the table. “Hi all, what’s up here?”

Harry focuses on buttering his roll carefully and answers, “Well, see, Ron has this theory.”

“Never a good thing to hear from a Weasley.”

Hermione laughs and Ron scoffs, “All I said was that I believe every Gryffindor has their Gryffindor streak . That thing that’s just a little bit wild.”

“Sounds like a weird pick up line,” Ginny murmurs to Harry. He buries his chuckle in a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Then for the group at large she asks, “Well, what’s mine?”

“Zero impulse control and a wicked temper,” Hermione supplies easily. 

“You’re just reusing one of mine,” Harry accuses, slanting his knife at Hermione, gravy dripping from the edge.

Ron snickers and shares a glance with Hermione - maybe Ginny’s right about the pick up - and says, “You’re forgetting Hermione and I found you two in your little attempt at surfing brooms over the summer.”

Winking at Harry, Ginny adds, “She’s right anyway, I’m very fiery.”

Then she proceeds to swipe his buttered roll and take a mouthful of a bite. “So what brought this little philosophical discussion up?”

Once they give the basics on Twycross’ obnoxious Percy-esque antics that afternoon, Ginny wholeheartedly agrees and joins in their abuse without hesitation.

Ron grabs his pumpkin juice and raises it in salute, “Your loyalty is valued.”

“I’m the only one who’s allowed to act superior to you,” Ginny says, indignant.

And when Harry snickers, Ginny adds, “Well Hermione too, but she’s a given.”

That earns her an eyeroll from Hermione, though she does laugh along with the rest of the foursome. 

Harry can’t help but bask in how easy it is, how perfect it feels, just the four of them. So when Ginny rises and says she’s going to meet up with Dean, he can’t really trust his judgement that she seems unhappy at the prospect.

He’s so caught up he nearly misses Hermione’s mutterings about Weasleys needing to ‘take their love lives in hand.’

___

Operating under Felix Felicis is a heady sort of feeling and even after the effects are worn off, Harry feels like he’s riding high. Until his emergency meeting with Dumbledore, which is certainly serious but doesn’t deflate him - it’s more like a sense of focus settles in and Harry feels like he finally has direction. For so much of his life at Hogwarts, he’s been fumbling his way along to trying to stop various antagonists all connected to Voldemort. And now he’s closing in on what it’s all really about. 

It’s a small relief to know he’s been on the path to stopping this since second year. The part that’s still somewhat foggy is all Dumbledore’s poetics about Harry’s ability to love. Odd and confusing as it was, Harry’s worried about becoming like Voldemort since seeing snippets of Voldemort’s life as a normal wizard - relatively - at Hogwarts, reading his diary, the visions that feel more real each time, and being told so plainly that he’s different is comforting in a way.

And lately, things have stirred in him that are more than simple infatuation, feelings he doesn’t quite feel ready to name. But they’re strong enough, powerful enough, that he feels just a bit of that strength, the tether Dumbledore seems so sure of. 

It’s hard to sort through his feelings when he hears that Dean and Ginny are no longer together, even harder when Hermione slyly underlines she’s the one who’s ended it. Sure, it’s easy peasy to instantly know what he’s feeling about Ron and Lavender breaking up (a pat on the back and a ‘good riddance’ might have been involved), but with Ginny...eh, that’s a whole other business.

Is he delighted? Yes. Is he relieved? You’d bet. But does this finally make things less complicated? Not in the slightest.

It’s not like he can suddenly kiss her in the middle of the Common Room now that she’s single, right?

The pang of guilt at his Ginny-themed thoughts lessens somewhat after Hermione’s proclamation during Charms. His Ron-related issues certainly remain but with Dean out of the picture, Harry’s really hoping she’s not too upset about the whole thing. Maybe it was all her idea…he has some fairly detailed daydreams where Ginny realized she couldn’t find a match for Harry’s glorious manliness anywhere else. He found himself wondering if he’d been able to replicate even an ounce of Sirius’ coolness. That maybe it’d combine with his relatively superior Quidditch skills and outweigh what Ron terms his ‘specky git’ image.

Ugh. Ron.

___

Harry’s stirring in bed, kicking the sheets to the side then tugging them back again: it’s that late April weather when you’re not quite chilly but it doesn’t feel right sleeping without your covers either. 

