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waywardrose13 · 3 years

Text

Touch of Betrayal

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Angst, smut, smidge of fluff, graphic abuse, graphic depictions of injuries, fucked up coven, language, all the angst, not enough editing to satisfy me

Word Count: 20,538

Summary: As the oldest sibling, Y/n was supposed to be sacrificed for the betterment of her coven. After her escape, she meets Bobby Singer, who takes her under his wing. It is no secret Dean Winchester hates witches, but Y/n is different, and Dean begins to question his feelings. When Sam is threatened and Dean is given an ultimatum, the trust and feelings that have grown between Y/n and Dean is jeopardized. The touch of betrayal stings.

Commissioned by anonymous:)

A/N- To the lovely soul who commissioned this fic, I hope you enjoy!

Y/N

You could feel the blood from the shackles trickling down your fingers, dripping onto the backs of your bare knees. Shivering, the autumnal air bit at your skin and seeped into your bones. The cold wasn’t the only thing making you shiver, however. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the gold blade laying on the stone pedestal in front of you. Soon, that blade would slice through not only your throat, but four other eldest children of the founding families; Freya, age twenty-four; Marxicus, age twenty-two; Sera, age twenty; Gunthias, age twenty-two; and finally, you, the youngest at twenty-one.

The thin slip hanging from your body did nothing against the cold, your bare limbs exposed to the night air, droplets of blood dotting the backs of your legs. Those damn shackles had cut into your wrists for three days. You could feel how raw your skin was beneath the cool metal. However, it didn’t really matter seeing how you would be dead once the moon reached its apex.

Sera was sobbing loudly to your left. Some of the coven, maybe a handful, looked on empathetically. The majority stared with disgust at her emotional state. Your mother’s words rang in your head from the night before. “This is an honor. Do not embarrass me tomorrow.”

You scanned the gathering. Many people were drinking goblets of harvest mead, others were conversing lowly in small packs. Many people were simply watching you and the other sacrifices, taking in every inch, as if staring so intently would siphon even more power.

No one caught your eye in particular. Not until you spotted him.

His dark eyes were trained on you intently. Biting your lip to keep it from wobbling, you took a deep, steadying breath. Don’t embarrass me, don’t embarrass me, don’t embarrass me.

As the world faded away, you and Jasper locked in a silent pining, you wondered what it would have been like if you had been able to go through with the wedding. As a female within the coven, you were obligated to have children unless you absolutely couldn’t, so maybe the two of you would have had a few kids, settled in a cabin on the outskirts of the compound. The marriage may have been arranged, but you were friends before lovers. You were lucky when it came to that. Most people were strangers up until their wedding night. You had the privilege of at least knowing Jasper, even if you weren’t friends until after the arrangement had been made. You would have been happy.

Instead, your heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again, the thought of him marrying someone else and fathering someone else’s children. You weren’t sure if you loved him like that. Yes, you loved him. He was your best friend. You loved him with everything you had. However, you weren’t sure if you were in love with him. It was rare that the marriages in the coven had any love. You could see yourself falling for him, though. If given the opportunity, he would be easy to fall in love with.

Of all those secret meetings and passionate embraces, you wondered what it would have been like to be together in the public eye. Sneaking off was fun and thrilling, the secrecy and forbidden joinings exhilarating and they certainly helped you fuel the rebellion against your parents and the coven. You two weren’t supposed to be together in any way, even in a friendly manner, until after the wedding. But those meetings? After finding out about your arrangement, you two decided to get to know each other on your terms, not your parents’. Those friendly meetings had turned into so much more, and they were fun. Fun was a rarity in the coven. You and Jasper always had fun. He was a fantastic lover, much more experienced than you were, seeing as he had been your first. You two never spoke about it. It just sort of happened one night. There was no true romance, no heart skipping love. Just two friends having some fun before they were married.

Then your older brother Danny had died, and suddenly your world had crashed down around you. You were suddenly the oldest child. You were going to be sacrificed, the power transferring to you the moment Danny took his last breath. Not only had you lost your best friend, but your future had been rewritten; the arrangement made for you and Jasper had withered, and you were going to be murdered in a blood sacrifice in three years.

You and Jasper no longer were to be married, but that didn’t stop the meetings. That didn’t stop the passion. After Danny, you needed the distraction. You spent more nights with Jasper than you did alone. Not that he complained.

Your last night of freedom was different. Typically, the nights spent together were fast, primal, and more often than not, rough. Three nights ago, your final night spent free, or as free as you could get inside the coven, was spent with your family. Then after they had gone to bed, your mother excited for your honorable sacrifice, your siblings looking forward to furthering their power, and your father despondent and sullen- the thought of losing another child weighing on him- you had snuck out to meet with Jasper for the final time. And like he had been your first time, he was slow and tender. Emotion poured from him and it had frightened you. You knew he felt more for you than you did for him. You also knew you couldn’t let yourself feel that way, not knowing your fate. You couldn’t give into your own temptation, or let him taste the sweet tang of the promise of forever, not when you were being ripped from the world by a cruel hand. You two had spent the whole night together, words a rarity, speaking with your bodies, saying goodbye. He was your best friend, your confidant and solace. The person you wished you had the time to love.

He stepped closer to the circle of stones, face still shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering orange lanterns hung by iron wroughts. Ever so slowly, he lifted a hand, a deep yellow spark igniting at the tips of his fingers. They settled there for a moment, glowing bright in the dark, but no one seemed to notice. No. This was for you and you only. Jasper loved art, and that’s what his magic was. The light danced in his palm and glided around in swirls in the air above his outstretched arm.

He was distracting you. Keeping your mind elsewhere as the elders, cloaked in the charcoal gray robes of their ancestors, stepped up onto the dais. Grisha, the High Priestess of your coven, chanted in latin. If you paid more attention, you could know what she was saying. But you stayed focused on Jasper, even as his figure trembled in the light, face pinched to keep emotion from showing. Your heart ached at the sight and you so desperately longed to run your fingers through his chocolate curls one last time. Wanted to feel his strong hand in yours. Wanted to run away from here with him.

But if there was something Jasper was, it was loyal. And his family came before you. He would never leave them, never leave the compound or abandon the coven. Not even for you.

As a founding family, your father was amongst the robed figures. It was by the hand of the creator who committed the sacrifice. For generations, parents held the golden blade to their children’s throat to spill their blood upon the stones. You glanced down at your bare knees, noting the stone’s color; black and a deep gray. The stones were once as pale gray as the standing stones that formed the circle. But each sacrificial slab had held so much death, the color was no longer so.

It made you shiver.

The light flickered brighter across the circle and you raised your eyes to Jasper again. His own dark eyes were pleading with you across the grass, begging you to keep your gaze on him. Begging you to stay locked with him for as long as you could.

So you obliged.

Sera was first. The volume of her sobs increased. She screamed and pleaded with her mother, blubbering and crying until suddenly, she gurgled, and a thud echoed ominously across the circle. You shook violently and you were afraid of collapsing. Jasper brightened his tendrils of light, forming small animal shapes; rabbits hopping, birds flying, butterflies flitting. His distractions only went so far.

Marxicus was next. He had been stone still and completely silent. As his father raised the blade to his throat, all he said was, “sancti libera me.”

Saints liberate me.

The blade smoothly sliced open his throat, and he slumped to the stone heavily.

Freya cursed at her father, both in English and in Italian, snapping and snarling and fighting until the end. She didn’t die immediately. She had fought hard enough that the blade hadn’t sliced through her artery. Her father gripped a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back before pressing harder and deeper into her throat until blood sprayed across his face and her body fell.

You thought you might vomit. Or faint. Or both.

Gunthias pleaded without tears, but begged nonetheless. You saw the blade slice his throat from the corner of your eye, watching as his body fell and slipped half-way off the stone slab.

Finally, as the youngest, you were up. You were shaking so hard, you thought you might fall if it wasn’t for your father’s hand landing on your shoulder. Jasper’s light flickered slightly, dulling into small swirls of yellow dust around his palm. He was too frightened to conjure enough power. He half turned, as if he was going to run, but thought better of it. His eyes never left yours.

Yours left his, however. You scanned the crowd one last time for your family. It didn’t take you long. Your siblings were hugging each other, the twins- Margot and Matthias, both clinging onto each other as if their lives depended on it. Your mother stood over them, hands clasped beneath her chin, lips murmuring a prayer to the Gods as she watched with eyes full of elation. She smirked lightly at you as she caught your gaze, giving you a deep nod.

You looked away quickly, finding Jasper one last time. He was still there, as he said he would be. Always.

The blade was wet and sticky with blood against your throat. You trembled and murmured a prayer to your Gods, wishing for a quick death, hoping the afterlife was as glorious as promised, hoping this was fucking worth it-

The blade swiped through the air, missing you by mere inches, before it lodged itself into Grisha’s chest.

Gasps and screams erupted from the crowd as the High Priestess shrieked and keeled over, clutching at her chest as she began to spasm. You met Jasper’s eyes one more time, his face stunned and eyes impossibly wide. Your father gripped you under your arms and lifted you from the slab.

Then you two were running.

Your father raised his shields as the coven went wild. Many people cowered in fear. Your father had just killed the High Priestess. If he did that, what was stopping him from killing them?

Others were sending out powerful blasts of energy to slow you two down. But your father simply gripped your arm tighter and sprinted from the circle and into the field, the tall grass whipping at your bare legs, your feet slicing from thorns, but you didn’t care. You were escaping. You could do this.

“Faster, Y/n/n!”

You pumped your legs until they burned as the two of you ran. Shouts and battle cries erupted from behind you and you knew the two of you were being chased. Of course you would be. They couldn’t finish the sacrifice. The power would not be fully replenished.

You had to die.

But you didn’t want to. You spent your whole life confined inside the damn coven, in the damn compound. You wished to see the world, wanted to experience life outside. You wanted to live- for you and for Danny.

“Faster. Please, run faster!”

Your father pulled you along until you were nearly stumbling. He noticed and sent a quick surge of purple light, the shackles bound to your wrists bursting apart. You winced as the air hit your raw skin but you were now able to run with more balance.

Finally, you broke through the trees. The confinement within the branches helped shield you from the onslaught of power surges being sent your way. If you were caught, not only would you be killed, but your father would be too. He would be deemed a traitor to the coven, and treason was the highest offense you could commit.

“Where are we going?” You panted between breaths. Your lungs burned and you tried your best to ignore it, but you had never been one for running or for sports. Not to mention, you had been locked away in the Harvest Rite cabin for three days, shackled to a “room” that was really a cell, locked from the sunlight for three days so the harvest moon would touch your spirit better or some shit. Honestly, you had no idea, not interested in the faux explanation the coven founders had spouted centuries ago.

“Anywhere but here,” your father said breathlessly. “We need to get you somewhere safe. Then we can-”

Red light collided with your father’s back, sending him sprawling. You yelled in surprise and skidded to a halt, falling to your knees beside him. The magic seeped into his back and erupted through his chest in bloody bursts, clawing its way free.

“Daddy!”

“Go! Y/n, please! Go!”

You shook your head and sobbed, covering his chest with your hands, his blood warm against your chilled skin.

“No, no I can’t leave you!” You said. The shouting grew louder and you knew the ones chasing you were close. But how were you to leave him? Especially when he risked himself for you.

“You must. Please, Y/n/n. Please.” His eyes, ones matching yours, pleaded with you behind light lashes. He retched, blood dribbling from his lips. He gripped your hands with his. “I would die a thousand deaths before I would let them kill you. I… I can’t lose… another one.”

You knew he was talking about Danny, about that fateful day that your older brother had drowned in the lake. How the grief had radiated from your father so potently, it physically pained you. It was the worst day of your life. Now you had to watch another person you loved die.

“Don’t go,” you whispered. “Please don’t go.” You laid your forehead to his, the metallic scent of blood surrounding you.

“I… I love you… I… want you to… live… for me… and for… D-Danny… Please… run.”

“I love you, too,” you said. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pushed yourself up, giving him one more glance, torn between running and fighting the bastards who did this.

“Go. Please. I love you. Go,” he said weakly. His body went limp and you knew that was it.

Letting a scream of outrage bubble in your chest, you vowed to personally kill every single last one of the fuckers who did this. You vowed to avenge your father. Freya. Marxicus. Gunthias. Sera.

Yourself.

Letting your shields surround you and your glamour conceal you, you turned and sprinted deep into the woods, trying to keep your anger and sorrow at bay long enough to prepare yourself to step foot into the outside world for the first time in your twenty-one years of life.

DEAN

“Screw you.”

Dean laughed and reached forward to scoop up Sam’s cards, shuffling them with the larger stack of cards in the center of the table. He had won three games in a row now, and he was pushing for a fourth.

“Admit it, Sammy,” he said, leaning back into his chair. “You just suck.”

“Shut up, jerk. Deal the damn cards.” Sam sat forward and shook out his hands. Dean snickered and dealt cards to himself and his brother.

“Quit while you can, bitch,” Dean said. “Losing four times in a row? Pathetic.”

“Will you two shut the hell up?” The brothers looked up at the doorway, Bobby trudging in from the hallway with a beer in one hand and a leather bound book in the other. “Some of us need to research.”

Dean sipped his own beer and threw a handful of salted peanuts into his mouth. “How much more research could you possibly have to do? Don’t you ever just… chill?”

Sam furrowed his brows, mouthing the word “chill?” to his brother. Since when had they known Bobby to “chill?”

Bobby grumbled something under his breath and sat down at his desk. “Maybe if you researched more, you wouldn’t have to ask me for help all the time.”

Sam spit out his beer, doubling over in laughter. Dean wasn’t as amused and he threw his next handful of peanuts at his brother.

“Children,” Bobby muttered.

The rest of the night went by in a similar manner. Dean won the fourth round, and the fifth, and then Sam finally gave up before suggesting a new game in which he promptly beat Dean’s ass. Bobby silently read and scribbled notes, answering a phone call around nine.

“You boys up for a hunt?”

Dean rubbed his hands together and lifted his brows. “When aren’t we?”

“Dean, we just finished one yesterday,” Sam said, putting the stack of cards back into the worn box. Dean shrugged and got up from his seat.

“Sounds simple, probably a vengeful spirit,” Bobby said, handing Dean his notes. Dean read over them to himself before silently handing them to Sam who did the same thing. “Should be a one and done thing.”

“Yeah, why not?” Sam sighed.

Bobby waved the brother’s off, Dean speeding from the long, dirt driveway with AC/DC blasting from the stereo. Sam chewed lightly on the tip of his pen as he made some of his own marks to Bobby’s notes.

“So what, you're gonna find another hunt right after this one again? Maybe it’ll take you twelve hours instead of a full day next time.”

Dean’s hands curled tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He liked hunting, so what? Was he throwing himself into hunts more often than not recently? Sure. But they helped. They helped with the rage that simmered beneath his hands. They helped with the itching feeling he got whenever he thought of hell.

Fucking hell.

Literally.

It hadn’t even been three months since he returned to the land of the living. Sam was still in the dark and Dean planned on keeping it that way. He wouldn’t subject his younger brother to the horrors of hell, what he experienced or what he did. He shared everything with Sam. He wanted to keep this to himself.

Hunting helped relieve some of that pent up aggression and fear that burned beneath his bones like fire. Saving people, hunting things. That was his motto, right? Saving people now when he couldn’t in hell, when he caused people pain. Hunting things and killing them to let out some of that burning rage.

If Sam suspected anything, he didn’t say so. Dean thought he might have a few times, but he would quickly change the subject or cut him off.

No chick-flick moments. Another motto he planned to live by.

So he pressed a little harder on the gas pedal, Baby revving beneath him, trees a blur outside his window. He simply let himself drive and listen to his music, thankful he even got to do this, that he could hunt and be with his brother and live.

Even if he wasn’t truly free from the confinement of his own mind, or the burdens of his guilt.

Y/N

It had been nearly a week since you escaped.

A week of hiding and traveling.

You had no money, no way of knowing where you were, no knowledge of anything besides your coven.

Luckily, it seemed you were in the middle of nowhere. You had come across a rundown building with broken windows and shutters that hung from their hinges. Taking a peek inside, you realized it must have been abandoned ages ago. Branches, leaves, and cobwebs littered the inside. You had carefully maneuvered around the broken glass and into a small room. A moth-eaten couch sat cockeyed in the old living room, drapes pooled on the floor beneath the dirt covered windows, dusty books and picture frames laid forgotten on the floor underneath wall to wall shelves.

You still shivered in your shift, but there were a pair of boots by the front door. A quick inspection found the inside to be worn but wearable. After plucking out leaves and a small spider in one of them, you slipped them onto your feet. They were a bit big on you, but they would have to do until you could figure out your next course of action.

You raided the house, finding a small backpack to take with you. You couldn’t stay in a place like this. The only furniture was that god-awful couch and a table in one of the upstairs rooms. But you found a pocket knife, a flashlight (with no batteries), and you had taken a few of the books from the floor, stuffing the items in the backpack before continuing with your journey.

For the rest of the week, you would find small places to settle for the night within the woods. Cover beneath large rocks, crannies between cliffs, in the low branches of trees. You didn’t dare risk making a fire, not with your coven on the lookout for you. Instead, you would summon a warm ball of light to keep you from freezing to death. You would nestle the light and smaller droplets of light around your body as you slept, one hand on the pocket knife, the other cradling your head as a pillow.

You thought of your father every waking hour.

You missed him so much. It seemed as if he was the only one in your family who actually cared about you. Your siblings were too young to really understand anything about the coven, and they saw you more as a prized possession than an older sister. Your mother was devoted to the coven and its members. She loved you. In her own way. But not like your siblings. You were a possession. A thing full of intense power that would eventually return that power to the coven to fuel and replenish it.

You hated it.

You hated that damn coven and its traditional ways. You heard of covens that were modernized and didn’t sacrifice, covens that lived in the modern world. You didn’t know if they were real or not.

You wished your father was with you. He loved you and cherished you as a daughter, not a weapon. You two had always been close. And it was because of you that he was dead.

A week went by, and you were walking along a dark road. The road was made of black stone, white dotted lines painted down the center. You weren’t completely ignorant of the outside world. You knew what roads were, had heard about cars and telephones.

That amongst other little things was all you knew.

Being alone was terrifying.

You allowed yourself to cry. Your mother always told you crying was a sign of weakness, but she wasn’t here. You were alone. For the first time, you were alone in a world that was foreign to you. But you were free.

A low rumbling sounded from behind you. Turning, you caught sight of a large machine barreling towards you. Wheels spun quickly and two lights flashed in your face from the front of it.