Quidditch strategies and players (read: player, girl) with flaming red hair buzz loudly through his thoughts as he wills his mind to just shut down, just go to sleep already.

“Reckon all that feminist talk of independence and shit was just her overcompensating for being a bit easy at first.”

Harry’s eyes pop open and frankly there’s a high possibility the same has happened to a vein on his temple if Dean is talking about who Harry thinks he’s talking, the rotten bastard, the bloody git, the -

“Shush, mate, one of her many brothers might hear you,” Seamus laughs annoyingly and Harry’s one step closer to jumping from behind his drawn curtains and knocking the wind out of them in a surprise attack he promises they’d never be able to forget.

Because Ron might be wandering about Merlin knows where but him, Harry, he’s right there, listening, biding his time.

“Yeah, well, they’d better. I was bloody pissed when Ron threw a temper tantrum when they walked in on us snogging but now I take it back. He was right.”

Prick. Nobody put a wand to his head and forced him to kiss Ginny.

“Wow, you sure are salty,” Seamus laughs again and it sounds like Dean scoffs.

“She dumped me because I tried to help her through the bloody portrait hole, mate. She’s mental, that one, I tell you. First I said alright, she didn’t want to go further than some touches and some snogging, whatever, I said I’d give her time. But blue balls and snapping at me all the time for nothing? Bit too much, don’t you reckon?”

Harry nearly rips the curtains as he violently draws them open, eyes bulging and ready to throttle Dean. Or he’d be if he could see anything - bugger his poor eyesight and bugger his Gryffindor temper, jumping into battle without his glasses.

But Ron is quicker than him, appearing next to Dean in a heartbeat and gripping him by the collar of his robes. Harry doesn’t really know when exactly Ron walked through the door but, judging from his similar reaction, he’d surely been there for the whole blue balls bit.

“I know you’re not talking about my sister like that,” Ron growls dangerously, livid, his grip tighter.

“Get off me,” Dean splutters as Seamus tries to reason with a nearly apoplectic Ron.

In the time it takes Harry to locate his glasses and recover his eyesight, a number of things happen: firstly, Neville wrestles Ron away from Dean; secondly, Dean decides it’s a great moment to tell Ron he’s part of the problem, always sticking his nose in Ginny’s business; thirdly, Ron struggles to remove himself from Neville and grunts that only an idiot would trash talk a girl when her brother shares the room and keeps asking Dean if he’s an idiot; fourthly, and Harry vaguely remembers this, he somehow thrusts his wand underneath Dean’s chin and vows to curse his tongue right off if he ever so much as pronounces Ginny’s name. 

Then they’re out of there, Ron and him, Ron rambling on about how Ginny has six brothers and how the least scary is a poncey Ministry worker with an axe to grind. Harry’d laugh, he really would, if he weren’t so busy fuming himself.

Hermione nearly has a heart attack when they plop grunting next to her on the saggy sofa, disturbing her studies. She gives them a long look, pats their respective arms and turns back to her reading.

They’ll tell her when they’re done raging. Hermione knows it and they know.

For now, they need to boil individually for awhile and then - oh, then they’ll abuse Dean to no end between the three of them.

Harry’s never looked forward to anything more.

___

Harry feels oddly giddy when he walks onto the pitch, adrenaline running through every inch of his body, from his buzzing ears to his fingertips. He’s finally got his team back and that means nothing’s coming between Gryffindor and the Quidditch Cup.

It also means that Dean’s finally out of the team now that Katie’s back, but who’s focusing on details, eh?

“Alright, team!” Ginny grins, arranging her high pony tail and kicking her broom once, twice before she zooms up. “Let’s focus and give everything we have today. We’re going to skin those Ravenclaw gits!”

And though Harry really does appreciate the sentiment and his team’s new found enthusiasm, he is still the captain and thus must maintain his authority. 

“What Ginny said,” he puffs his chest and kicks his broom up too. At least he tried.

He’s well aware of the unsubtle giggling coming from Demelza and Katie as well as Ginny’s sudden determination to fly so close by him Harry’s lungs fill with that flowery scent she carries. Soon enough he’s so dizzy he doesn’t even notice the Quaffle careening straight to his head.

“Wake up, Captain,” Ginny winks and retrieves the Quaffle, immediately pelting it to the hoops with such force and accuracy, Ron’s quite winded when he catches it in his stomach. 

“You did that on purpose!” Ron complains as he angrily rubs at his stomach.