A car.

You watched in awe as it sped past you and then stopped a little distance ahead. A man in jeans and a flannel pushed open a door and slipped from the raised seat. A hat with a brim shading his eyes sat on his head, a gray beard covering the bottom of his face. He took a few steps towards you which made you step back.

“You alright, girl?”

His voice was gruff and slightly accented. It reminded you of your father’s voice. You subconsciously took a step towards him, desperate to hang on to that feeling of familiarity that had to do with your father’s memory.

“Miss?”

You stopped when you realized he was taking steps towards you. What was the worst that could happen? If the man tried to hurt you, you would be able to stop him with a single thought. You were a witch, and a damn powerful one. He doesn’t even know witches exist.

“Can I drive you anywhere?”

“No,” you answered honestly. Where could you go? You had nowhere. You left your only home behind and you didn’t have any money. Fuck, you really had nothing. Panic began to creep up your throat.

“Okay,” the man said slowly. “Do you need help?”

Yes, yes, yes. You wanted to let him help you. But what would you say? Oh yeah, my family comes from a closed off coven and my father saved me from having my throat sliced open in a traditional sacrifice, then he was killed while we ran. I have no money, no clothes, and absolutely no where to go.

“I…”

“You look freezing. Let me help you out. I’ll get you something to eat and we’ll figure it out.”

Right to business he was. You glanced down at yourself, skin prickled in gooseflesh from the cold, your slip dirty and ripped in some places. Your feet ached in those too-big boots and your stomach growled in hunger. The berries and bark you had eaten for the past week left you starving for more.

Going against your better judgement, you gave in. He helped you up into the truck. You hugged your backpack to your chest, body ready to bolt if he tried anything. He gave you one last look before the car started moving. You started, gasping a little. The man flinched.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you responded quickly. He grumbled something and the truck went faster.

It was an odd feeling, but one you became accustomed to quickly. You felt his eyes on you again, as if he was sizing you up, and it made you a bit uncomfortable. You shifted in your seat. He seemed to notice and promptly looked away.

Not too long later, he was pulling the truck onto a dirt road. Various crushed and mangled pieces of metal were scattered along the yard. It didn’t take you long to realize they seemed to be old cars, scraps of such that the man must use for something. Tools lay forgotten all around, random bits of chain flung here and there.

Water suddenly splashed over your face.

Jumping, you spun to face him with a bewildered look. He looked you up and down again before reaching into his pocket, revealing a knife.

You reached for the door handle, trying to push open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. This was it. You were dead.

“Calm down, girl,” he said. He reached forward to grab your arm and you whined. You didn’t want to resort to using your powers, but you would if you absolutely had to. “I’m just testing you.”

“What?” You asked. He pressed the tip of the knife into your forearm. It pinched for a moment and was gone almost instantly, a tiny droplet of blood forming where it had knicked you. “What the hell was that for?”

“Precaution,” was all he said as he clicked a button and opened his door. He walked around the truck before he opened your door and offered you a hand. You looked at it suspiciously. You needed to leave. You should leave. You were also incredibly confused. The man rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt ‘ya. Well, not anymore. That was more for my safety than anything.”

“How?” You asked.

“I thought you were… nevermind. Just, get out of the car, will ‘ya?”

You narrowed your eyes and let your power inch into his head. It slithered inside and easily found his thoughts. You were a telepath, rare in the witch world, and you weren’t very practiced with it, but it came in handy for situations like this, you supposed. Your mother hated that you were a telepath. Danny was a telepath, and anything that reminded her of him was strictly forbidden. And ever since he died, you were forbidden to use your telepathy, and that led to you being incredibly out of practice.

...Didn’t mean to hurt her… she could have been a shifter… I could have sworn she was something…. She looks scared… probably just a runaway… she doesn’t look very old… why is she staring at me like that...

You pulled your power back and took his hand. The thoughts were quiet and breaking up, but you could make out most of what he was thinking. A shifter? As in shapeshifter? As a witch, you knew about some of the other supernatural creatures. But how would a human know about them?

Leading you into the house, the man kept sparing you odd glances, and you hugged your backpack even tighter to your chest. The inside of the house was dark and dingy, cluttered with old books and boxes. The man gestured to a small round sitting table in the kitchen. You sat down slowly, watching as he pulled out bread and some meat from the refrigerator.

“What’s your name?” He asked. He set the plate down in front of you as well as a glass of water. You tentatively reached forward for the sandwich, made up of some meat and cheese and lettuce, the bread spongier than the homemade kind your mother made at home. You picked it up, sniffing it. “It’s just a sandwich. It won’t kill you.”

Thinking back to the knife in the truck, and the scabbed droplet of blood on your arm, you scowled, but took a bite anyway.

The man pushed over his own sandwich not a minute later, seeing how hungry you were.

“Y/n,” you said after finishing the first sandwich, picking up the second one. You wiped the crumbs with the back of your hand and drank the glass of water deeply, gulping down every last drop. The man pushed his water over as well. You drank that, too.

“Okay, Y/n,” he said. He watched you carefully. “Why were you out on the road like that, dressed in a nightgown when it’s forty degrees out, at almost ten at night?”

You paused and chewed your bite of sandwich slowly. You wouldn’t tell him everything. But he seemed to be kind. And he reminded you so much of your father…

“I ran away.”

The man sighed and nodded. “I figured. You an adult?”

“I just celebrated my twenty-first year.”

He blinked at you, mouth opening to say something, closing it only a moment after. He furrowed his brows. “Odd way of saying it, but okay.” He scratched his chin. “Why did you run away?”

You blanched. You weren’t expecting that question, although you should have. You swallowed the food in your mouth. “Um…”

“I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me,” he said gruffly, making you frown.

“Um… well… It’s hard to explain,” you said truthfully. How were you supposed to explain your situation to him?

The man leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. “I guess if you don’t want to tell me right away, you don’t have to.” He looked you over, noting the still bruised wrists from the shackles and the cuts and various other small wounds from your coven and from spending a week in the woods. He swallowed hard at the sight of them. He reached a hand out for yours, and you obliged. He gently touched the wounds on your wrist, getting up to reach for a box in a cabinet over the sink.

Restraints?... I wonder…

That was all you could get from his head. You wished you were more practiced in your telepathy. Life would be much easier for you.

As he cleaned, applied salve, and dressed your wrists, his face was pulled into a pondering pout the whole time. His silent conversation with himself prompted a quick shake of his head to clear his mind before he was patting your forearm.

“Look, I know you don’t know me. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you have gone through and you don’t have to tell me. But I won’t hurt you, and I sure as hell won’t let anyone hurt you any more. I don’t know what caused these wounds but… I have an imagination. Just… you can stay as long as you want to, or need to. I have a spare room upstairs. I won’t bother you or nothing, but it’ll give you time to heal and get your shit together.” He thought for a moment before adding, “That is- if you want to.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Without thinking, you had wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, hugging him tightly. He grunted and hesitated before patting your back stiffly.

“Okay,” was all he said. You pulled back and grinned shyly.

“Thank you, sir,” you said.

“Call me Bobby.”

DEAN

“Piece of cake.”

Sam scoffed and limped after Dean, who was cradling his arm against his chest. They took out the vengeful spirit, but not without it getting the upper hand on them at one point. Nonetheless, Dean turned to his brother and grinned.

“Aw, come on, Sammy. That was fun!” Dean opened the trunk of his precious car and threw in his salt-filled shotgun. Sam shook his head and opened the passenger side door.

“Your definition of fun is startling,” was all he said as he ducked into the car, closing the door behind him. Dean laughed and slipped behind the steering wheel.

“Please. Your definition of fun is watching Harry Potter.”

Sam scoffed and turned to Dean. “Yours is watching cartoon porn.”

“It’s anime!” Dean snapped. Sam cackled in his seat and rubbed his sore knee.

“Okay, Dean. Whatever you say.”

***

By the time they got to Bobby’s, it was well past midnight, but a light was on in the windows. The air had cooled even more, the light wind nipping at their noses as they hurried to the door.

“Fucking locked-” Dean banged on it. “Bobby! Open up!”

“Dean, he could be sleeping,” Sam said.

“The light is on,” Dean pointed out. He raised his fist to bang on the door again but it swung open. Bobby knocked Dean’s hand out of the way.

“Would you quit it?” Bobby said. He moved out of the way to let the shivering brothers inside. “You’ll wake up-” Bobby snapped his mouth shut.

Dean smirked and let out a wheezing laugh. “Bobby, you sly dog!” He clapped his father figure on the shoulder.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Sam said simply. Dean was still making sexual jabs. Bobby rolled his eyes.

“I’m not seeing anyone, you idjits,” he said. “I took in a runaway. I don’t know the story so don’t ask, but she was hurt. I honestly thought she was… something at first.”

“Why?” Sam asked. He cocked his head. “Did she do anything weird?”

Bobby shrugged. “Call it a hunch. She’s clean, though.”

“So what, you’re just letting her stay here?” Dean made his way to the fridge to grab a beer. “Why would you-”

A scream tore through the upstairs of the house. A bloodcurdling scream that made the hair on Dean’s neck stand up.

Bobby spun and sprinted up the stairs in the blink of an eye, the brothers close on his heels, however when they reached the door to one of the spare bedrooms, Bobby slammed it in their face.

“What the hell?”

The screams broke off suddenly, and Dean could vaguely hear Bobby speaking softly through the door. A woman's voice sounded back, one that was melodic but had a rougher edge to it.

A few minutes passed before Bobby slipped out of the room and pulled the door closed. “Nightmare.”

The brothers stared at him incredulously.

“What?” Bobby raised his shoulders.

“What the hell, Bobby?” Dean asked. “Why’re you getting involved with something like this? I mean, do you even know her?”

“We help people, it’s what we do. I don’t know her but so what? Call it… a hunch,” Bobby said again. He shrugged for a third time and shouldered past the boys to head towards the stairs. “You two need to leave.”

“Excuse me?” Dean followed him, raising a brow.

“She barely trusts me. She’s skittish, is all. I don’t want three men freaking her out, especially two of them as big as you guys.” Bobby opened the door to the house and jerked his head. “You can come back when she settles.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dean deadpanned. He couldn’t believe it! All of this over some girl? Some runaway girl who Bobby had just met? “There has got to be more to the story.”

“There isn’t. Now beat it,” Bobby said.

Y/N

Bobby was kind.

The first three days were a struggle. You weren’t sure what to do or what to tell him. He seemed harmless, but you easily spotted the guns and the knives and the sigils around the house. You knew what they were and what they meant. The Devil’s trap was something you had learned to create at a young age.

“Are you a hunter?” Bobby had asked.

“A… what?” You figured he didn’t mean a hunter in the sense of killing animals.

“A hunter. You know about demons and the sigils,” Bobby trailed off when he realized you didn’t know what hunters were. “What are you then?”

“Well, I had to learn about them growing up. Where I’m from, we were taught about demons in school and their protective sigils.” You had chuckled a bit. “My mother told me many people believed we are devil worshipers but we aren’t!”

Bobby simply stared at you.

“You’re a satanist?” He asked. That had you laughing again.

“Like I said, we don’t worship the devil.”

“Who is ‘we?’”

You hesitated, but you figured you could trust him. He had been kind and understanding with you. He knew you must have grown up pretty sheltered. You hadn’t known how to use the telephone and you didn’t know how to drive a car. You had never used a television.

Yes, you could trust him.

“My coven!”

Bobby moved so fast the table shook as his knees hit it, your glass of water toppling over. “Bobby, what?-”

“Your what?”

You cocked your head at his reaction. “My… my coven?”

“You’re a witch?” He was mad. Really mad. So mad, his face turned red and he fisted his hands at his sides.

“Well… yes,” you said slowly.

“We hunt you,” Bobby growled. That had you standing up slowly, hands raised in innocence.

“I don’t understand,” you said. You swallowed thickly. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Ever?” He snapped.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever hurt anyone?”

You froze. Hurt anyone? “Of course not! What are you talking about?”

“Witches kill and maim and bring harm to people,” Bobby hissed. “I knew you were something.”

“I’ve never done any of that! How dare you think I have?” You said. “Up until a week and a half ago, I had never left my compound. I was going to be sacrificed for fucks sake! My coven is traditionalistic. We live a simple life. We have no communication with the outside world. You were the first person I had ever met outside my coven!”

He stared at you dumbly, blinking a few times to process your words. “Are you… are you serious?”

“Yes,” you breathed. You kept your hands up but you shrugged lamely. “If it wasn’t for my father, I’d be dead.”

“Where’s your father?” He asked. Your heart sunk at the thought and suddenly your knees felt weak.

“He died,” you spoke softly. “He freed me and they… they killed him in the process.”

Bobby’s fists unclenched. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “He died trying to save me and I won’t let him die in vain. I’ll leave if you want me to but… I haven’t done anything for you to kill me. You have my word.”

He looked at you for a while, really looked at you. His eyes softened as a tear slipped down your cheek. You desperately wanted to enter his mind but you knew you shouldn’t, especially not now. Finally, he relaxed his position.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”

“You don’t have to leave,” he said. “But if you start… I don’t know, killing things or doing any of that evil devil shit, I’ll kill ‘ya.”

You scoffed. “What would evil devil shit entail?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, you idjit.”

In the next few weeks, Bobby had taken you under his wing. He began to teach you how to shoot, which you weren’t terrible at. He gave you books to read on lore (much of which you already knew) and even brought you out on outings with him. He was a bit of a hermit, but the few times he did go out, he’d take you with him.

Needless to say, it was… overwhelming.

There were so many people. So much technology. But it was exhilarating. You had never been shopping before, never been to a restaurant. The diner Bobby brought you to was one he said wasn’t very good, but it was fun. The waitress had looked at you like you had grown a third head as your eyes took in all of your surroundings, gazing incredulously at the picture covered walls and the jukebox- that’s what Bobby called it- against the wall.

Then there was the music. You grew up with your mother’s fiddle and that was nothing compared to what you listened to now. You had chosen so many songs from the jukebox, Bobby had to pull you away from it before you drove everyone insane.

It was amazing and you wished you could experience it all with your father. You wished he could see the new sights and hear the wonderful music. The food was a bit more artificial tasting but there was a whole new world of foods to explore. You especially liked the cheeseburgers Bobby introduced you to.

Three weeks into your stay, Bobby had taken you on a hunt with him. He told you there would be people out there who would want to kill you and wouldn’t listen like he had. You had to keep your witchcraft and religion a secret, or else hunters like him would come for you.

That didn’t help the nightmares that plagued you at night.

Your father’s death haunted you. The screams and pleads of the other oldest children haunted you. Danny’s blue lips and waterlogged skin haunted you.

You couldn’t escape it.

“Here’s some money,” Bobby said. “Go to the bar next door. Get yourself a drink, dance a little. I’ll meet you back in the room when I’m done, okay?”

He brought you along but didn’t want you hunting quite yet.

You did as he said. You drank some new drinks, danced with a man you had met, conversed with the pretty red headed bartender. You let loose and had fun, something you never would have done with the coven.

When you stumbled back into the motel room that night, Bobby had grinned at you, watching as you fell back onto your bed.

“Fun night?” He asked, helping your boots off when you struggled with the laces.

“Screw my coven,” you slurred. You smiled toothily up at him. “That was fun!” You reached into your pocket, holding out the remainder of the money he had given you.

“Keep it,” he said. You smiled and shucked off your jacket.

You were asleep by the time your head hit the pillow.

DEAN

“You think the girl is still there?”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Doubt it. It’s been almost two months.”

Sam stretched his legs as he and Dean walked up the steps to Bobby’s house. Dean knocked twice, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Autumn had faded into winter, the leaves long fallen and the flurries of snow drifting around their feet as they walked. The sun was hidden behind a blanket of clouds, making it even colder than it was.

The door opened, but instead of Bobby, a woman peered up at them. Dean’s breath hitched in his throat.

She was beautiful. Her eyes were e/c and held a sort of wisdom in them that startled him, but a glint of innocence were beheld in them, too. Her face was framed by long stray locks of h/c hair, half of it braided, the rest loose. She was tall for a woman, but the brothers still towered over her, and her simple t-shirt and jeans showed off her curves nicely. Dean looked her up and down, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Hey there,” he drawled. He touched the tip of his tongue to his top lip before giving her a nod. “What’s your name?”

The woman looked between them both, seemingly unfazed by Dean’s advances. “Bobby! There are two guys out here!”

“Let them in,” Dean heard Bobby call. “It’s the Winchester boys I was telling you about.”

“Oh,” was all she said as she stepped out of the way. She held the screen door open for them as they ducked inside. Dean sent her a wink as he passed.

“Sam, Dean,” Bobby greeted. He gestured to the woman who had now gravitated to the corner of the room. She simply watched them, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Dean noticed faint scars around her wrists. When she caught Dean’s eyes, she held them behind her back. “This is Y/n.”

“Hi,” Sam said, giving her a friendly smile.

“Hey.” Dean grinned lazily at her.

“Hello.”

Her voice was soft and Dean’s heart leaped in his chest at the sound.

“Is this the same girl from a few months ago?” Sam asked. Bobby nodded.

“Yep, that’s her,” he said. “I’ve been showing her the ropes.”

“What- like hunting?” Dean furrowed his brows. “Bobby, since when have we brought civilians into this shit?”

“I’m not a civilian,” Y/n spoke up.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Dean said.

“I’m a witch.”

“Dammit to hell, Y/n!” Bobby threw his arms out to his sides.

“A witch?” Dean snarled. He pulled his gun without a second thought, but before he could shoot, Y/n’s eyes shined purple and the gun was flung from his hand. “Bitch!”

“Watch your mouth, boy!” Bobby hissed. “She’s a witch, but she has lived her whole life in a secluded coven. She’s never hurt anyone.”

“She will!” It was Sam’s turn to pipe up. “Bobby, how can you trust a witch?”

“If you knew her, you’d understand,” Bobby answered. He gestured to her. “She won’t hurt anyone, and you won’t hurt her. Because if you do, I’ll hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Bobby-”

“I said, do you understand?” Bobby repeated himself. The brothers looked at him, noticing how his lips were screwed into a silent growl, his body moving into a defensive position half in front of the woman. Sam swallowed hard.

“Fine.”

“Sam!” Dean protested.

“If Bobby trusts her… then I do, too,” Sam muttered. Dean scoffed.

“She’s a witch!”

“And you’re a dick!” Y/n snapped.

Dean’s eyes widened. He lifted a finger to point at her. “You shut it.”

“Make me,” Y/n mocked. She folded her arms over her chest.