Ginny simply shrugs, “Not my fault you’re such a slowpoke.”

Anticipating a sibling feud about to go down, Harry blows his whistle and calls the team to the centre of the pitch to explain the new tactics and flying formation they’ll use against Ravenclaw. He did channel all his Dean related frustration into drafting them so it’s no surprise when Katie remarks it’s a bit more attack than defence.

“That means we’ll skin them,” Demelza grins, elbowing Ginny.

Harry gets lost in her blazing brown eyes for a beat, then remembers himself and clears his throat. “Right. Peaks, Coote, this time you’ll be focusing on the Keeper. Ginny, Katie, Demelza, you score at full speed while the Beaters keep him busy. Ron, you’re not letting them get into your head; sing Weasley is our King to yourself if you have to but don’t let them mess with you, yeah?”

Everybody nods and from then there’s the most exhausting, gruelling, and rewarding practice Harry’s ever had. He’s completely knackered and entirely chuffed with what they’ve done today, his team.

Once they hit the lockers, steam rising from the small shower cubicles, Harry finally allows himself to relax; his muscles burn as he works every kink on his shoulders, his back. Lather, rinse, towel.

He hears Ron yawn a ‘Later, mate’ before he even gets a chance to get dressed - more than likely running full speed towards the Great Hall for dinner, the ever hungry git.

Harry’s certain he’s the only one left, having heard his team’s cheery goodbyes as they filed out one by one. So he doesn’t think much when he prances around in a towel hanging loose over his hips, plopping on the bench with a satisfied moan as he dries his perpetually messy hair.

“Nice,” Ginny smirks and Harry nearly screams in his decidedly not macho voice.

She’s at the door, eyeing him smugly, big, cheeky grin on her face.

“What are you doing there?” Harry manages to ask her once he’s finished his double over.

“Enjoying myself,” Ginny shrugs, completely unabashed. “See you later, Harry.”

Harry can bet his broom she winks before she closes the door behind her, leaving him staring awkwardly in her wake, little droplets of water streaming down his face, his chest in rivulets.

#itsblissfuloblivion writes torch #torch chapter 8 #hbp fic #missing moments #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #the romione's also getting stronger #next chapter there's THE MOMENT #fab collab #gryffindormischief #fightfortherightsofhouseelves #itsblissfuloblivion

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH17

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warning: NSFW

WC: 3184

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dean wakes up before she does. He lets her sleep, walks out of the room quietly to make some coffee. He feeds the cat, actually wants to fix up breakfast but he doesn’t know how long she’ll be sleeping so he abandons the thought. Instead, he sits down and waits until the time will be reasonable enough to wake her up.

It’s when he sits down at the counter of his kitchen and takes the first sip of his coffee that he thinks that this is it. 

It’s exactly what it should feel like. A simple morning. Waking up, making coffee, and he’s able to share all of it with someone. 

He’s able to share it with her.

If someone would ask him what love feels like, he’d say it’s something just like this.

He really did want to take a picture last night. Was taken aback by the beauty of her in his bed. Blissed out and spit slick, cheeks so pink it matches the color of her cunt. His cum glistening and running out of her pussy. It was perfect.

Of course she didn’t let him. Because apparently, that’s creepy.

He walks to his other bathroom, takes a quick shower there so as not to wake her up because this way, he doesn’t have to walk through the bedroom. 

*

After the shower, he walks around with no shirt and no underwear because he forgot to grab it before he left the room. Now he’s in only his sweatpants. Dean takes his phone, thumbs at his messages. Cas texted that the schedule is full for people watching Jo and Dean didn’t have to go in, and it’s kind of a relief because he’ll have more time with her. 

It’s almost 1PM when he thinks that he maybe should go see if she’s still alive. Dean’s awake for a long while now and he starts to get restless. He’s wondering if it was okay for him to go back to bed, cozying himself up against her but he really doesn’t want to wake her up, doesn’t know if she might get grumpy and if yes, he doesn’t want to be the reason. 

He’s only slept 4 hours, tops. But it felt like ten. He’s in a surprisingly good mood and not tired at all.

The cat’s already nuzzling around by the door, as if he knows that Dean wants to go in there.

As soon as Dean opens the door, the cat’s already on the bed and lies down next to her. 

“Traitor.” Dean whispers. “I should kick you out.”