Dean took a step forward. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Enough!” Bobby roared. He turned to the woman. “What did I say about Dean?”

She sighed deeply. “Not to rile him up.”

“And what are you doing?”

“... Riling him up.”

“Exactly,” Bobby said. “Stop it.”

“Sorry.”

Bobby turned to Dean next. “You quit taunting her, would you? She’s turning into a decent hunter, and an even better consultant, and she’s a kind woman. If you would get your head out of your ass, you two actually have a lot in common.”

“I don’t care,” Dean said. Which was a bit of a lie, but not really. She was attractive, and he liked her spirit, but she was a witch. How was he ever going to trust the likes of her?

“A consultant?” Sam asked.

“She grew up learning about monsters,” Bobby clarified. “Not only that, but she has the knowledge for spells and herbal magic. She’s given me a lot of great information on healing spells and on some research type stuff.”

“Oh great, she could be poisoning you, Bobby,” Dean said.

“I could poison you.” Y/n narrowed her eyes at the green eyed hunter.

“Bobby, she literally just threatened me,” Dean pointed out. Bobby just shook his head and rubbed his temple.

“Y/n?”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Thank you.” Bobby gestured to the brothers. “If you two ever need any help, she’s your girl. Dean, you may not like her, but she’s smart and her herb mixes really do work.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Sam said gently. He grinned at Y/n. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too, Sam,” she said, enunciating his name more prominently. Dean scowled. “I’ll see you two later.”

“Where are you going?” Bobby asked as Y/n made her way to the stairs.

“On a date!”

Bobby started and gaped at her. “A date?”

“Yeah! Remember Ben?”

Bobby thought for a moment. “The EMT from the wraith hunt?”

“Uh-huh! We went out that night afterwards and he called me yesterday for a second date.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?” Bobby asked.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I am an adult, Bobby. Besides, the only relationship I had ever been in was an arranged one. I’d like to have my own.”

Dean sputtered. “I’m sorry- arranged?”

“Her coven was a little… old school,” Bobby said.

“To say the least,” Y/n chimed in. “Anyway, I have to get ready. Bye, boys!”

She disappeared up the stairs, the soft click of her door closing echoing down from the hallway. Bobby still looked like he was going to explode.

“How did I not know about this?”

Sam chuckled. “Don’t ask us, Bobby,” he said. “But I like her.”

“She’s great,” Bobby agreed. “Dean, if you don’t lighten up, I swear to God.”

Dean rolled his eyes, putting his whole body into it. “Okay, fine, whatever. I won’t kill her.”

“How generous of you, Dean,” Sam said, patting his brother on the shoulder. Dean pushed him away, giving him a dirty look.

“Shut up.”

Y/N

Ben was sweet, and handsome, and decent in bed, but he didn’t send that spark to your core like Dean did.

By your fifth date, you decided to break it off. It had been a month since you last saw the Winchester brothers, and three months since you had met them. You occupied your time with research and exploring the outside world. Ben had been fun, and he was so nice, but by God, Dean lit a fire in you that burned so brightly, all you could think about was him.

So after Ben, there was Derek. He was a bit more rugged than the soft spoken EMT, and if Ben had been fun, Derek was a fucking rollercoaster. He wasn’t more than a month long fling as he rolled through town, but fuck was it great. You liked this new freedom. You liked experimenting and having the choice. Sure, you and Jasper had a good time, and it was the escape you needed, but you two were arranged by your parents and the elders. Ben and Derek were your choices.

You loved having the fucking choice.

And if given the chance, you’d like to choose Dean.

He was an arrogant dick, but you remembered that smirk and the dark look in his eye and that filled you with an excitement you wanted to chase. You knew you shouldn’t chase. That you couldn’t chase.

Because no matter how civil he acted with you, you also knew he wanted to kill you.

But you also thought he wanted to fuck you. He was incredibly confusing.

Your phone calls were always short, and they either ended up with insults thrown at each other, or flirtatious innuendos from the hunter that always left you questioning whether or not he actually hated you. You provided them with copious amounts of information for their hunts, and Sam always took you up on your offer for spells and herbal concoctions. You thought Dean may have been coming around, but you wouldn’t know until tonight when they came to visit Bobby.

It was clear Dean didn’t trust you, and his cocky attitude made it so much worse. But he was a damn good hunter and a great brother to Sam, and he was Bobby’s family. So you’d try to be civil.

You’d try.

***

“Goodnight. Try not to kill each other, please.”

You waved Bobby off. Sam had long gone to bed, and with Bobby leaving, you and Dean were left alone.

And fuck was that awkward.

You looked anywhere but him. You didn’t want to just get up and leave. But you also didn’t want to sit here in silence. Dean seemed to have the same idea.

“So how’s it been-”

“How do you like-”

You spoke at the same time and heat rose in your cheeks. “Go ahead.”

He cleared his throat. “How do you like it outside the coven?”

Right, Bobby had told you he told the brothers a bit about your past. Not everything, but enough to help them understand you weren’t evil like Dean thought you were.

“It’s different. A good different,” you said. “It’s… amazing, really. There are so many things I never knew existed.”

“Like what?” Dean asked. True curiosity shined in his eyes and it made you smile.

“Like music. The music is amazing. I have more freedom. There is so much to explore. Television is pretty neat. There are a lot of books, too.”

“You sound like Sam in that sense,” Dean mused. You shrugged.

“It’s just better, you know?” You thought back to your father and Danny, how you wished for the thousandth time they could see this. You wondered about Margot and Matthias, how they would like it. “I wish my family could see it.”

“I heard about your dad. I’m sorry,” he said honestly. His eyes were earnest and full of something you couldn’t understand. You desperately wanted to read his mind, itched to. But he already didn’t trust you.

“Thanks,” was all you said. You fiddled with your hands in your lap. “We were supposed to do this together, you know? He was supposed to be with me.” You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. “But then I met Bobby and… he reminds me so much of my dad. It was like the goddess gave him back to me.”

Dean’s breath hitched. “I lost my dad, too.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes when you looked up at him. “Bobby was always like a father to me. More than my own was. He’s good like that.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “He is.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, but the awkwardness had faded.

“So. You were going to be sacrificed, huh?”

You burst out laughing.

Dean stared at you in bewilderment as you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. You covered your mouth with your hands, not wanting to wake up Sam and Bobby, but you couldn’t help the laughs that came from deep in your chest.

“How is that funny?” He asked. He must have thought you were going crazy.

“We… we just had this… heartfelt conversation… and that’s what… what you follow up with?” You said between fits of laughter. You wiped a tear from your eye. “I’m sorry. That was so fucking funny.”

Dean’s lip quirked. “You’re very odd.”

That made you laugh again, and this time, he joined.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall.

DEAN

“You like her.”

Dean’s head snapped up at the sound of Sam’s voice. He had just gotten off the phone with Y/n and he hadn’t realized he’d been smiling until Sam raised a brow with a knowing look.

“Winchester.”

“Hi, Y/n,” Dean had said. He smirked at her greeting. “How’re you doing?”

“Do you need something?” She asked. Dean’s grin widened.

“You.”

Y/n scoffed and Dean heard some shuffling. “Course you do. Without me, you’d crash and burn.”

“Real funny,” Dean said. “Do you have information on basilisks?”

“Of course I do,” Y/n said and Dean could practically hear her eyes rolling. “Is that what you’re hunting?

“We think so,” Dean replied. He waited for her to speak but the other end was silent for a few moments. “Sweetheart?”

“Oh- sorry. I forgot,” she said. Her voice sounded distant, like she had left the phone across the room. He raised a brow.

“What are you doing?”

“Hm? Nothing.”

Dean chuckled and leaned back in his seat amused. “Y/n.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re sacrificing kittens or something fucked up like that.”

“Damn. You caught me.” A pause. “I’m actually trying to cook for Bobby.”

Dean’s smile faded from one of amusement to one of wonder. “Really?”

“Yeah and this cookbook is so confusing.” He heard a smack-presumably her palm hitting the book in frustration- and a groan. “I just want to do something nice for him.”

Dean’s heart warmed at her words and he closed his eyes. It was hard to hate her. Or in his case, act like it. Sometimes. To be honest, he found it difficult to see her as anything other than good, even if she was a witch. But she still was one, and he knew someday she would turn.

Why did she have to make it so difficult to hate her?

“It’s the thought that counts,” he said softly.

“Well. I’m still trying,” she said. “My mother stopped teaching me to cook once Danny died and the marriage to Jasper was called off. Why know how to cook when I’m supposed to be dead?”

Dean flinched at her words. “What, they don’t teach you how to magically create dinner at Hogwarts?”

She didn’t say anything for a while and Dean thought he had gone too far before she said, “Only how to sacrifice kittens.”

He laughed so hard, it made Sam jump.

Then he heard that bell-like laugh of hers through the phone and he found himself unable to stop smiling.

“Dude, stop flirting and get the information,” Sam said. He narrowed his eyes at his older brother. “We’re wasting time.”

Dean sighed deeply. “Alright, Mr. Stick-in-the-ass needs the basilisk information or else he might spontaneously combust. Sorry to interrupt your cooking, sweetheart, but whaddya got?”

They had met her four months ago. She had been with Bobby for six. Somehow, she had weasled her way into their lives, and at first, Dean hated it. But ever since that conversation with her, watching as the haunting memories of her past swam behind her eyes, how she laughed at something so morbid, how she tried so hard to be good, something had changed.

Dean wasn’t sure what to think anymore. The thought of her warmed his chest. He no longer twitched with annoyance when she spoke or frowned at the mention of her name. He eagerly picked up the phone to hear her voice, wanted to talk to her, to hear her theories.

She was weird but he liked it.

Dean knew she had a rough past. He also knew that she told Bobby some of it, but not all. She was private when it came to her life in the coven. But he knew some of what she had gone through. He knew she was arranged to be married, she knew her older brother had died and that she took his place for the ritualistic sacrifice, he knew her father died saving her. He knew she had to learn all about the world when she escaped.

And she was so smart. She had picked up on the world quickly and it surprised Dean. He knew if he was in her shoes, he wouldn’t do that well. Hell, when he came back to the life of the living after only four earth months, it took him ages to learn about all that had happened.

“I do not,” Dean said. He brushed off Sam’s comment. Liked her? Please…

Did he? He was incredibly attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be? And sure, he liked to talk to her, liked to watch her face light up when he turned on the radio, or when Bobby brought home mac and cheese. He liked to watch her dance in the kitchen and could watch her read for hours without getting bored.

Did he like her?

He shrugged off the feeling, not wanting to get involved. She couldn’t possibly feel the same way. And even if she did, she deserved better. Her gentle heart was no match for his own hell-blackened soul.

“Right,” Sam rolled his eyes. He stood from his seat and picked up his jacket from the table. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Bring me some pie,” Dean muttered. As much as he tried to get her off his mind, he couldn’t. Sam rolled his eyes again and left Dean to his thoughts.

***

At one hour, Dean called Sam, but it went straight to voicemail.

Ten minutes later, he called again. Still voicemail.

At an hour and a half, Dean was dressed and ready to go on a man hunt when his phone rang.

Sam.

He answered it with a low growl. “Dammit, Sam. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Hello, Dean Winchester.”

Not Sam.

Dean’s face went slack and his body stiffened at the cool voice that spoke from the other end of the phone. He swallowed down his anger. This wasn’t the basilisk, it couldn’t fucking talk. And it didn’t sound like anyone he knew.

Fuck.

“Who the hell is this?”

The man on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly. “I’m Zacharias.”

“I have no clue who the fuck you are but if you have done anything to my brother, I swear-”

“Yet. I haven’t touched him yet,” Zacharias said smoothly. “Although, a Winchester? I can imagine a hundred different things I’d like to do to him.”

“You sick son of a bitch.”

“I won’t touch him, though,” Zacharias told Dean. “I will, if you don’t get me what I want.”

“Why don’t I just find you and rip out your lungs?” Dean spit. His body shook with anger. “And how do I know you’re not lying?”

“Should I put old Sammy boy on the phone?” Shuffling. Grunting. Then finally-

“Dean?”

Dean sighed with relief. “Sam? Are you okay?”

Sam groaned a bit. “Define okay.”

“I’ll kill them all,” Dean snarled.

“Don’t listen to them Dean. Don’t give her to them. These people, they’re-”

“That’s enough.”

The phone was pulled away as Zacharias interrupted Sam. The man cleared his throat.

“I’m sure you don’t know who I am. We keep to ourselves, but I know who you are, and I know you have access to something I want.”

“Which is?”

“Deliver it to me, alive, and you get Sam back in one piece, not a hair on his pretty little head touched, and we will leave you be forever. We will go back into solitude. You won’t ever have to deal with us again.”

“Who is ‘us?’” Dean was growing agitated. Why was this fucker so vague? “Just get to the fucking point!”

Zacharias laughed. “So impatient, hunter.”

“Listen, Zach- can I call you Zach?”

“No.”

“Okay, Zach. If you don’t get to the fucking point, I will-”

“What? You’ll do what?” Zach sneered. “The way I see it, I have the one thing in the world you care about most. You have something I need, and I have something you need. Besides, I thought you liked causing harm.”

Dean’s blood ran cold.

“Feel free to rough her up a bit. I won’t mind. Lord knows she won’t get it once she gets home.”

She. Home.

Who was he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, but I think you do,” Zach’s voice lowered an octave. “I’ve heard the whispers, Dean Winchester. I’ve heard about the part you played in hell, how you were acting a little too well. Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me.”

“What do you want?”

Zach’s breath hitched a bit. “I want the girl.”

Y/N

“Thank you for dinner, Y/n,” Bobby said. He patted your cheek and kissed your temple as he went to rinse his dish in the sink.

“I know it wasn’t great but-”

“I don’t get very many home cooked meals. This was fantastic,” Bobby said. Your chest swelled with pride at his words and you grinned.

“I’m glad. I just wanted to do something to say thank you. It’s not much but… I don’t know. You’ve been very kind to me,” you told him. He gave you an odd look.

“This sounds like a goodbye,” he said apprehensively. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, God no! No, this isn’t a goodbye!”

Bobby’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I’ve gotten used to another person being here. I’ve gotten used to you being here. I know I said take all the time you need, but I selfishly hope for more time.”

“Bobby, I like it here. I like it here with you. You remind me a lot of my father,” you said. You swallowed hard. “You’ve done a lot for me. You’re a good friend.”

Bobby blushed and went bashful. He shrugged and murmured some words you couldn’t hear before shuffling into the study, throwing a “thank you” over his shoulder. You didn’t take any offense. You knew he wasn’t very good at deep conversations.

You cleaned the kitchen and were about to head to bed when the phone Bobby had given you rang. You smiled smally when you saw Dean’s name flash on the screen.

“Two phone calls in one day? I must be special,” you said snarkily as you answered the phone.

“I need your help,” he said.

“What, no ‘hi, sweetheart’ this time?” You mused.

“I’m serious, Y/n,” he said. You frowned at his tone. He was usually playful with you. If he was grumpy, he was usually doing it to mess with you.

“Is everything okay?”

“No. I’ll send you the location. Get here as fast as you can.”

Your knees wobbled a bit as nerves lit a fire in your belly. “Wait, Dean, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Just get here. I’ll explain everything when you do,” he said. “Please?”

You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. You were tired after researching all night, but you couldn’t just say no. If Dean was asking for your physical help, he must really need it.

“Okay. Fine. Send me the address.”

***

You knew something was wrong when you pulled the car Bobby loaned you into a small patch of trees down a dirt path off the highway.

Bobby had taught you how to drive not long after you started staying with him. You didn’t drive much, but it was cool when you did. The drive to the location only took a few hours, and within that time, you tried to think of the different reasons he would have called you. Surely he wouldn’t be asking for your help unless he really needed it. Sure, he was a lot more civil with you, even nice sometimes, but he still wasn’t a huge fan of yours. He hated witches and that hatred didn’t stop with you.

The thought made your heart fall in your chest, but you pushed the feeling away. You couldn’t feel those sort of things for him. It was a dangerous game to play.

He was leaning against the Impala when you parked the car. Slipping out of the driver’s seat, you approached him warily.

The first thing you noticed was Sam’s absence.

“Where’s Sam?”

Sam was always with him. You and Dean never met up alone. The few times you had met up with the brothers when they weren’t hunting, whether it be for some healing spell lessons, research sessions, or just lunch, it was always Sam and Dean. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

You looked Dean up and down, noticing the way his fists were clenched and tucked tightly into his sides. His eyes were wide and nervous, as if you were some cruel seductress here to kidnap him, but his mouth was screwed into a hard line. You watched him swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“He’s going to uh… meet us there,” Dean stammered. He gestured to his car. “Get in?”

“Tell me what’s going on,” you demanded. “You’re acting weird.”

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep, settling breath. Energy crackled between the two of you as anger rolled from him in waves. You could sense his worry. His anger. You prodded your power at his mind, running a smooth finger down the inseam as you stepped into his thoughts.

She just needs to get in the car… fucking hell… I need to get Sam… quit acting so weird, Dean, you’ll put her off… get in the car!

That was all you could muster before a sharp pain stung your temples. Damn you needed practice. His thoughts made you more uneasy and you took a step back towards your car.

“Dean, tell me what’s going on!”

“Get in the car, Y/n,” he said darkly. You made a move to run but he lunged, gripping your wrist. You yanked free of his grip and pushed him away. “Just get in the car!”

You turned to face him, but your eyes met the barrel of a gun.

You couldn’t breathe. This was it. He was going to kill you. You had no doubts that he had witch killing bullets in that gun, and you just fucking knew he wouldn’t hesitate.

“This was your plan all along?” You whispered. You tried to keep the emotion off your face, but couldn’t keep it from your voice. “To get me to trust you, then you’d kill me? Really?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” He jerked his head towards the Impala. “I won’t say it again.”

You made a run for it.

You turned and made for the trees. This was the second time you would flee into the woods in your life and you really hoped there wouldn't be a third.

You heard Dean curse behind you and you sprinted. With his long legs, you didn’t get very far, and his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you up in the air. You swung your head back to collide with his face. He yelped as you felt his nose crunch beneath the back of your skull.

That only made him angrier.

He threw you to the ground roughly, pinning you down with one knee to the center of your back. You thrashed and raised your hand, a purple glow emanating from it, ready to strike.

He quickly latched a handcuff to your wrist and your power fizzled.

“What?”

“They’re warded,” he said simply. He cuffed your other hand and gripped a fistful of your hair. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just got into the car.”

Your body ached and your scalp screamed but you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you in pain. “Would you have gotten into the car if you were in my shoes?”

“I’d never be in your shoes,” he snarled, hauling you to your feet. “I’m not a filthy fucking witch.”

Ouch.

“You’re still not over that? Really, Dean?” He dragged you to the car, all the while you kicked and thrashed, but he was much stronger than you and the wards were weakening you significantly. “I’m not evil! I thought we were friends!”

His hand gripped your chin harshly, forcing you to look at him. His fingers were rough and heavy against your skin as he dug into you, making you wince. Up close like this, you could see the beautiful green of his eyes, even in the dark, and his freckles stood out against his cheeks. You wished this was happening in a different circumstance. You wished you could have been close like this in another way.

His mouth curled into a ferocious snarl as he said, “I’m not friends with monsters.”

He shoved a gag into your mouth, opened the trunk of his car, and shoved you inside before closing you in, concealing you in a darkness that swallowed you whole and muffled your sobs.

DEAN

The compound was deep in the forest.

Dean stood by the driver's side door, waiting. Three cloaked figures walked towards him, Sam hauled behind them, dragged by a crimson energy around his wrists and ankles. His face was a bit bruised and his clothes were dirty, but he was unscathed.

That didn’t relieve the guilt he felt.

“The girl.”

Dean recognized the voice as Zach’s. He gave a long look to Sam before he walked around to the trunk.

He betrayed her. He betrayed her in the worst way possible and now she was going to die because of it. She told him she trusted him. She had learned to trust him after he wanted to kill her.

And now?

Now, he had taken that trust and destroyed it. Bobby would kill him surely. His father figure had started looking at her like a surrogate daughter. Y/n had come into his life and brightened it in the best way possible. Bobby had been so excited when he talked about how well she was doing. How the nightmares had begun to fade. How her scars were barely noticeable. How she didn’t flinch as much.

How she trusted Bobby so wholeheartedly, and how she trusted Sam and Dean.

That was ruined now, and Dean had to face it. He had to face it like he had to face what happened in hell. But he wouldn’t do that. No. He was saving Sam again.

He would always save Sam.

He opened the truck and nearly broke at the sight of her tear stained cheeks. Regardless of the tears, however, she gave him a look that was pure death. It sent shivers to his core as her eyes lit purple. A warning.

A promise.

He yanked her from the trunk and half carried her to Zach.

The new High Priest of Y/n’s coven.

“Who?” Dean asked.

“Y/n. I know you know where she is.”

“Why do you want her?” Dean’s stomach curled.

“We have some… unfinished business.”

It didn’t take Dean long to realize it was her old coven, the one she had run from. The ritual wasn’t complete, and it wouldn’t be complete until Y/n was dead. So there was to be an exchange. Y/n for Sam.

“Let Sam go.”

Zach, a tall and plump man with gray hair and a bulbous nose, nodded at the two cloaked figures at his sides. They yanked Sam to Dean. Y/n writhed in Dean’s grip, desperate to escape, desperate not to return to the coven.

“The girl,” Zach said again. Dean looked down at Y/n, whose eyes were so wide with fear, he was afraid they’d pop right from her head. She looked at him then, pleading, begging for him to take her.

Instead, he took the gag off, pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth, and pushed her away.

Y/n was so surprised, she barely flinched when the cloaked figures gripped the tops of her arms.

“Dean!” She said his name with yearning as the two figures dragged her away, still chained, still terrified. “Dean, please don’t do this! You know what they’ll do! You know! Please! Sam, Dean, please!”

With an evil grin, Zach sent the brothers a wink. “Thank you, boys. We’ll take good care of her.”

Then in a blast of crimson, the four witches were gone.

Y/N

“You traitorous bitch!”

Your mother hit you again, the whip stinging across your back with the scorching pain of the sun. You keened, tears long fallen, your eyes dry and crusty from how much you’ve cried.

Dean had betrayed you. This was worse than him killing you. Worse because not only were you going to die, but your freedom had been ripped from you, stolen out from underneath you. Worse because your father’s death would mean nothing. Worse because you still loved Dean.

Shit, you loved him. You hated that you did. You hated him while you loved him.

You realized you were in love with him when you were locked in that trunk. You wondered why it hurt so much. Why although he had put you there, you wanted him to comfort you. It was fucked up and twisted, but you were in love with him.

And he had royally, utterly betrayed you.

“I’m sorry, mother,” you said for the thousandth time. The whip cracked against your back again, tearing another ribbon. It wasn’t the first time you had been whipped. It was a typical form of punishment within your coven. Your wrists were bound to the top of a pole, your shirt stolen off your body to display your previously marred back. It wasn’t bad, the scars having long faded to dull lines. But now? Now they were re-opened, new ribbons sliced into your back by your own mother’s hand.

There were some spectators still. Many had gathered around to watch the pariah be punished for committing treason. Usually, treason was instant death in the coven. But you were to die in three days under the summer solstice, the moon at its peak for the season. It wasn’t as powerful as the harvest moon, but the solstice was still great for harvesting energy, and the coven couldn’t wait until autumn to refuel their power.

So they resorted to public punishment, letting you be an example to the children of the founding families who would grow up to have kids of their own to be sacrificed. This was what would happen if you or your child tried to escape. If they did escape.

Thirty lashes later, you were slumped against the pole, your body in so much pain, you were on the brink of unconsciousness. Hands moved to untie you and you slumped to the ground once you were unbound. You cried out in agony as you hit the dirt, screaming when someone lifted you up into their arms.

“I’m sorry.”

Jasper.

You didn’t turn into his chest like you would have a year ago. But you did like the comfort his touch brought you. Your best friend.

That comfort disintegrated when he laid you on your stomach on a moth-eaten cot in one of the cells of the dungeons below the founder’s hall.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said again as he left you, someone else closing the cell door, locking you inside.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t think you could physically cry anymore.

Instead, you wallowed. You wallowed in the pain, your own self pity, your anger and sadness.

You gave up.

You were done running. You were done fighting. Nothing was going to come of it. Nothing was going to change. The man you loved had shoved you back into the cruel clutches of your coven, and you were going to die in three days time, just as you should have died under the harvest moon with the others all those months ago.

DEAN

“Dean.”

Sam and Bobby watched as Dean paced in front of them. The older Winchester brother’s shoulders were hunched, brows pinched, mouth pulled into a sour frown as he paced and thought, thought and paced.

“Dean.”

He ignored his brother again. What was the point? What was the point in talking? He had done it. He had given her up. He had traded her life for his brother’s, just like he had done his whole life.

Sam was everything to him, and although she had weaseled herself into his life, into his heart, that wouldn’t change.

The guilt ate at him. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, an itching fury burning beneath his flesh that left him twitchy. This felt… wrong. This felt more wrong than he thought. What he did was awful. But it felt different. It felt…

No. He couldn’t feel those things. He wouldn’t. If he felt those things for her, there would be no going back, and he would just be hurt again. He would be hurt beyond comparison if he felt those things for her. If his heart raced at the sight of her, if he itched to reach out and touch her whenever she was close, if his mind thought of her when he woke up in the morning and right before he slept at night.

If he felt those things, he’d be a goner. If he felt those things, this situation would be so much worse.

“Dean, goddammit!”

He stopped, turning slowly, finally letting himself look at his brother and Bobby, the former who was the epitome of worry, the latter looking like he was mourning a daughter.

Which, Dean thought, he probably was.

Dean knew how much Bobby cared for Y/n. He could see it in the way his father figure would gently touch her cheek in passing, or press a kiss to her forehead whenever she went to bed. How he went out of his way to keep her comfortable, how he helped her heal. Bobby was never like that with the boys. Sure, he loved them and Dean knew he and Sam were like Bobby’s sons, but Bobby also grew to have a daughter figure in his life, and she had been ripped away from him by Dean’s doing.

“You’re going to get her back,” Bobby said smoothly. His voice was still and unwavering. Emotionless.

“Don’t you think I want to?” Dean asked. “I can’t leave her there. I can’t… It was part of the plan to go back and get her. But what if... what if she’s already dead?”

Bobby was suddenly in Dean’s face, gripping the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. His face was contorted in a rage Dean had never seen pointed towards him and it made him gulp.

“Don’t say that.” Bobby tightened his grip on Dean’s shirt. “We’re getting her back.”

“Bobby, even if she is still alive, how would we get past an entire coven?” Sam spoke from behind them. He didn’t move to pry Bobby off of Dean.

Even Sam knew Dean made a bad call.

“We’ll figure it out,” Bobby said. He finally let go of Dean and backed up a few paces. “It’s not the right time for the ritual. She’ll be alive until late tonight if I have the moon cycle right.”

“Wha- Bobby! We’re barely going to have time!” Dean said. Alive? God, he hoped so.

“We need to go. Now.” Bobby was rushing around the study like a madman, collecting guns and knives and a flask of holy water. Dean knew the holy water would do nothing, but watching as Bobby also stuffed a bag full of salt filled rounds, he knew the man was just desperate to get her back, using anything and everything to do so.

“We’ve wasted too much time,” Bobby said. He stalked towards the door and turned back to look Dean in the eye. “You better hope she’s alive, boy.”

He slipped out the front door without another word, the brothers giving each other a long look before following after him, hoping they weren’t too late.

Y/N

As night fell, the moon peeking up from behind the trees, you prayed to your gods quietly. Your mother and siblings hadn’t come to see you since the punishment in the square the day before. You were left alone, back oozing blood throughout the night and into the morning. It still leaked, but much of the blood had begun to crust and clot. You didn’t want to know what your back looked like. It had finally healed enough from the last time you were punished six years ago that you could start looking at your back in the mirror.

You supposed you didn’t have to worry about it now, seeing as you’d be dead by morning.

The cuffs from Dean had been swapped for similar cuffs as the ones your dad melted when you two made your escape the last time. They dug into your wrists painfully, chafing them raw and bloody.

A loud bang sounded from somewhere above the cellar. Your mouth went dry. This was it.

The door to the cellar opened, revealing Jasper. He looked at you solemnly and reached down to grip the tops of your arms. You cried out as your back was jarred, and he ignored it, dragging you up the stairs and into the main hall where someone else gripped your other arm. Together, they carried you outside into the warm night. The hot air hit your back painfully and it took all your strength not to cry in pain. Instead, you bit your lip so hard you tasted blood and tried to push the pain away, not giving them the satisfaction of seeing you hurt.

They carried you to the waiting cell, which was really just a shed, and pushed you inside. You landed on your side, agony ripping through you, and you groaned. They closed the door and locked you inside as everyone prepped for the ritual.

As you laid there, having flipped onto your stomach, you tried to count the minutes in your head, counting the seconds. If you let yourself think of what was coming, you would surely go insane. This was the second time you were experiencing this and thinking about it made you queasy. Thinking about Dean left you conflicted. Thinking of Bobby and your father left you dejected.

So you just counted.

And counted.

Until a thud echoed outside the shed. Shuffling. Another thud. A squelching sound.

“Keep an eye out.”

“No, I was just going to stand here with my thumb up my ass.”

“Real mature, Dean.”

“Thank you.

“Shut up.”

“Hurry up, Sam.”

“I’m trying! It’s spelled or something.”

“You know what? Move.”

Holy shit. Was that-

There was a loud bang on the door and suddenly it creaked open. It was too dark to see, but you could make out the shadowed silhouettes of two very familiar bodies.

“Shit.”

Dean dropped beside you so fast it made your head spin. How had they found you? How did they even get to you?

His hand lifted to your head and he brushed your hair from your eyes. Your cheek was pressed against the cool stone floor of the shed, violent shivers racking your body.

“God, Dean- look at her back.”

“We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean made to lift you but you snarled at him, reaching your hand out to slap him away from you.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you hissed. You glanced back at Sam, relief flooding you as he looked unharmed. There was some blood spattered on him, but he looked fine. You didn’t think the blood was his.

“Y/n-”

“Shut up, dick,” you said. “Sam can carry me.”

“Y/n, I don’t know how I’m going to. It’s… it’s bad. I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam said softly. He bent down beside you as well.

“I don’t think I can walk. It’s going to hurt like a fucking bitch but just do it,” you said. “How did you guys get to me?”

“A lot of fighting and a lot of bullets,” Dean said morbidly. “Bobby’s our getaway driver. He’s picking off a lot one by one.”

“He’s… what?” Your eyes widened. “Dean, there are children here!”

“He’s not killing them all, Y/n,” Dean said. “Just the ones who are fighting to kill you and trying to kill him.”

You let that sink in. They were killing your coven. They were killing the community you grew up with.

“Okay,” was all you said. Sam made a pained sound and reached for you.

Your body was lit with an excruciating fire.

Sam apologized so much, it all blurred together. You gasped and cried and whined as he carried you. Dean had laid his flannel over your bare chest, his face pained as Sam carried you out into the woods. Bodies laid scattered all around, fires licked towards the sky. The compound was devastated, but you could vaguely make out the shapes of some people fleeing into the trees across the field.

You could also see Jasper’s lifeless eyes staring at you from where his body was leaning against the shed, a single bullet hole in the center of his forehead. How you had not heard any of this, you weren’t sure. Perhaps you were too delirious with pain.

Your heart was in your throat now. Jasper. He was dead. Your best friend. Your confidant. Your lover. Dead amongst the ones who wanted to kill you.

He was going to stand by and watch you die.

You bit your lip and tried to push away the urge to vomit. Jasper was dead, you didn’t know about your mother, or Margot and Matthias. Your mother… you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about her too much. A sliver of yourself worried for her… but she didn’t care for you. Not really. The coven was the most important thing to her. Margot and Matthias however, you hoped they were alright. As long as you were alive, they couldn’t touch them.

“We’re almost there,” Sam spoke suddenly, bringing you from your thoughts. You were almost to the car, where you would be taken from this place once again.

“Hurry,” you rasped. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. You were gasping for air at this point, the pain constricting even your breathing.

“Bobby, start it!”

“Holy mother of-”

“Just do it! She won’t last much longer,” Sam ordered. Bobby reluctantly turned from where he started forward towards you, getting into the driver’s seat of the Impala. Sam sat you in the back seat and started to get in with you but was pulled back. He grunted as he landed on his ass, Dean taking his place.

“Not you!” You didn’t want him anywhere near you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m not leaving you again.” You laid on your stomach across the back seat, your cheek resting against his thigh as he gently laid your head down onto him. The fire across your back faded ever so slightly, but it had been reawoken when Sam touched it. You wished unconsciousness would claim you but it didn’t. Tears slipped from your cheeks.

“How could you?” You whispered. You found yourself repeating it again and again, Dean’s hand stroking your hair as he shushed you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Finally, as if the gods had heard your prayer, the edges of your vision began to darken, and sleep claimed you at last.

DEAN

Dean’s back was to the wall. In one hand, he held a beer, and in the other he held a small bouquet of flowers. It was a useless sentiment, he knew that, especially when it was his doing that caused this.

Another yelp of pain from the room behind him and he flinched. Bobby and Sam had been hard at work for the past two hours on Y/n’s wounds. She had kicked Dean out promptly as soon as she regained consciousness. She was furious with him and she should be.

Dean didn’t blame her.

The door opened and Sam stepped out. His shirt was covered in blood, hands stained pink. His face, ashen and pinched, turned to look at Dean.

“Well?” Dean asked.

“She needs rest. She’s… she’s going to scar pretty badly.” Sam sighed and shook his head. “How could they do that?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Is she alright?”

Sam scoffed. “No. No, she’s not alright, Dean. She was given up by someone she thought she could trust, whipped to ribbons by her own mother, and then was thrown in a cell to wait for her slaughter. So no, she’s not alright.”

Dean stiffened. “Her mother did that?”

“As punishment,” Sam seethed. “Apparently it wasn’t the first time.”

Dean thought he was going to be sick. He took a deep breath and stood up, hesitating. “I want to see her.”

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Sam said.

“I know. But I at least want to apologize, even if she doesn’t believe me,” Dean murmured. He glanced down at the flowers in his hand, a futile attempt of an “I’m sorry” and he knew it. “I…”

“I know,” Sam said softly when Dean couldn’t finish his thought. He couldn’t quite say the words yet. He didn’t even have half a mind to think them. Sam reached over to squeeze his brother’s shoulder gently. “I know.”

Dean gave a low nod and stepped around Sam, ducking into the study.

It had been turned into a makeshift infirmary. The desk had been cleared of items, a sheet thrown over it, a pillow supporting Y/n’s head where she laid upon it. Everything had been pushed away against the wall, making room for bags of gauze, salves, and other medical tools that Dean cringed away from. It smelled strongly of antiseptic and blood, making Dean woozy as he stepped inside.

Y/n’s eyes were half open and glazed over. She stared unfocused at a spot on the wall beside Dean, and didn’t flinch as he stepped right beside her line of sight. She just simply stared.

Bobby sat beside the desk, one hand in hers- which once again had bandages wrapped around her wrists- as he watched her closely. Her back had been heavily bandaged, blood staining the sheets below her body, tears long drying on her face, leaving streaks on her cell-dusted skin.

“How are you feeling?”

Her eyes lifted to him finally. They were cold and hard and so void of emotion it made Dean shiver.

“What do you think?”

Dean swallowed hard and placed the flowers on a nearby shelf. He wrung his hands together as he thought of what to say next.

“Bobby, would you mind-”

“Don’t even ask, boy.” Bobby didn’t even move when he said it. He just stayed in his position, gaze locked on the broken girl on the table, face pulled into a deep frown.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured. “Y/n, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“How sweet of you,” she said. “Now get out.”

“Please.” Dean said.

“I trusted you.”

Dean’s breath hitched. Her voice had turned soft and pained. So unlike her and so full of anguish.

“I trusted you and you betrayed me,” she said. “I don’t trust people easily, Dean. But I trusted you. I trusted you and Sam and Bobby. That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Ever since I met you, you have wanted to kill me. You never trusted me. I’m a witch, just another monster for you to kill. That night? I thought you were going to do it yourself. What you did was worse. You gave me back to the people who I ran from. Who killed my father. You took away my freedom again. You took away my choice again. You took it all away when you gave me back.”

She was crying now, tears silently dripping to the pillow beneath her cheek.

“I’m not the untrustworthy one, Dean Winchester. You are. You call yourself a hunter. You tell yourself you save people. Apparently the bar falls short as soon as you are something different, regardless of what kind of soul you are.” She pushed herself up onto her elbows to get a better look at him. Dean would never, not until the day he died, forget the look she gave him in that moment; malicious and hurt, her eyes dark and narrowed.

“Go back to hell, Dean.”

Dean thought his chest had been ripped open. He touched the skin over his heart as her words sunk in.