The cat ignores Dean like it always does, and licks at her fingers instead. He lets the cat licks her awake and walks to the bathroom to draw a bath.

Walking out, she sees Y/N smiling at him. “Hey,”

“Hi,” He can’t stop the beating of his heart, and has long given up on calming it down.

He climbs in next to her, spoons her from behind and kisses her neck. “How are you feeling? Slept alright?”

“Yeah,” Her hand strokes the cat behind its ear. “And you?” She tilts her head back and he props himself on his elbow to look at her. “Nightmares?”

He kisses her forehead, smiles a little. “None.”

She smiles back at him, turns around in his grip, her arms around his body and he pulls her close to his chest. 

“Are you sore?”

“A little.”

“Come on,” He pulls her even closer to his chest, rolls with her until they’ve reached the edge of the bed. He picks her up, still wrapped in the sheets and walks to the bathroom with her draped over his shoulder. 

She’s laughing wholeheartedly. What a beautiful thing to hear.

Dean drops her off, unwraps her from the sheets and helps her into the bath, careful not to take a better look because he’s half hard already. He doesn’t wanna do anything, not if she’s sore. And it’s hard, so fucking hard to resist. Never thought he’d have it in him, never thought he could have this much control over himself.

Y/N sits down in the bath, the foam reaches her throat and he turns the water off. “You're not coming in?” She looks at him a little disappointed, and god dammit, his self control is crumbling.

He kneels next to the tub, bracing his hands on the ledge. “I already took a shower. And it’s better that way. I have control over myself out here, can’t guarantee anything if I get in there.”

She grins, it’s all cocky and it’s not fair that it suits her. “I mean, I don’t mind.”

“Christ,” He exhales, rubs his palm over his face and then he has an inner battle with himself. Common sense wins. “No, you’re sore. You stew in your bath. I’ll be waiting outside.” It takes every ounce in him not to jump right in but someone has got to be reasonable here. Never in his mind would Dean have thought that the reasonable one would be him, though.

She pouts. And that’s not fucking fair either.

“I’ll just ignore you,” He says and stands up. 

Her eyes are glued to his crotch and she bites her lips. 

“My god you’re killing me.” He says, bends down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be outside.”

He walks out, leaving her and it’s hard, so hard to walk away when all he wants to do is stay. There’s a perfect naked girl sitting in his tub, asking him if he wanted to join and he just fucking walks away. The old Dean certainly wouldn’t. But the old Dean also never felt these fucking feelings and it takes every ounce of self control in him not to get in and fuck her stupid. 

Dean gets dressed, wearing underwear, new slacks, new dress shirt. Pulls out a matching jacket to his dress pants, wonders if he should let her choose a tie for him, abandons the thought because he decided not to wear one today. He doesn’t have a meeting where he needs one. Just the usual rounds of checking on products and resellers. If anything he’d probably need a hazmat suit to protect his suit from blood and product stains. He’s got to still find a way to tell her that he’s gonna be out of town for a day or two, though.

He makes the bed, but the cat doesn’t even budge, still lying in the warmth she’s left. Dean can’t blame him, it’s what he would love to do, too. Nonetheless he stares the cat down, “You know that you’re not allowed in here.” 

The cat yawns, lifts his head and sends him a deadpan look as if to challenge Dean. As if he wants to say So? Whatchu gonna do about it, huh?

Dean rolls his eyes and walks out, stops at the bathroom door in passing. “You want breakfast?” 

“You’re making breakfast?” She asks in return, and looks at him, her hands on her head as she massages shampoo into her hair. 

God, would it really be bad to take a picture?

“Omelettes.” He says, leans against the door frame and purses his lips to a grin, feels a little proud of his cooking skills. 

“Sounds perfect.” She says and he nods at that. 

He doesn’t dare to walk in because his self control is held together by an extra thin wire at the sight. Her tits are above the water and foam, looks fucking inviting as they jingle when she washes her hair. 

*

She sits down at the counter and Dean serves her omelette, adding three strips of bacon onto her plate and three on his. He’d had more but he ended up eating them while he waited for her. 

“I feel spoiled.” She says, taking a bite out of a strip of bacon. 

Dean pours her coffee and orange juice and sits beside her to eat with her. “Well, you’re a princess. A bratty one, but still…” 

He sees her cheek turn pink. Cutest little thing. 

“What are your plans for today?” Dean asks, he’s just curious, is hoping that he maybe can spend some time with her. 