Go back to hell, Dean.

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me-”

“I don’t need to do shit,” she snarled. Dean winced at her tone, so dark and vicious. “I need you to leave.”

“Y/n-”

“That’s your cue, boy,” Bobby said. Dean’s shoulders slumped. He gave one last longing look to her, taking note of her eyes and how they left him again, staring unfocused at that damn spot on the wall, before turning and ducking back out of the room, finishing off his beer in the hallway and making his way to the kitchen for another.

Y/N

“Please be careful.”

Bobby loaded the last of your bags into the back of the truck. He had given you the same truck he picked you up in a year ago.

Your back was finally healed enough thanks to your spells, scars now the only reminder. You didn’t look in the mirror, not anymore, knowing how it would look. You felt them whenever you accidently touched your skin as you changed or when you showered. You could feel the raised, soft flames that licked up to your shoulders, forever imprinted into your back. The ones you had before were small. But these? These were long and large in number, the spite and anger of the one who created them clear in their abundance.

It had been a week since Dean had given you back to your coven. In that time, you hadn’t seen him again, not since he tried to apologize the night they rescued you.

Of course, you wouldn’t have needed rescuing if he hadn’t given you up.

The boys were due back soon and you wanted to be long gone once they arrived. You were going to start hunting. Really hunting. You were fine, your healing salves and spells doing their job perfectly. The scars would be the only reminder.

“I will,” you promised. You were ready for this. You needed this.

Bobby hugged you tightly, mindful of the pressure on your back, before he pushed you lightly towards the truck.

“Alright, off you go, ya’ idjit.” You grinned and got up into the truck. “You sure you don’t want to see them?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “I never want to see Dean again. Not in this lifetime.”

Which was half true. He had hurt you beyond words. He had taken your trust and destroyed it. He had given you back to the people who killed your father and planned on killing you. But at the same time, you understood. Dean’s world revolved around Sam. He would put his life on the line, and has, for his brother. A part of you understood why he did what he did. You went crazy when Danny died, knowing the one person besides your father who loved you just as much as you loved them was dead. You had tried everything, even resorting to dabbling in necromancy, but your mother had caught you, and your last hope of bringing your brother back was gone.

So yes, you understood Dean to a point. You just couldn’t get over the pain it caused you.

Bobby nodded at your words and kicked a rock in the dirt. “I hope you change your mind someday. Maybe not anytime soon. But someday.”

You blinked a few times and processed his words. You were going to answer, but thought better of it, instead going with, “I’ll call you when I know where I’m going.”

Bobby sighed. “You better,” he said. He gave you a wave. “Kick some ass.”

***

Two months later

“Another?”

The bartender tapped the bar beside your empty beer.

“Please.” He nodded and turned to pour you another. You sighed and rested your chin in your hand, your other hand lazily scrolling through your laptop in search of cases. You had just finished a ghoul case that morning and were already itching for another one.

The bartender set the beer down in front of you and raised a brow. “Hard at work?”

You shrugged and sipped your beer. “Something like that.”

He cocked his head, eyes trained on you as he cleaned a glass. “Are you busy tonight?” He shifted nervously.

You looked up at him. He was very attractive, with warm brown skin, hair black as night, and a crooked smile that would make anyone weak in the knees. You had frequented this bar the last few nights and your conversations were always nice. He was sweet and handsome and if this was before your tangle with the coven, you would have taken him up on his offer.

But the scars hadn’t faded.

“Yeah, I’ll be working all night,” you said. He frowned a bit. “And if I wasn’t leaving town tomorrow, I would take you up on that.”

He grinned a bit. “Thanks. Can I get you anything else?”

“I’m okay.” You drank your beer deeply and reached into your bag, pulling out more than enough money for the beers. “Keep the change, okay?”

“Thank you,” he said. You finished your beer and gathered up your things.

Many of your nights went like this. How were you supposed to explain the scars to someone? They were gnarly and would immediately spark fear and confusion and that was something you didn’t want to deal with.

Your phone rang and you grumbled to yourself. Unlocking the truck, you hauled yourself inside, setting your laptop down before you answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?”

“Sam?” You smiled. You and Sam had stayed in touch. Just because Dean was an ass didn’t mean you couldn’t still talk to your friend. “What’s up?”

Sam loosed a breath. Uh oh. “Look, I wouldn’t call you if this wasn’t important.”

“No.”

“Y/n, come on.”

“No, Sam.”

“Please?” Sam said. “We really need help and no one else is stepping up to bat.”

“What about Bobby?”

He paused. “He actually told us to call you.”

Damn him! You groaned. “Why do you two need help? Aren’t you like the best hunters in the world?”

Sam scoffed. “I know you and Dean have your differences-”

“-Differences!-”

“But we could really use your skill. Please?”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes. “You know, I can feel your puppy dog eyes through the phone.”

“Are they working?”

“... Maybe.”

“Come on. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Sam said.

You pressed your knuckles into your forehead. “Jesus- fine.”

“Thank you!” Sam said. “I’ll send you the address to our motel.”

“Whatever.”

DEAN

“Is she coming?”

Sam turned at the sound of his brother’s voice. Dean’s heart thumped heavily in his chest.

“Yes,” Sam replied. Dean grinned. “But don’t chase her away, Dean. I mean it.”

“I won’t,” Dean said quickly. “But this could be my last chance to make things right with her.”

“Dean, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I need to, Sam.” Dean looked down at his hands. “I need to make things right. It sucks not talking to her. It sucks not seeing her.”

“Because you lo-”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped. Sam grinned wickedly and flopped down onto his bed.

“Well don’t you?” Sam asked. He folded his arms under his head, propping himself up to look at Dean.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Dean rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his guns. Sam had no idea what he was talking about. Dean wasn’t sure what he felt for Y/n, but he knew it was friendly. He hoped she had once felt the same way, and maybe if she knew what he felt, she could learn to forgive him.

Or this whole plan could crash and burn and chase her even further away.

Regardless, Dean was going to try.

***

Three hours later, someone knocked on the motel room door.

Sam got up to answer it but Dean shoved him back, resulting in a smack on the head, but he was able to reach the door first.

Opening it, Dean’s eyes landed on Y/n. Her eyes met his, a scowl painted on her lovely face as she zeroed in on him. She looked him up and down and hoisted her backpack over her shoulder. It was ratty and worn, but Dean noticed she took it on all her trips. He wondered what its significance was.

“Well. Aren’t you going to let me in?” She asked. Dean, startled by her voice, lurched out of the way, nearly knocking over a small table.

“Nice,” Sam mouthed, rolling his eyes. He smiled at Y/n who stepped inside, brushing past Dean quickly to give Sam a hug. “Thanks again.”

“Anything for you, Sam.” She gave Dean a dirty look. “So. What are we hunting?”

Y/N

The hunt went by smoothly.

It was a vamp nest, and a large one, definitely too difficult for two people but just easy enough with three. You had worked in tandem with boys as if you did it all your life. By the end, they both turned to you impressed.

“Wow. You’ve really trained hard, haven’t you?” Sam asked, bumping his hip with yours as you walked to the car. You wiped blood from your forehead.

“I kinda have to if I want to hunt alone.”

Dean spun to face you, blocking your path. You halted and glared up at him. God, he looked like shit. You noticed it when you arrived at the motel. His face was gaunt, eyes slightly sunken with dark circles beneath them. A permanent frown seemed etched on his lips and he looked like he lost some weight. He looked as if he was being eaten away by something.

He looked as if he was being eaten away by guilt.

A part of you took pride in that, but another part, a larger part, was sad. Sad that he had gotten this way. Sad that the man you loved was in so much despair, all you wanted to do was comfort him.

Of course, that despair was caused by himself, but you pushed that thought away.

“You’re doing what?”

“Hunting? Didn’t Bobby tell you?” You stepped around him.

“I thought he meant hunting with him, not alone,” he said. He hurried after you. “You could get hurt!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought you cared, Dean,” you said. You shrugged and gave him a pointed look. “Seeing as you’ve hurt me before.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“And I said go back to hell!”

“Okay!” Sam stepped between you and Dean, lightly pushing on your chest. He glared at his brother, but turned to you with a more gentle expression. “Let’s just calm down, okay? We’ll take you back to the motel.”

“Yeah. Okay.” You lightly pushed his hand away and threw open the back door, slamming it shut. You smirked when you saw Dean start forward in anger at how you treated his car, Sam stopping him with a hand on his chest again. They spoke lowly to each other before Dean slumped and got into the car, Sam close behind him.

Yeah, you absolutely regretted agreeing to help.

***

Later that night, you were lounging in your motel room, watching trash television, when there was a knock on your door.

There was a good possibility it was Dean. You knew that. Yet you still got up to open it. To be honest, maybe you’d like to hear him apologize again. It wouldn’t hurt.

You’d do it for Bobby. Not for yourself. For Bobby.

Opening the door, unsurprisingly, Dean stood there. His head was ducked slightly, face pulled into a nervous pout.

“Hey.”

You leaned against the door frame. “Hey.”

“Can I come in?” He asked. “Please?”

You bit your lip and moved out of the way, gesturing him inside. He muttered a thank you and stepped past you. You closed the door softly and turned to lean against it. He stood in the center of the room, looking down at a spot on the ground instead of at you.

“Y/n, I know you hate me. I know that.”

You felt as if you were going to be sick. “I… I don’t, you know, hate you.”

He furrowed his brow but didn’t look up at you. “You don’t?”

“I don’t particularly like you right now.” His lip quirked slightly. “But I don’t hate you.”

He rubbed his chin and turned to sit on the edge of your bed, resting his hands on his knees. One knee bounced and he rolled his shoulders a bit. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t answer but didn’t look away either. He continued. “What I did… I know it wasn’t okay. I won’t excuse myself for what I did. I just knew I had to save Sam and I went about it very, very poorly.”

You continued to stare at him silently.

“I should have figured something out. I was just so afraid. I do very… stupid things… to save him. I sold my soul and went to hell for crying out loud.” He smiled without humor. “Giving you to them will forever be something I will regret. Seeing you in that cell, bloody and broken, it’s an image I will never get out of my head.” His eyes turned misty and he swallowed thickly. “I will never forgive myself and I will live the rest of my life with that image. I will live the rest of my life knowing I hurt you and I’m sorry.”

You tentatively took a step towards him, and another, until you stood directly beside him. His green eyes finally lifted to yours, lined with tears, and you slowly sunk down to sit beside him. Biting your lip, you reached forward for one of his hands, resting it palm up in yours.

“I’ve… I’ve liked you for a long time now, Y/n,” he whispers. Your heart began to rapidly thump in your chest. “More than like, I think. And it scares the hell out of me. I’m so sorry.”

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. You knew about your own feelings for him. Even after what he did, they had been buried beneath anger, but not disintegrated. You traced a line on his palm.

“All I could think about when you gave me up was how much I had trusted you, and how betrayed I felt,” you began. He stilled beneath your touch. “After, I was just so angry. Angry at you for doing that to me. Angry at myself for letting myself become vulnerable.” You hesitated before continuing. “I was hurt. Really hurt. And conflicted. I wasn’t sure how I could love someone and hate them at the same time.”

Dean pulled back from you.

You hadn’t even realized you said it until his face morphed into one of shock.

Oh, shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

You leaped to your feet, mouth open and closing, your brain racing to find something to say. But your thoughts were clouded with panic. “I don’t… I mean… I didn’t mean to say…”

You backed away from him but he stood and followed. His eyes were full of longing as he reached for your hands and brought them to his chest.

“Don’t turn away from me. Not after that.”

“I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I’m glad you did,” he told you.

“Why?”

He grinned. “Because I didn’t want to be the only one with those feelings.”

“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” you murmured. He chuckled a bit.

“I’m supposed to hate you. But look at me.”

“Look at me,” you echoed.

“A hunter and a witch, who would have thought?” He said amused. You smiled shyly.

“I… I forgive you, Dean.” He sagged in relief. “But I won’t forget.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” He lifted his hand to brush his fingers down your cheek lovingly. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked at him, letting his words sink in. Once they did, your grin widened, and you reached up on your tip-toes to plant a soft kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back after a moment, he searched your eyes, waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to stop.

But you didn’t.

He leaned down to press his lips to yours, harder this time, wrapping his arms around your waist to lift you to gain better access. His lips were soft against yours, moving in fever, his body warm against you.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

“I can’t. Because I do.” You kissed him roughly, bringing your hands up to curl in his hair. He growled against your lips and moved you to the bed, pressing you down beneath him gently. He rolled his body over yours and you widened your legs to let him fit between them. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Dean.”

He moved to suck and kiss your pulse point, making you moan. “God, me too.”

You cupped his face and dragged his mouth back to yours. His hands lowered to the button on your jeans, popping them open before he pulled away from your mouth again. You whined at the loss and he chuckled.

“Patience, baby.”

You raised your hips as he pulled down your jeans. He kissed down your legs as he pulled off your socks and looked up at you with hooded eyes. He grinned against your skin before he kissed his way back up, landing a kiss to the top of your pelvis. He thumbed your panties.

“Are you sure?”

“God, yes.” You ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly, and that was all he needed.

He pulled your panties down your legs, kissing the area above your pubic bone as he gently coaxed your legs further apart. You peered down at him, but his eyes were trained on your sex, his pupils dilated wide, lips slightly swollen from your kissing. Jesus, the man was like sex on legs.

He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the hood of your clit. You groaned and jerked at his touch, keening when his tongue ran through your folds.

“Jesus, Dean!”

He ate you out slowly at first, teasingly licking and sucking, before he moved faster, feasting on you like a starved man. His tongue prodded at your entrance before he licked inside, his thumb strumming your clit it time with his ministrations. Your hips raised off the bed, pleasure jolting through you, but he splayed his free hand over your abdomen, keeping you down, making you take everything he was giving.

“Dean!”

He smirked against you, dragging his tongue up through your folds again, sending a deep shudder over you. He hummed, flicking his tongue over your clit a few times, a moan eliciting itself from your throat. He slowly pushed a finger inside you, your back arching slightly as he curled it, pumping a few times before adding another. He suddenly sucked down roughly, a cry pushing itself from your lungs to bounce off the walls, his fingers scissoring in and out at a rapid pace. Your chest was heaving as he curled his fingers again, curling so deep, pads brushing against your g-spot with every move.

You came, falling over the edge violently as he suddenly and harshly sucked your clit into his mouth again. He continued to give kitten licks to your clit as you came down from your high. As you caught your breath, you peeked an eye open to spot him grinning like a cat.

“Don’t ruin it, Winchester.”

He laughed and pushed himself up to kiss your cheek. “But that’s so much fun!”

You smirked and reached for his belt. You unbuckled it and took it off him before throwing it aside. He kicked off his shoes and you unbuttoned his jeans. He pushed himself up to stand and shimmy out of them, peeling off his socks as he went, before he pulled his shirt up and over his head. His boxers strained against his dick, and you went to reach for them, but he stopped you.

“Take off your shirt.”

You froze. If you did, he’d see the scars on your back. They were so gloriously unsexy and you knew he’d look at you in disgust if he saw them.

“No, I don’t want to.”

You were still sitting up, but Dean bent to crawl over you. Your faces were only inches apart, his breath fanning over your face. You shivered.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen your back before it was healed. Don’t hide from me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“They’re ugly,” you whispered. He shook his head and lifted one of your hands to kiss your knuckles.

“Nothing about you is ugly, Y/n,” he said softly. “Don’t be ashamed of them. Please.”

You swallowed hard and closed your eyes for a moment. Once you gathered enough courage, you lifted your shirt up and over your head, knowing your scars were on full display for him if he just looked over your shoulder. You sighed and he lifted his hand to run over your shoulder, down your back, and to the clasp of your bra.

“Look at me,” he said. You complied, keeping your eyes on him as he unclasped your bra and gently pulled the straps down your arms. He tossed it behind him, leaving you naked beneath him. He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “I love every inch of you, Y/n.”

You shuddered as he kissed your neck again.

“I want you,” you whispered into his ear. You ran a hand over his back and up to scratch lightly at the nape of his neck.

He kissed you quickly and pushed his boxers down and off. His cock sprang free, and you reached down, gripping it. He groaned as you ran your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre-cum that beaded there, before stroking him a few more times.

“Do you want me?”

He cleared his throat and grunted as you squeezed him gently. “You know I do.”

You licked the shell of his ear, feeling him tremble beneath you. “Then show me.”

He snapped.

He growled low in his throat as he pushed you down gently, hovering over you, one hand gripping one of yours, the other batting your other hand away from his cock. You giggled and he gave you a pointed look before positioning himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock running up and down your slit a few times, lathering himself in your wetness. He pressed himself gently into you, only the tip of him nestled in your warmth.

He entwined your fingers together, eyes locked on yours as he slowly eased himself into you. You felt your walls stretch to accommodate him, a slight burn following, but it quickly eased as he bottomed out.

“God, you feel good,” he said lowly into your ear. He gently pulled out until just the tip of his cock was inside you before pushing back in. He moved in long, deep strokes, and hell did it feel good. You slowly began to feel yourself moving with him, trying to match his thrusts and meet him there.

“Faster,” you pleaded, the coil once again beginning to wrap around itself. He bottomed out with each thrust, and his balls slapped against your ass with each plunge. He quickened his pace, but also lifted your leg to wrap around his waist. The angle allowed him to reach depths you didn’t even know you had. He brushed against your sweet spot with each stroke of his cock, and your eyes fell shut at the intense pleasure.

“Dean, I need more,” you said breathlessly. He moved his hand down between you, his finger beginning to strum at your clit in small circles, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. “I’m going to come.”

“You can do it, baby,” Dean said. “I’m right behind you.”

He began to rub your clit faster and harder, his hips stuttering into a sloppy pace as he neared his own end. With one more thrust of his cock against your sweet spot, you were coming, body spasming and inner walls clenching around his dick. He followed only moments after, his face buried in your neck as he moaned his relief, spilling himself deep inside you.

You stayed still for a moment, his cock still enveloped inside you as the two of you simply laid together in the afterglow. He kissed your neck and pulled out once his cock had softened inside you.

He left for a moment, disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He swiped it between your legs, then his own, before he tossed it back into the bathroom. He climbed back into bed with you and pulled you against his chest. You winced as your scars rubbed up against his chest, but he simply pulled you tighter against him.

This was Dean. You shouldn’t be ashamed. Not around him. Not at all.

He kissed the back of your neck. “I will never, ever, hurt you again, Y/n.”

You grabbed hold of one of his hands, tugging it up to your chest over your heart, holding it there. You sighed happily and smiled.

“I know, Dean.”

He gently lifted a finger to tilt your chin back to look him in the eye. “No. You don’t. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He kissed you softly. “I swear it.”

“I love you.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling as he looked at you. He kissed you again, gently, lovingly, and brushed a hand over the side of your face.

“I love you, too.”

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural #fanfiction #oneshot #commission #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn #waywardrose13

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destieltropecollection · 3 years

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Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 28: Slow Burn

Celestial | @deservetobesaved

Rating: Mature Word Count: 10,585 Main Tags/Warnings: slow burn, emotional affair, happy ending Summary: Dean is in a less than stellar marriage, but he assumes things will work themselves out. At the same time, Mr. Castiel Novak becomes his new co-worker at school and Dean has to rethink everything he thought he had figured out.

Profound Kisses | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,729 Main Tags/Warnings: destiel, smut, destiel kisses, clueless!Castiel, canonverse, post Purgatory season 8, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, mutual pining. Summary: Dean knows he's screwed. He discovers he is in love with Castiel in Purgatory, and now he can't even have the angel in front of him, because he knows it's a one sided love. It’s Valentine's day and Dean tries very hard to hook up as always, but he can't get Cas out of his mind. So he drives back to the motel, drunk, and he finds Castiel trying to help him. Then, when Dean asks Castiel for some experimental kisses and the angel accepts, Dean starts a very dangerous game… finding in Castiel's kisses the most delicious experiences, but also, his own perdition. Will Castiel fall in love with him? Or will he stay emotionless as always?

How to Raise a Mandrake | @SoraJonsei

Rating: Mature Word Count: 24,814 Main Tags/Warnings: Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Magical Castiel, Non-Human Dean Winchester, Fluff, Humor, Romantic, Fluff, Alternate Universe, Prankster Gabriel, Universe - Fantasy, Slow Build, Happy Ending Summary: What else was Castiel to do when he woke up one morning to a very naked man in his backyard?

Crimes Of Passion | @celipuff

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 32,396 Main Tags/Warnings: Cop!Dean, Artist!Castiel, Angst With A Happy Ending, Drug Addict Castiel, Top!Castiel/Bottom!Dean, Slow Build Summary: Cas is a street artist from the wrong side of the tracks. He sees his world pretty clearly through his art... that is until officer Dean Winchester comes along and turns his drug induced world upside down.

The Hanged Man | @ellis-park

Rating: Mature Word Count: 87,602 Main Tags/Warnings: Slow burn, mystery, friends to lovers, graphic depictions of violence, child abuse Summary: After Park Ranger Cas Novak saves a mysterious stranger named Dean from an attempted murder in the woods, he finds himself drawn into the man's secretive life. Someone tried to kill Dean, but he's not telling who. In fact, he's barely speaking at all. If he's going to have any hope of helping Dean, Cas will have to convince the man to trust him — all while trying not to fall in love with him along the way.

Felix Mori | @deans-jiggly-pudding

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 90,967 Main Tags/Warnings: Horny hospice, tech support!Cas, stripper!Dean, voice kink, power bottom Dean Winchester, slow burn Summary: Dean is living the dream: he gets to help people and shake his ass, and he gets paid for it. Gabriel Milton’s horny hospice is a fun place to work, but sees its fair share of technical difficulties. When the front desk computer malfunctions, the burden to call tech support falls on Dean. The man on the other end has a voice that does things to him, and if he’s lucky, IT man Cas just might feel the same way. The only thing that’s missing is his estranged brother. Dean wouldn’t have had to lie to him if it wasn’t for their deadbeat father, more obsessed with a life of crime than raising his own children. Even worse than the thought of never hearing from Sam again is the possibility of growing into someone who even vaguely resembles John Winchester, and that is a chance Dean simply cannot take. Come to think of it, maybe Dean’s dream life could use some healing after all.

The Moonlight Rule | @thefandomsinhalor

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 129,362 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern Setting AU, Marriage of Convenience, Ranch, Slow Build, Home Invasion, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Angst and Fluff Summary: After the sudden passing of Henry Winchester, Castiel learns that the late Mr. Winchester made last minute changes in his will: Dean will only inherit the family ranch he’s been running, if he marries Castiel and stays married for at least six months.

The Angel | @thisisapaige

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 155,684 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Temporary Character Death, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Fantasy AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Dean, Suicidal Ideation, Blood and Violence, Knight Dean, Fallen Angel Castiel, Scholar Sam Summary: They called him the Angel. Castiel never wanted to be a hero. He never asked to be a legend. He never considered himself a saviour. However, in his efforts to make up for his past after leaving Heaven, he became all three. They called them heroes. Growing up in the idyllic village of Lawrence, Dean dreamed of becoming a knight. In his nineteenth year, Dean journeyed to the Capital to earn his fortune. Sam, with his prized book of herbal knowledge clutched against his chest, traveled alongside Dean to become a man of his own. The Winchesters' drive and ambition lead them to the castle and into history as prominent figures in the Long War. Reality proved to be far more difficult than dreams.

Hot, blue and righteous | @Mistofstars

Rating: Mature Word Count: 168,016 Main Tags/Warnings: Romance, FluffHurt/Comfort, Drama, Domestic Violence, Sadness, HAPPY ENDING PROMISED, terrible attempts of humor, Domesticity, mentions of Castiel / Aaron (original side character), mentions of Lisa Braeden / Dean Winchester, Castiel is a judge, Dean is a cop, Alternate Universe, nothing supernatural here, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Previous death of side characters, feel good story, Sappy Summary: On the night of Sam’s graduation ball, Dean meets a guy called Castiel, and their insane chemistry instantly sets the air on fire, ending in a one-night-stand. However, it remains a one-off, and life continues. Three years pass, in which Dean meets Lisa and Castiel meets Aaron. After Lisa’s sudden death, Dean takes some time off from his work as a police officer and travels across the states to deal with his grief of losing Lisa. After Dean returns to his normal life again, he visits Bobby, staying with him for a few weeks. One night, Bobby gets an emergency call, and a beaten-up Castiel seeks shelter in Bobby’s house, far away from his abusive boyfriend Aaron. Both Castiel and Dean are certain they can never fall in love again after what had happened to them – but as soon as you start making plans, life happens.

So It Goes | @raiseyourpinky

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 236,469 Main Tags/Warnings: Friends to lovers, roommates, domestic fluff, Dean and Castiel are parents, mutual pining, depression, anxiety, top!Castiel/bottom!Dean Summary: Dean Winchester has finally bought his white picket fence dream house for his girlfriend Lisa and their son Ben. On top of living in the perfect neighborhood, they now have the best neighbors, the Novaks. Castiel and Amelia Novak are awaiting their first baby, Claire. They’re in love and are not afraid to show it. When their new neighbors move in next door, they become practically family. It feels as though nothing could ruin the ultimate domestic bliss Dean and Castiel have achieved. Until it all goes to hell. Then the two of them will be the only ones left to pick up all of the broken pieces and keep each other moving forward. Dean and Castiel soon realize that the only thing stronger than tragedy and pain is the love that they have for each other.

#destiel trope collection 2021 #day 28 #slow burn #destiel #supernatural #fanfic

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on-maars · 3 years

Text

Wonder

Just a soft lil thing I wrote in one sitting, hope you’ll like it.

Read it on AO3.

The Grant-Nash household is loud. Louder than usual, that is. Conversations flow smoothly, moving from one topic to the next rapidly. That makes Eddie smile. The last few months were quite the challenge, in every way, for everyone.

Whether it be Athena and Bobby’s marriage hanging on by a thread, Maddie suffering from postpartum depression, Karen and Hen getting used to Nia’s absence, it was enough for everyone to feel a bit under pressure, feel overwhelmed, afflicted, weighed down.

And there was also that day. That particular day. Still on Eddie’s mind, all the time. No matter how hard the people surrounding him try to forget about the whole thing.

There seems to be a common agreement between all his colleagues, all his friends. A silent promise everyone made to each other. A pact. That day’s here and it happened but god forbid we dare to acknowledge it.

And Eddie gets it. That day was a living hell. It was traumatic. For him, for Buck, and for Christopher. And don’t get him wrong he doesn’t particularly like to be reminded of that day either, doesn’t particularly like to mention it, let alone talk about it. But sometimes he wishes he could. Sometimes he wishes he had that possibility.

But he doesn’t. He knows he doesn’t.

He tried.

He tried bringing up the topic in the conversations. He tried making a few innuendos here and there, hoping Buck would catch up. He tried being patient, let his friend heal first. In vain. And Eddie knows Buck and him are not really the type to sit down and talk about their feelings, hell good communications skills don’t exactly run in his family either but he knows how to make an effort every now and then. He learned it the hard way. Raising a kid on your own doesn’t exactly give you a choice in the matter.

And yet, Eddie still smiles. Because they’re here now. They’re alive. Celebrating.

Bobby’s here, talking with Michael with hushed voices, David standing a few feet away with Albert, keeping a close watch on the barbecue while glancing at the two of them with what Eddie can only guess is an exasperated expression painted all over his face.

Hen, Karen and Athena are both seated at the table, seemingly engaged in a very lively conversation. Chimney is resting on a nearby chair, a very fast asleep Jee-Yun in his arms, both of them being subject to a series of pictures taken by May.

And then there’s Buck, sprawled on the grass, Christopher, Harry and Denny by his side, all laughing to tears. This brings a smile to Eddie’s lips.

“So I heard my brother wasn’t exactly planning on leaving you guys anytime soon?” Maddie asks next to him. “From what Albert told Chim, he’s got the loft all by himself for at least two months.”

Eddie chuckles and looks down at his hands, his cheeks turning red. There’s an implicit question behind Maddie’s words, an implicit question waiting to be answered. It’s not the first time Eddie has to face these hidden allusions from Maddie and as his eyes are being drawn to Buck once again, he realizes he doesn’t really mind.

“Yeah, he- he’s staying put.” Eddie admits. “After… After everything that happened, I think we all needed to-” He starts, but marks a pause. “Christopher needed him there.”

“Christopher’s the only one who needed him there?” Maddie asks and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat.

He shouldn’t be surprised, though. After all, Eddie hid his true feelings behind his son countless times in the past but it’s the first time he’s actually being confronted about it. It’s easy, hiding himself behind Christopher. It’s comfortable. And it makes him look like a great dad while really his son is just a thousand times braver than he ever will be. That’s not a secret to anyone.

Still, he finds himself saying:

“No.” Maddie looks up at him, smiling softly. “No, I needed him there as well.” Eddie finally admits. “I needed him to stay.” He adds. “I’ll always need him to stay.” He says more specifically, averting his eyes.

“Does he know?” She asks.

“That I want him to stay?” Eddie darts his eyes towards her but only for a second. He looks away just as fast. “Yeah. Yeah I think I made that pretty clear.” He chuckles, thinking back of all the times he had to physically drag Buck away from the front door, making it clear that he’s not “overstaying his welcome” or whatever Buck’s got stuck in his mind.

“No, I mean-” Maddie’s eyes shuttle back and forth on Eddie’s face, as if battling whether to be upfront or leave the conversation hanging. Eventually, she sighs, takes a deep breath and adds, without batting an eye: “Does he know you’re in love with him?”

Eddie blinks a few times, opening his mouth to say something but closing it the next second. There’s no need to deny it – he thinks. Not after this past few months, not after what happened. Not after that day. There’s no need to deny it because his love for Buck, once so quiet, so cautious, so calm, is now so big, so vibrant, Eddie might as well take his heart and put it on a plate for everyone to see.

“I- I’m not sure.” He says and his eyes are drawn to Buck once again. His best-friend is still seated on the grass but this time he's holding his niece in his arms, Christopher is touching her hands very carefully, like he’s afraid she might break. Buck looks up at Eddie and for a few seconds, their eyes meet. Buck has that soft expression on his face, that soft expression only reserved to the two most important people in his life. And Eddie smiles, because how can he not?

“He must know.” He convinces himself out loud. “There’s no way he doesn’t kn-”

“Did you tell him?” Maddie insists. “Did you tell him these exact same words?” She asks. “Did you tell him to his face?”

“No.” Eddie admits.

“Then he doesn’t know.” She says. “Eddie, it doesn’t matter how many signs you throw at him. It doesn’t matter if you think there’s no need to say anything because he’s got to be blind not to see it. It doesn’t matter because at the end of the day it’s Buck we’re talking about, it’s my baby brother and you and I both know he’s not going to let himself believe it until there’s not a single doubt in his mind that this is what’s happening, that you’re in it just as much as he is.”

“I-” Eddie starts but looks down, biting his lower lip. “I know.”

“And unless you tell him to his face that you’re in love with him then-”

“Then, the doubts won’t stop.” Eddie finishes for her, his eyes still fixated on Buck as a small sigh escapes his lips.

“The doubts won’t stop.” Maddie agrees.

“It’s just-” Eddie’s hand fidgets with his keys in his jean’s pocket, nervously. “The way he loves. It’s always so…”

“Loud?” Maddie offers and Eddie huffs out a laugh.

He nods. “Yeah. Loud. And- and carefree. And you know, I- it's a good thing. I mean I’ve always-” He starts, and sighs, closing his eyes fiercely. “It’s a good thing.” He repeats. “But you’d think he has it all figured out.” He says, his eyes catching Buck’s gaze once again. He seems tired. Eddie can see it by the way his lips stretch up at the edges in an effort to smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But it’s mostly the dark rings under his eyes that leads Eddie in the right direction. Buck thinks the others can’t see them, he thinks he can conceal them by acting overly excited, overly cheerful, and maybe it goes unnoticed by the others but not to Eddie. Never to Eddie.

“He has a big heart.” Maddie eventually says, following Eddie’s gaze until her own eyes are fixed on her little brother. “People often mistake it for over-confidence.” She adds. “But the truth is that he’s as terrified as you are. Maybe more.” She marks a pause. “Probably more.”

Eddie nods to himself, his smile getting bigger when he sees Buck standing up straight, crossing the few meters separating him from Eddie and Maddie. He lets himself fall on the chair with a heavy thud, raising his eyes towards Eddie, his smile always so soft, always so gentle. Eddie wants to embrace him and kiss him senseless.

“Hey.” Buck’s voice is hesitant. “Huh Chris asked me if he could stay the night here with Harry and Denny. I said yes. I thought- although I guess I- I guess I should maybe have checked with you first, I’m sor-”

“It’s fine.” Eddie smiles.

“You sure? Because I can-”

“Evan.” Eddie cuts in, and the effect is immediate. Like it always is when he uses Buck’s real name. He whirls his head around and looks at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion in his eyes. Eddie thinks he can see some traces of hope in there, too.

“Didn’t know you had the Evan privileges.” Maddie teases and Buck looks down at his hands with a sheepish smile, blinking a few times like he can’t quite believe it himself.

“Wanna go back home?” Eddie asks. “I’m beat.” He says. It’s a lie. He’s feeling great, and he could probably stay there for a few more hours if he wanted, but that’s not Buck’s case. That’s not Buck’s case and his best-friend is just too damn selfless to say it and would probably be ready to fall asleep on that chair if it meant Eddie was having a good time.

“Oh yeah we can… We can go home.”

They say goodbye to everyone and head out, not before Eddie makes Christopher promise to behave and not give Athena and Bobby too much trouble. He holds him against him for a while, kissing his head and his heart flutters when he sees Buck hugs him just as tight the next second.

When they get to the car, Buck is nervous, his head is resting on the window and his eyes are glancing to Eddie from time to time, his eyebrows squint in concentration, just like when he’s searching the answer to one of Christopher’s math exercise. It’s never a good sign. Eddie knows him well enough to understand that Buck is on the verge of falling into one of these overthinking traps that always seem to be on the lookout for the next opportunity to invade his best-friend’s mind.

The car drive is silent, the atmosphere filled with a sense of irresolution no one dares to question. And Eddie knows all too well that now is probably not the best time to have that conversation, not while driving, not while Buck is in that state. But Maddie’s words are stuck in his head since they left that house and if he doesn’t acknowledge the elephant in the room now, he’s afraid it might take him another two months to have the guts to say it.

“You do know I’m in love with you, right?” He blurts out and Buck whirls his head around so fast Eddie’s afraid he might break his neck. He seems surprised. His eyes are wide open and his mouth is agape, his eyebrows furrowed, his brain probably working too fast for his head to catch up.

“I-” He starts but his voice dies in his throat. “I didn’t- I mean I wasn’t- I wasn’t sure.” Buck stutters, blinking a few times.

“Well, I am.” Eddie says, pretending to be calm about it all while really, his hands hold the wheel so tight his knuckles go white.

“I just-” Buck says, and stays silent for a few seconds to gather his thoughts. “Ever since that day, there were- there were times when I thought that maybe you- But I couldn’t be sure. And you never- you never spoke of it and I-”

“I never spoke of it because you never let me, Buck.” Eddie marks a pause, but speaks again just as fast when he sees the flash of guilt crossing his friend’s eyes. “I don’t blame you.” He reassures him. “I’ve been in your position countless times in the past to know that that day must have been as traumatic for you as it was for me. Maybe even more, I mean I- I was asleep the whole time, after all. You were the one who had to-” Eddie pauses when he sees Buck’s face suddenly contorted with excruciating pain – agony, even – but he pushes through it all the same. “You were the one who had to deal with everything.”

“Eddie, I-”

Eddie bites his lower lip when he sees his best-friend’s eyes already filled with tears.

“Buck, you saved me.” Eddie says, his voice determined.

“No I-” Buck shakes his head. “I let you down.”

“You saved me.” Eddie repeats, with even more vigor. “Evan.” He says. “Look at me.” He adds, glancing at Buck, knowing he now has his full attention. The blue eyes staring back at him are filled with pain, agony, and Eddie knows his friend is back there again, in the streets, watching him bleed to death in front of him.

“I didn’t-” Buck starts and suddenly tears are rolling down his cheeks and his lips are shaking and his shoulders slump alarmingly as ugly sobs start racking his body. He presses his hand through his eyes, as if to hide himself from his best-friend but the noise coming from his mouth is desperate and angry and broken and Eddie doesn’t waste anytime to park his car on the roadside. “You were dead, Eds.”

“Buck.” Eddie breathes. “I wasn’t- you saved me alright?”

“No Eds, you don’t understand, alright? You were dead. You died . In that ambulance. I- I was telling you to hold on but you- you died. For a few seconds Eddie, you- you were dead. You were gone. I thought I had lost you and I couldn’t- I couldn’t-” Another sob racks his body and Eddie wraps his arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer. Buck hides his face on his chest and Eddie holds him close as he cries, his entire body shaking from exhaustion, from all the pressure he contained during this past few months.