“Was thinking about going to the gym or jogging in the park.” 

“I have a gym in the bunker.” He says, his ears are burning a little because he’s blushing and he thinks she sees through him. Knows that he suggested it because he wants to spend more time with her, “We could go there. Do some sparring.” 

“I don’t have any gym gear with me.” 

“You don’t need them for sparring.” 

She grins then, “I don’t have any underwear.”

Dean couldn’t hide the irritation that built in his throat and it came out as a groan. He stands up abruptly, takes their empty plates, mugs and glasses and places them into the machine, cleans his hand and walks up behind her. He braces his hands on the counter, lowers his face so his mouth is next to her ear.  

“Let’s go buy some.” 

He places a kiss on her temple, couldn’t not do it, is drawn to her and feels the need to touch her when she’s close. She tilts her head to look up at him, rolls her eyes and he just winks.

Dean has parked his car at the curb, and gets out. Today is an Impala kind of day, apparently. Y/N gets out too, doesn’t wait for him to open up for her but he walks around the front hastily, holds the door open wider until she’s out completely. 

She looks at the store they parked at. It’s a high end lingerie store and she swallows. A bra probably costs more than she makes in a month at her bartending job. 

He slams the door to his car close, stands here and holds out his hand for her to take. 

She does but shakes her head, “We can’t go in there.” 

The store’s busy. There’s always coming and going, mostly the customers are women. Good looking women. Women who are dressed properly. Not in a faded out stone washed jean skirt and a white shirt with alcohol stains on it. 

“Why not?” He asks, and she feels that he’s a little offended that she thinks his idea of a store might not match hers.

“Look at you!” Y/N says and Dean looks down to himself. “You’re looking like a perfect walking ad for some expensive perfume and then there’s me. I look like I just came out of a very rough frat party where I did more rounds of beer pongs than I could take.” She makes a frustrating sound in her throat.

Dean’s grip on her hand tightens and he throws his head back, laughing out loud. People on the streets are already staring, which makes this even more uncomfortable. 

She looks down at her toes. Yeah, she also wears boots. And all the women going in and out of the store wore pretty high heels. “And my boots.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t wear cowboy boots.” Dean winks at her, a grin on his face like the little shit he is. 

“Shut up.” She pouts deliberately, kind of knows what effect it has on him. 

“Hey,” He pushes his fingers under her chin, tilts her head up. “We’ll be alright. Do you think it’s easy for me to go in there? If people will stare, they will stare at me.” 

And maybe he’s right… but still. 

“I have this big hickey on my throat.”

Dean raises an eyebrow at that, “So?”

“They’ll think you’re my sugar daddy.” She mumbles. 

Dean grins, kisses her pout. “Do you want me to be your sugar daddy?” 

Her eyes widened and he chuckles before he adds, “Just saying, sweetheart. At this point, I’m ready to be whatever you want me to be.”

He takes her hand, ignores the red in her cheeks and pulls her towards the entrance of the store.

*

“Dean, I can’t try anything on, I’m not wearing underwear.” She whispers, as he ushers her to the back where the changing rooms are situated. 

“We’ll just have to buy everything you try on.” He says as if it’s no fucking big deal. 

Ugh.

Dean leads her into a changing room, sits right in front of it as a woman comes around to ask what they want. Dean takes the lead, telling her to bring a ton of different panties in Y/N’s size.

Soon the stack arrives and she closes the curtain to the changing room, Dean’s grinning smugly. Before the curtain closes, she sees him taking out his phone, is sure that he’s going to probably do some work when she tries things on. 

She tries a pink lace panty first, quite likes it because it’s different from the lace she buys. Some expensive shit, she guesses. She glances at the price tag, and suddenly feels very nauseous because she’s not gonna make him spend so much money on freaking fabric. 

But she figured that since she’s already wearing this pair, she might as well keep it on because there’s no way the store’s going to take it back. She peeks through the curtain, calling Dean to come in. 

He raises an eyebrow, pockets his phone back into his pants and slips in like it’s no big deal, even when people are watching. 

Dean sits on the leather seat in the too big changing room and leans his back against the wall. “What’s wrong?”

She had already put on her skirt over the panties. “I can’t let you buy these. Have you seen the price tags?” Her fingers point at the stack of panties which she didn’t even touch yet.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean brushes it off like it’s really not a big fucking deal.