“You never told me that.” He eventually says, his own voice shaking.

“Didn’t want to go back there.” Buck answers and his voice is so small Eddie just holds him a little closer, a little tighter, his right hand running through his blonde locks. He presses a small kiss to his head and closes his eyes, letting his forehead rest against his hair. "You were fine and I wanted - I needed - to focus on that."

“I love you.” Eddie tells him. “Buck, how can you think you let me down while you’re literally the only reason I’m sitting in this car next to you? You saved me. You took care of my son. You took care of me . Even when I was being a whiny little shit.” Eddie smiles when a small laugh escapes Buck’s lips. “You did so good. You always do.”

“Wasn’t easy.” Buck teases him but his voice still betrays his true feelings.

“And yet, you stayed.” Eddie reminds him.

“Yeah well…” Buck answers like it’s not a big deal. “Where- where else would I go?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh and presses his lips on Buck’s shoulder when this one buries his face in the crook of his neck, still trying to catch his breath.

“Move in with us.” Eddie finds himself blurting out, causing Buck to sit straight once again, watching him with a bewildered expression on his face. “I mean it.”

“I- what- what about Chris?” Buck asks because of course that’s the first thought that crosses his mind. His son’s well-being.

“What about him?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows raised.

“I don’t- maybe he doesn’t want me there all the time.” Buck starts and frowns when Eddie huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, right.” Eddie answers, unimpressed. “That kid would probably kill me if I ever let you go back to your loft and you know it.” He adds. “He adores you, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes dart towards him, his shy and sheepish smile stretching up his lips.

“What about you? Do you want me there?” Buck asks, hesitant.

“Buck I’m the one who asked.” Eddie says. “You’re practically already living with us anyway. Wouldn’t change a single thing. Except that you- well you definitely wouldn’t sleep in the spare room anymore.”

“But I wouldn’t-”

“Buck, can you please stop finding excuses and say yes already?” Eddie asks, exasperated. He still places his right hand behind his neck though, and looks at him dead in the eye when he says these next few words. “I want you there with us. All the time. Every day.”

“Alright.” Buck eventually says. “I- I’ll stay.” He adds.

“Good.” Eddie smiles, and when Buck’s eyes dart towards his lips for just a second, he doesn’t waste any time and crash their lips together in a gentle, soft kiss, tasting Buck’s tears.

“I- I love you too.” Buck says after a few minutes. “I just- just realized I still haven’t said it back.”

“You didn’t have to.” Eddie answers. “I already knew.”

Buck smiles a bit more, but another serious look crosses his face as he bites his lower lip.

“Thank you.” And Eddie heard these words a thousand times before from Buck’s mouth but in that particular moment, they seem to hold more meaning that he can possibly imagine. “For saying it first.”

Eddie intertwines their fingers together and presses a small kiss on Buck’s knuckles, starting the car.

“Anything for you, Evan.” Eddie says and huffs out a small laugh when he hears Buck’s groan resonating in the car. He puts his indicator on and turns his wheel to follow the road back home, his hand still holding Buck’s fingers.

“I-” Buck starts but seems to hesitate. His gaze is stuck on the road, like he’s afraid to meet Eddie’s eyes when he’s going to say these next few words.

“You what?” Eddie encourages him.

“I like it.” Buck says, keeping his voice low. “When you- when you call me Evan.”

“Oh I know.” Eddie teases him.

“You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?” He asks him, smiling.

“One hundred percent.” Eddie confirms. “Only way to be sure I’ve got your undivided attention.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Buck exclaims, rolling his eyes at him.

“Maybe later.” Eddie raises his eyebrows in a suggested manner and Buck only scoffs, but Eddie can already see his cheeks turning red.

“Alright alright, eyes on the road, Edmundo .” Buck says playfully and Eddie lets out a laugh. “I love you.” These words seem to slip past Buck’s lips of their own accord.

“Love you more.” Eddie instantly retorts.

“Well I loved you first.” Buck answers.

“Bold assumption you make here, Buckley.”

“Let’s hash that out at home.” Buck tells him, resting his head on the window, his voice tired and his eyes closed.

“Alright.” Eddie answers. “But you and I both know I’m gonna win this round.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and catches Eddie’s hand on the gearshift to intertwine their fingers together, the smile not leaving his face.

“Shut up and drive us home, Diaz.”

“Alright.” Eddie answers, pressing another kiss to Buck’s knuckles. “Let's get you home, Evan.”

#9-1-1 #911 #buddie fic #buddie #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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deans-baby-momma · 2 years

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Forbidden-FIN

Chapter 30

Set in season 14 and follows Y/N, a young girl from the Apocalypse world as she tries to navigate this new place that she was thrust in after being rescued and the feelings she begins to have for someone she really shoudln’t be having them for.

Warnings: There’s a bit of angst, smut and fluff in each chapter. I will tag the smut chapters appropriately but if you’re following me and reading any of my stories, you know it’s gonna be there. LOL

WC: 1541

The next day, after a quick breakfast, we are heading back toward Lebanon. The morning is bright, dew that still clings to the leaves sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight.

I hate that this trip is ending but we need to get back to see if the rest of the team had found a cure for whatever is ailing Jack.

I can't seem to get the conversation Dean and I had, had just a few nights ago, out of my head. When he confessed that he had avoided me due to the fact that people might frown upon their relationship, given who they are.

I also remember the speech he'd given when we had begun sleeping together. "No one has to know what goes on between us. It can be our little secret. I will be yours and you can be mine, behind closed doors.”

The fact that he no longer wants to keep our affair a secret makes my heart flutter. For others to know that I am his and he mine makes it seem all the more real, more legitimate. It isn't just a fling or a way to pass the time; we mean something to one another.

"Dean?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder at Jack who is staring out the window with a smile on his face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he answers as he signals to change lanes. "What's up sweetheart?"

"Who are you afraid of finding out about us? The people we care about, the important ones, already know. Sam, Jack, your mom, Bobby. I'm sure the other survivors will understand. And if they don't, so what? They can just get used to it."

I watch as Dean contemplates his answer and a part of me is afraid that he is actually reconsidering our 'coming out'.

"Truthfully?" He questions, glancing over at me. "Bobby. That man kind of scares me. He could easily rip me a new one for even thinking of touching you. He is very protective of you Y/N."

And it's true. Even in our world uncle Bobby had protected and took care of me while Dad and Uncle Sam were gone. Hell, the man practically raised me! But….he already knew about Dean and I. He actually caught us.

And I tell my boyfriend that, remind him of Bobby walking in while I was…. but I didn't finish my sentence as Dean cut me off, shushing me while motioning to Jack.

The nephilim chooses this particular time to speak up, causing Dean and I to fully blush.

"Bobby caught Y/N performing oral sex on you Dean," he says. "I'm positive if he wanted to "rip you a new one"-" he uses air quotes as he speaks. "-he would've done it then. You have nothing to fret over with Bobby. Can I ask a question?"

I nod and turn in the seat to give Jack my full attention. "What is it Jack?"

"Exactly what is Dean afraid of….what new one does he think Bobby will give him?"

"Oh. Uh," I stammer as I try to think of an appropriate answer. "It's just a euphemism; just a saying humans use."

"Okay," Jack takes my reply at face value and turns back to watching the scenery float by.

When we stop for gas I have to make a beeline for the bathroom

Dean's POV

After I fill the tank, I climb back in the car to wait for Y/N. I keep an eye on the door and the interior of the store in case someone tries to try something. She is a beautiful girl and any man would be lucky to call her his. I just happen to be that man and I'm going to make damn sure it stays that way.

Jack is quiet in the backseat and I know he is apprehensive about returning. This whole trip we hadn't discussed anything concerning his health. I wanted him to feel free and unburdened, to get a taste of what being human can be like.

Sure, mankind suffers but there is good in life too. I look in the rearview as I speak.

“This was a good idea, Jack. This trip. It was much needed,” I tell him and I honestly believe it.

'Thank you for showing me what normal is," he answers as our eyes meet in the mirror. "And you're welcome. You got what you wanted too. You and Y/N make a pretty great team.”

“Why do you say that? This trip was for you, not us.”

"It was how you said it. I could tell. I guess my point is that-" Jack pauses as he looks out the window again. "-if I don't make it...The stuff I'd miss -- it wouldn't be things like Tahiti. Or the Taj Mahal. I'd miss more time with you. More time with family, my true family. I'm getting that life isn't all these big, amazing moments. It's time together that matters. Like this."

"Well, who'd have thought hanging out with a couple of lovesick idiots would make you sentimental?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood inside the car.

Jack looks up at me and says, "I've had a good life, Dean. And you and Y/n will too. Maybe eventually get married and have kids. You’d be great parents. You’ve taken care of me. Don't let what others think ruin your happiness."

The passenger side opens and Y/N climbs in with a bag in her hands. She deals out the licorice to Jack along with a package of jerky and a bottle of water for me.

It is only about a mile down the road that I have to pull off the road and douse myself in the water. She had jokingly bought me ghost pepper jerky. One piece and I was on fire!

She and Jack sit in the car, cackling as I gag and dry heave, trying to get the heat off my tongue.

It is when we are almost back to the Bunker that Jack spills the beans.

“Dean, I don’t think you have to worry about Bobby being upset that you kept your and Y/N’s relationship a secret,” Jack says nonchalantly. “He is carrying a pretty big secret of his own.”

I see Y/N’s head turn and look at the nephilim child and smile. “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot.”

“What?” I ask intrusively. “What’s going on guys?”

It is Y/N that speaks. “Well, after everything happened with him finding us and Gamma Mary telling us about the pact, I overheard a conversation between the two of them. Apparently, we aren’t the only ones who has been fooling around behind closed doors.”

“Wha-?” I screech. Yes, my voice screeched! “Bobby and my mom?”

"Calm down Dean."

"No. Don't tell me to calm down," he says. "I've been worrying about Bobby laying into me over you and he's-" Dean pauses as he swallows audibly, "-been banging my mom?!"

"You speak so eloquently," I laugh. "But yea."

"It began over there," Jack says nonchalantly, still watching the trees go by outside the speeding car. "I dont think it's love……..yet."

I look over the seat at Jack and see in my peripheral Dean shiver in his spot.

"Let's not talk about the L word just yet," Dean mutters and I can't help but stare at him.

'What does that mean?'

One Year Later

Life was great for a while in the bunker! The Winchesters, along with Castiel and Jack and a few others, defeated Michael and ended up fighting and conquering God himself.

Along the way though, we lost a lot of people too, most importantly Mary Winchester.

Gamma Mary was taken out by Jack, who was infected with everything they’d done to stop Nick from resurrecting Lucifer and allowing the demon to possess him. It was very touch-and-go there for a while; Dean wanted to take Jack out and actually denounced him from being part of his family but Sam still had faith that Jack could be “saved”.

Bobby grieved like a man who had lost his one true love while Dean grieved the Mom he had gotten to know as a man and I was stuck in the middle, trying to comfort and soothe them both.

Dean and I never had to announce that we were together, or dating; it was just a known fact once we returned from the trip with Jack. I always wondered if Sam and Mary informed the others or what, but our relationship was never questioned or doubted.

Once Chuck-turned-God-turned-evil, we all banded together to do as we always do, saving people and hunting things. He was a formidable foe but in the end, with Jack’s help we crushed him and now the world was a much better place with Jack in charge.

When Castiel was taken by the Empty, we grieved his absence but knew we needed to move on so that is what we did.

Sam, Dean and I, along with Miracle, move out of the Bunker and find a couple of houses in town to settle in. We live out our lives as three of the people who secretly saved the world.

A/N: And they lived happily ever after. The End. LOL

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @wintersoldierwinchester @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @nancymcl @kazsrm67 @lostdarksoul6

#supernatural #spn #season 14 #canon adjacent #dean winchester #sam winchester #mary winchester #y/n winchester #jack kline #bobby singer #angst #fluff #smut #dean x y/n #a happy ending

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 3 years

Text

Drive By ~ Reggie (part 2)

A/n: This part’s Discord link! I want to clarify this time that the discord server is actually run by @httpnxtt ! So bless her for giving us a place to SCREAM (as we so often do!) Also I wrote this listening to “Lover Man” by Ricky Montgomery and this HEAVILY follows that song so feel free to listen to it to enhanse the experience!

Word Count: 7400+

Warnings: OKay so listen this part could potentially be super triggering so READ THIS PLEASE!!!! Grief (blaming yourself, anger, depression, etc), trauma reaction to arguing/yelling, trauma reaction to assumed physical abuse, implied minors having past sexual experiences, internalized homophobia, people discriminate against soulmates in this au, implied domestic disputes, rejection. I... think that’s it I’m so sorry if I’ve forgotten something.

MASTERLIST

Reggie really hated soulmates.

He liked seeing other people and their soulmates, and he loved talking about soulmates with other people. It's just, if he'd had the choice, he wished more than anything that he could have just... not had one himself. He'd rather just be one of those odd people who never manifested a soulmate connection; that would be so, so much better if this is what having a soulmate meant for him.

Now, Reggie didn't always feel this way. When he was younger he used to listen to people talk about their soulmates all the time and dream of a future when he got his. His parents had been one of those people who strongly believed that soulmates were a bad thing, and had been open and proud that they weren't soulmates. Maybe seeing them argue all the time had been the basis of his love for soulmates, and his drive to find his.

If only he could tell his young self that life isn't that simple. There's no magical cure to loneliness, and soulmates aren't all they're cracked up to be. Not for him. Nothing ever was, for him.

"Reg?"

The bassist looked over, eyes wide as his name was called. "Yeah?"

Alex was the one looking at him, concern creasing his features. "You seem really distracted today. You alright?"

In all honesty, he absolutely wasn't. Ever since they'd been forcefully brought back into the land of the living as ghosts, and now they were trying to make a band again and Alex had found his soulmate and the world was so crazy different and Luke was acting weird like he ALWAYS did when soulmates were involved and Reggie was really overwhelmed.

"Yeah," he answered anyway. Thinking about soulmates makes him finally make a decision he's been trying to avoid for a few days now. "I'm a little restless. I think I'm going to go on a walk. Take a page out of your book." He smiles and stands up, and Alex nods.

Luke looked over. Reggie should have known Luke would have known that Reggie didn't like walks like Alex did. "Do you want company?"

"No," Reggie answered immediately. It came off less as desperate and more insistent though, so he didn't stress about how fast he'd said it. Usually he'd love to have Luke around, but he couldn't for what he wanted to do. Especially because he knew the only reason Luke wanted to go along is because the last time one of them went on a walk they came back with a soulmate mark, and he didn't want Luke to be all over him and protective. He couldn't deal with that right now. Luke's face fell though and Reggie added, "I just need some space you know?" His voice was soft this time, and Luke nodded after a second, a small smile on his face.

With that, Reggie poofed out of the garage and was outside, turning away to begin walking down the road.

The sun was going down before he found what he'd been looking for. He'd had to sneak around and peak where he probably shouldn't of, but he had to know. Fine, it was creepy. He wasn't proud. But he... he HAD to know.

It was his snooping that had brought him to the graveyard.

Walking through the yard looking at every single head stone searching for the one name he was most afraid to see but knew he eventually would, Reggie realized that in all of the things that he had imagined when he'd thought about tracking down a certain someone from his past every single outcome possible made him just as sick as this did.

Finally he came across the grave he was looking for. At the top was a name. Y/n's name. Reggie sat on the dirt, legs crossed, hands in his lap. As he looked at the grave, he felt the top right corner of his chest itch. The spot just below his collar bone. His hand itched to touch it, but he wasn't like Luke. He didn't give into urges. He was too afraid if he touched it enough times people would realized the real reason he never wanted to change in front of anyone else.

His eyes closed and he sighed. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the gravestone. "I remember the night you left. The hours Luke spent crying when his soulmate mark turned grey. I remember Alex holding him so tightly and calming him down. How I had to..." He swallowed. "I had to be quiet about how much it hurt me too." He sat back, his eyes opening again as he looked at the year on the tombstone. He reached out, his fingers grazing over the year Y/n had died. "You died the same year we did. I wonder how it happened. How many months were you around that we weren't? What-" His voice choked with emotion. "Did you hear about us? What happened? Did you even care?" His voice was soft and it faded, his hands raising to rub at his face. Finally, Reggie shook his head and moved to his feet. He bent down to touch the top of the stone. "I'm sorry for how things happened all those years ago." And then he turned away and he left, and he didn't look back.

"You should ask him out."

Reggie jumped and his eyes whipped around. When had Y/n gotten to the studio? "Oh hey." He tried to smile and laugh the comment off, but his fear at being caught red handed made his stomach twist and both the sound and the expression he made were contorted with awkwardness.

Y/n rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall next to Reggie. "Listen I might be gay, but I'm not stupid." He grinned. "Luke. Talk to him."

Without meaning to, Reggie looked back at Luke. He was talking to Alex and Bobby about the newest song he'd written and how he wanted it to sound. Alex had asked about what the song was about and it had set Luke off for half an hour. Reggie hadn't taken his eyes off of the lead singer since the conversation had started. When talking about music and things he was passionate about in general, Luke was so... beautiful? That really was the word for it. He wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been sure no one was looking... he'd forgotten Y/n was coming over today. Even then, how did the dude just walk in without alerting a single other person in the room?

Reggie cleared his throat and looked away from Luke. At least it was Y/n. He didn't have to hide from Y/n. In the small time he'd been going out with Luke, Y/n had been the most amazing person Reggie had ever met. He was so warm and welcoming. He made Reggie feel safe, like every time he was around Reggie was coming home. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced since his parents had ruined the feeling of safety and belonging in his house, and since his feelings for Luke had made everything so weird for him in the studio. Both places had lots of good feelings and memories and got so very close, but it was Y/n that really drove it home, if you will. Because of this, when Reggie spoke, it was with defeat and not denial. "I can't."

"Why not?" Y/n asked.

Looking over at Y/n with an odd expression, Reggie felt himself get really confused. Was this one of those times he had missed something that was obvious to most people, or was that as weird as it felt? "You just learned I have feelings for your boyfriend and you want me to act on them?"

A soft, low laugh rumbled and Reggie felt himself smile despite himself. "He's not my boyfriend." Something between a grimace and a bittersweet smile rested on Y/n's lips, and slowly the sweet part of it was fading away. "He made that very clear." Reggie went to defend Luke but Y/n just held up a hand. "I know. I understand, I really do. Soulmates are like a huge taboo, and it doesn't help that we're both dudes. Trust me, I know how bad it can ruin your life when people find out you're not straight."