“Well, I’m already wearing one, so I guess you have to buy this.” She lifts up her skirt to show it to him. 

“Christ, Y/N.” Dean lets out, his eyes fall on the curtain, sees that it’s secured, so he turns his face back to her and in the next breath he talks, his voice a little deeper, “Lose the skirt. I wanna see.”

She loses the skirt, steps out of it and turns around. There’s a mirror in front of her. She pulls her panties up on the side. Looking into the mirror, she sees Dean looking at her ass, his hands coming up to knead her cheeks.

“Fucking perfect,” He spanks both her cheeks with both of his big hands and she has to bite down on her bottom lip so as not to make a sound. 

“Come here,” He pats his thighs and she’s about to climb in but then he says “No, turn around. Feet on my knees, head on my shoulder.” 

She does what he’s telling her, feels a little weird since they’re in public.

“Look at you,” Dean whispers next to her ear, his nose nudging at her cheeks. She knows now what he’s talking about, sees their reflection in the mirror. 

His finger finds the seam of the crotch of her panties, pulls them aside, revealing her pussy that’s indeed so fucking soaked already. He takes her in, watches her through the mirror, but he doesn’t touch her where she aches for him. Instead, he lets his finger wander, strokes the back of her thighs, up and down, slowly. 

Too fucking slow. 

“Dean,” It came out whiny, she doesn’t even care. 

“You want me to touch you?” His voice drops, it’s barely a whisper next to her ear. 

“Uh-huh,” 

“Uh-huh? Right here in this changing room? Where everyone could come in and see you?” 

He cups her pussy with his right hand and she gasps. 

Dean chuckles, the pad of his fingers rubs at her clit and she closes her eyes. “No, baby,” He says, his voice is strained, she feels the bulge underneath her ass. “I want you to look at yourself. Such a beautiful sight.”

She opens her eyes, her lids are heavy. 

“You’re so wet,” He whispers. “Does it feel good, huh?” 

“Yea—” The word gets chopped off, because he pushes two fingers inside. “—Fuck.” 

“Good girl,” Dean says, “So responsive.” He curves his fingers just right, but avoids going too deep. 

She thinks it’s because he thinks she’s still sore and partly because she might squirt and that would be really messy.

He rubs at her clit with three of the fingers of his left hand while he fucks her steadily with his right hand, all the while whispering to her.

“You like that, don’t you? Knowing that someone could walk in on us and see me fucking you with my fingers.” 

It’s a turn on she’s ashamed to admit. 

“My god, my fingers are drenched. I think you dripped onto my pants. Not gonna change them, though. Gotta walk around let people see how wet you were for me,” He sucks in her earlobe and she let out a broken moan.

“Gotta be quiet, baby.” 

Y/N nods, biting down on her lips. 

“Yeah, good girl.” He says, nosing at the back of her ear and it sends chills throughout her body. “Can you come for me? You’re close, I can feel it.” 

“Uh-huh,”

“Uh-huh? Come and look at yourself, I want you to see what I see when I look at you. Want you to see how beautiful you look when you come undone.” 

“K-keep on rubbing.” She manages to whisper. “Just like that, yes..”

Dean chuckles, rubs her faster. 

She comes with a shriek and Dean rubs and fucks her through it, holding her up by literally the tips of his fingers as she writhes above him. 

“You’re fucking amazing.” He’s breathing hard himself, and she tilts her head, looking him in his darkened eyes. 

He kisses her, deep, messy and just perfect. 

After a while he pulls his fingers out of her, the squelching sound loud in the room and she can’t hold back the whine she lets out. He stands up then, helping her back onto her feet, holds her to him when he sees that she’s still struggling. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” She looks up and he’s smiling before he helps her take off the pair of pink lace panties she’s wearing. He lets her get out of them before bending down to pick them off the floor and proceeds to clean the mess between her legs with them. 

“Dean!” She scolds.

He shrugs, “Gotta pay them anyway?” Then he adds, “Right, I gotta wait outside before I’m doing something I’m not supposed to do in here. And shut up, I know that we weren’t supposed to do what we just did either. You pick out the ones you want, okay?” 

She nods, and watches him tear at the price tag on the lace underwear before letting the fabric slip into the pocket of his suit jacket. He winks before he steps out, and to say that she blushes is an understatement. Her face is on fire.

CH18

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