Reggie thought about Alex. "Most of us do," he said without thinking.

Y/n just nodded, not pressing Reggie for more information. Y/n was really good about reading people like that. Knowing what to say and when to say it. It was as if he could feel the spike of panic that Reggie had felt a second after saying what he had. "And I understand that too. I don't BLAME him. I'm not MAD at him. It just sucks. I mean, your parents don't know we're friends. None of your fans know I even exist. I mean Bobby and Alex are IN the band and they only found out about us like a week ago. We've been seeing each other for a month and a half." He scoffed. "I hate feeling like a secret. Like... he's ashamed of me. Like I'm sort of dirty pleasure. The way people look at porn." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly he's lucky he's worth it." This was said with more humor, and Reggie was relieved to feel the dark mood begin to slip away. "I have plenty of people who'd be very public about being in love with me." Then he winked at Reggie.

Without knowing why, Reggie's face went warm and his heartbeat picked up. It was the exact same thing that had happened when Luke made eye contact with him while they were singing, or when they got too close while sharing the mic and their shoulders or legs brushed. That moment of intense adrenaline when it was suffocatingly hot and Reggie's blood was rushing and then the guy he'd been crushing on for years looked at him and made him feel like he was the only person in the room. Reggie had always been so relieved that Luke could only do that during performances, when Reggie had something else to focus on immediately. When he had to be professional, and not when they were alone and he couldn't hold himself back from kissing Luke if given the chance.

How could Y/n make him feel like that now? They were just sitting here!

"If you're sad he won't publically be with you, then-"

"Because you two can have a relationship in public. People have seen you perform and no one blinks at it. Not at the way you look at each other, or how fine you are with invading each others' space. It's just written off as bandmates stuff. You probably share a room, or have known each other very long. Unless you kissed on stage no one would even care. Only the other gays would know and what are they gonna do, judge you?" He snickered and Reggie had to admit it made him smile. "You both have good reputations. It's as fair for me to be hidden as it is for him to hide me. He hates it - I can tell. He wants to go on actual dates or just been seen in public together. He wants to tell the girls that flirt with him to back off because he's taken. But he can't." Y/n sighed.

"And you think I can give him that?" Reggie asked. Y/n looked over, obviously surprised by the tint of humor in Reggie's voice. The bassist found it hilarious that all these things seemed to be a continuation of why Y/n wanted Reggie to give asking Luke out a shot... but then something clicked in his head and his smile dropped dead in exchange for wide eyes that matched Y/n's. "You think he likes me back." It was deadpan, opposite to the torrent of emotion inside of him.

Y/n scoffed. "Well YES, but... Reggie between us, you're the closest he's ever gonna get to a real relationship. The kind he wants, at least."

Reggie wasn't having that though. "Y/n he's head over heels for you. I didn't even think there was any room in that head of his FOR romance until he and Alex went out, and even then... I mean they broke up for a reason. Sometimes I feel like the only reason he-" Reggie snapped his mouth shut, eyes darting away as he realized what he was about to say.

By the look on Y/n's face, he got the feeling eh didn't actually have to say it. Y/n just nodded. "He only wants to be with me because we're soulmates." Reggie shrunk. "It's fine, I think so too. That's why I don't think I would mind if he did date someone else, along with whatever we have. As long as the person he decides to be with is okay with it. I don't know, I really like Luke and I really like us. I just feel like he deserves better sometimes, you know?"

The thing was, Reggie didn't know. He had never seen Luke as happy as he was with Y/n. He had meant that he only thought they had started dating because of the whole soulmates thing - Luke wouldn't still be with Y/n if the boy wasn't important to him. Luke looked at Y/n the same way he looked when he talked about music. But Reggie didn't know how to say that, so what he said instead was, "You matter a lot to him." It was quiet for a second before he added, "I don't think there are many people who make him as happy as you do. Even if you're just... here."

Y/n looked at his hands. "He told me about when he was a kid, and he'd check his body for any mark or name or phrase or anything. He told me about his parents had been missing s color before they met, and how they'd only told him when he was older and could keep a secret, but how they didn't want Luke to run away from potential great love because he turned away from his soulmate like so many do. They filled his head with so many hopes and dreams and... the way he looked at me that night. Without knowing anything about me, he looked at me like I was the reason the stars were in the sky. Sometimes I think that's all it is. That we share this mark, and the universe looked at me and whispered to him, 'that one'. He wouldn't have chosen me otherwise."

"He wouldn't have," Reggie agreed honestly. "But he has now, and I think it would kill him to lose you." Y/n went to argue, but this time it was Reggie who shook his head, cutting off whatever was about to be said. "I'm serious. You two are special. Don't diminish that."

After a second, Y/n's body relaxed and he smiled, nodding. "Thanks Reg." Reggie nodded and then they both looked at Luke, who was wrapping up whatever he was talking about, as Bobby wanted to get back to practicing. "I still think you should ask him out."

Reggie shoved Y/n off the couch at that, and both of their laughter finally brought the attention of Luke, who immediately ended the conversation by coming over and being within ear shot. Which meant Y/n had the last word.

This time.

"You're touching it again." Alex's eyes shot up to see Reggie's amused smile. He had gotten into the same habit Luke did; whenever he was nervous, his thumb would reach out to brush over the inked on words on his wrist. "What's bugging you?"

Alex sighed. "I'm just ALWAYS thinking about him, you know? Like I-" His face suddenly went very red. "I don't know, this feel so different to any relationship I've ever had. And maybe that's because the only other person I really dated was Luke, but-" He shrugged.

Understanding completely, Reggie nodded. "I get it. It must be nice, to have that. Do you think he feels the same?"

The blush got worse. "I... yeah." He cleared his throat and Reggie tried not to laugh. "We've been hanging out a lot and he's been answering a lot of questions. It's still not like anything serious - we're still getting to know each other, and we're both letting this take us where we want to go. Like, it's slower than it was with Luke, but faster than Flynn and Julie explained the pace of their relationship."

That made Reggie snort. "To be fair, it took YEARS for those two to do anything about their soulmate stuff."

"Yeah but they met super young," Alex reminded. Reggie nodded - that was a fair point. "Once they talked about what the soulmate thing between them meant, they took like a few months to figure it out. It's been like a week for us and I already feel like I've known him for years." He rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes kept flickering around the studio, and Reggie felt his stomach twist painfully as he realized what Alex was doing.

He was looking for Luke.

The last time they'd discussed soulmates, Julie had asked Luke about Y/n and it had gotten... awkward.

Reggie interlaced his fingers together to stop himself from suddenly scratching the intense itch he felt over that stupid, stupid mark on his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about it, but he refused to give himself away. He'd managed to hide it from his closest friends for an entire year - he wasn't going to trip up now. "Man, I'm happy for you. You deserve this. Not just the soulmate thing, but the way you talk about Willie makes me so happy for you." Reggie grinned despite himself. "I wish I could see you two together more."

Alex loosened up, his own smile growing. "Don't you listen to me talk about him enough without having to see me be an idiot in person?"

Reggie laughed. "You know I would love to see you be HAPPY," he stressed, raising his eyebrows. He always corrected his friends when they dished on themselves. "What you guys have is special."

Alex tilted his head. "You know, I always wondered what it would be like for you to get a soulmate. I bet you'd be even more a disaster than me."

Reggie had to remind himself that he was dead and didn't have a heartbeat, because he was sure he'd had a heart attack when Alex had said that. Once again, the urge to touch that damn mark was strong and he clenched his hands into fists so tightly his knuckles went white. "Yeah I've always wondered too." He cleared his throat. "That won't get you out of talking to me about Willie though. Come on, I have questions!"

The distraction worked... For now. He hoped it would keep working just a little longer.

Luke had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up with Y/n on the couch in the studio. His breathing was even and low and soft and it was almost enough to help Reggie go to sleep too. Only almost though, because Reggie was REALLY distracted by the way he looked with his hair falling in his face and his cheeks squished as he lay his head on Y/n's chest. He was even more distracted by the thought of being like that with Luke and feeling guilty because the more he thought about it, the smugger Y/n got and the smugger Y/n got, the more Reggie thought about it. It was a cycle and he was slowly going absolutely insane - the entire time, Y/n wore a knowing smile and barely held back from busting up laughing at him.

It was no different now.

"You're ridiculous," Y/n sighed softly.

"Shut up," Reggie complained, his eyes closing. It wasn't so much an order as it was a whine, and Y/n had to force himself not to giggle. Laughing would move his chest and wake up Luke, and the boy desperately needed sleep.

Y/n sighed. "I don't know why you don't just ask him out." This time Reggie groaned, but still kept it soft as not to disturb Luke. Bobby and Alex had gone home hours ago, and the three of them had stayed to talk, but Luke had fallen asleep so that Y/n was pinned. The problem was he couldn't get comfortable as he sat in the middle of the couch, leaving him nothing to lean against and fall asleep on. Y/n had invited Reggie to sit next to him and be Y/n's pillow, but the bassist didn't think he could handle that AND Luke without combusting.

Pulling his thoughts away from thinking about Y/n sleeping on him - because for some reason, that was so much harder to deal with than imagining Luke doing it, in the sense that it made his heart want to explode and his head feel fuzzy and his skin tingle and that terrified him in a way he could not explain - Reggie moved his gaze toward the roof before saying, "It wouldn't work out."

There was some shuffling and Reggie looked back to see Y/n very slowly, skillfully maneuvering Luke in a way that didn't wake the brunette as Y/n slipped out from underneath him. Luke complained in the form of sleepy, incoherent mumbles and scrunching up his face for a few seconds, but was otherwise undisturbed. Reggie was astounded. Luke was a light sleeper, so the feat alone was amazing... but also, if Y/n could do that the whole time why hadn't he done it much earlier instead of asking Reggie to join the sleep train?

While he was busy being surprised, Y/n settled in a new spot, next to Reggie. He reached out, his hand cupping Reggie's cheek to gently bring the boys' eyes to a meeting point. Reggie felt his throat clog up and swallowed to force down the lump attempting to choke him. "Reggie," Y/n asked in a soft voice, eyes earnest and wide. "Why don't you think you deserve love?"

Reggie was speechless. How could Y/n have POSSIBLY known that? "I didn't say-"

Y/n shook his head. "You didn't have to. But that's not important. Don't start lying to me now." Y/n was very close and Reggie could not summon a single helpful thought in all of the possible workings of his human mind. He HAD many thoughts, but not a SINGLE one of them included him thinking straight and it was immediately an intense struggle. "Reggie, you are so amazing," Y/n whispered, and the raspy touch in his voice made Reggie die a little bit inside. "You're so kind and warm and soft, like as a person. You feel so much and have so much compassion and care so much about people. I don't know what you think it is that has you so convinced you don't deserve EVERYTHING the world has to offer and more, but I promise you that everyone who matters? Alex, me and Bobby, and YES, even Luke - we all see how incredible you are. Please tell me you can see it too, even just a little bit.

A good swallow finally dislodged the lump in his throat, and Reggie found his voice. "Y/n..." He shook his head, and Y/n's hands fell to his shoulders. "I just feel... different than everyone else. I'm..." He couldn't find words. "It's not that I don't think I deserve happiness. I just feel like I'm not ever going to find it. Not like you and Luke. I don't think that's part of what's going to be in my future. I feel like I'm missing something important sometimes. Something other people just have, and are born with. Like a really key part of a puzzle?" He shrugged, turning his head away.

"Oh Reggie," Y/n whispered in that same soft tone that spoke volumes of softness and fondness. "How could you think you need anything other than what you already have, when what you have is so amazing and special?" Reggie looked over as Y/n's left hand shifted Reggie's collar to touch his skin at the top right of Reggie's chest with his palm. Y/n's fingertips grazed Reggie's neck. "Do you feel that, Reg? Your heart..." Reggie realized why Y/n had moved his shirt - to feel his heartbeat. "You bleed kindness. You have always, I think. From what I've seen, and what I've heard, you're surrounded by hardship and hate and struggle, and somehow you came out of all of it with a heart gushing with love. I don't care what you think you're missing. You have THIS, and that is ALL you need. YOU are enough, Reginald. You are all anyone ever needs."

Reggie felt an... odd sensation. A warmth that spread through his body, from where Y/n touched him. At first he thought it was just that the words had touched him so much, but as the warmth faded, there was something left behind. A tingly buzzing sensation, right where Y/n's palm touched Reggie's chest.

Eyes widening, Y/n moved his hand away. It was only then they both realized it was the same hand he had touched Luke with for the first time. The same hand that had the Rose tattoo. The one that matched the one on Luke's shoulder. The shape that marked the two boys soulmates. The mark which before had been only one outline of a rose... but was now two roses, crossed over each other. Identical, but facing opposite directions. Their stems curled the same way, the tilt was the same, but they faced opposite directions, ending up crossing each other.

"Oh my god," Y/n whispered. His eyes moved to Reggie's chest, which was still slightly exposed. His eyes went wide, his face draining of color.

A sort of panic suddenly flooding him, Reggie shot to his feet and flew to the bathroom. He tugged down the color of his shirt, looking in the mirror. To his horror, where Y/n's hand had touched his skin was the detailed drawing of a rose without any color. The same mark that had been on Y/n's palm and Luke's shoulder since they had met. Their soulmate mark.

His eyes caught motion and he looked over to see a suddenly shy Y/n in the doorway. "So," the teen edged, tension in his shoulders and hesitation in his eyes. "I guess this means we're soulmates too. How fun is that?"

"I guess I failed on that whole not coming back thing." Reggie was sat on the dirt plot in front of Y/n's gravestone again, shaking his head at himself. "I promised last time was my last time. Did the same thing the time before that." Reggie could feel his heart ache and his stomach tie into knots so tight that they gave him a stomach ache. His eyes watered as he looked at the name on the stone, blurring the words as he felt his heart scream in his chest. He put his face in his hands, slowly moving his fingers so they wound into his hair. "I miss you so much." He was crying, his body shaking violently as he tried to hold it in and failed. "God I'm so sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry I ran from you back then. That I pushed you away and ignored you. You were the only person that knew. The only person I could talk to about this."

For a second he cut off, and he really cried. He cried and cried until his throat was sore and his body felt painful from how tight it was wound. He knew the pain wouldn't last. Physical pain never did now that he was a ghost. It didn't change the fact that his very soul ACHED. He felt like he was missing something important. Something irreplaceable. Something precious. And it was all his own fault.

When his voice returned, it was watery and weak. His words were torn and broken with hiccups and stuttering. He was absolutely miserable. "Y-you said- I tried to- and you just-" He pulled on his hair, suddenly ripping his hands away from the strands to angrily wipe at the stupid tears that wouldn't let him talk. He NEEDED to talk. He had to get out what he was feeling and make sense of all of the thoughts in his head.

He had gone through denial the first time he'd come here. He'd thought it was some sort of conclusion. A letting go of the past, to know that Y/n was gone. It was supposed to be an answer to a question. He was supposed to be relieved to know what happened. He was supposed to just find out where Y/n had ended up and then be fine with it. He had even visited the second time only to give a proper goodbye, and that was when it had hit him.

Y/n was gone. He hadn't grown up. He hadn't found happiness. He hadn't experienced a world accepting of him. He hadn't found someone else and been happy and safe like he deserved. The pain that thought brought him was more overwhelming than the realization that Reggie himself had suffered the same fate. More sharp than even Alex or Luke suffering the same fate, because at least the three of them had each other. They had Julie and the band, and they had skipped right to the good parts and missed all the bad parts where people fought tooth and nail for the world they had now. But Y/n had only ever had Sunset Curve. He didn't have anyone else that cared about him. He had died, probably alone and miserable, feeling rejected by the two people he felt for the most, and probably forgotten by the two friends he had. The only four people that had been kind to Y/n in a very long had all shut him out and in his last moments, he had no one to turn to.

The third time Reggie came to visit, the pain had been replaced by guilt. He had spent nights awake thinking about all the times Y/n had begged Reggie to tell Luke about the rose. About Reggie being their soulmate too. Y/n had spent weeks and weeks trying to get them all on the same level. Trying to work it out. But Reggie had rejected him. Had run from him, the same way Reggie had been run from. He hadn't helped when Y/n had needed it as things turned south with Luke. He hadn't helped when Luke had come to him looking for advice after the fight with Y/n. He had told Luke to forget about it, and now Luke hated soulmates and Y/n had died alone and it was all Reggie's fault. If he had just been braver. A better friend. A better soulmate...

His fourth time at the grave, all he felt was anger. Anger at himself. Anger at Luke and Y/n for fighting. Anger at these stupid soulmate marks. Anger at the world that had raised him for seventeen years to hate the best parts of himself. To fear the way he loved, and the people he loved. He was angry at the nightmares and the pain and the worry and the stress that had been so needless. Why couldn't men be in love with each other? Because it wasn't how people had loved each other in public? Because it was new? Because it was different? Why were soulmates so terrible? Well that one he knew. Soulmates had been such taboo then because it was one less thing people could control. One less part of peoples' lives that could be locked down and forced around. A power stronger than any law. An energy that fueled hope. Hope, an emotion stronger than even fear if grown and bolstered. And that's what soulmates did, right? Encouraged people to think differently. See more. Try something new. Soulmates could be two men, or two girls, or a man and a woman. It could be anyone. Soulmates didn't gender code like society wanted them too, so obviously they were evil. Julie had gone off about it one day and you know what she was right! It was bullshit!

It was the fifth time Reggie had come with pleading eyes and begging and pleading. He had sat in front of that stupid gravestone and tried not to cry as he prayed to whoever might be listening. As he talked to thin air. As he picked up fistfuls of dirt and chucked them at the gravestone and demanded a second chance. He had screamed and kicked it and almost fallen on his face when he went through the stone. The fifth time Reggie had lost his mind, and he had spent hours trying to just get the chance to say sorry. To tell Y/n all the things he'd been wanting to tell him for so long. All he wanted was five minutes. Didn't he at least deserve that?!

Now Reggie had no other emotions left. He didn't have denial to lean on, or anger or desperation or anything else. He had used up every emotion he could think of - even jealousy for a while, as he listened to stories about Julie and Flynn or Willie and Alex. He had used one after the other until he was left stripped bare and emptied out. And now as he sat there, he cried and cried until the sadness was gone too and the tears all ran out. And then he just sat there and stared at the grey stone that was always cold and always had Y/n's name on it and offered no help or love or reprieve or condolences or even a little mercy. He looked at the grey stone and he felt a sort of kinship with it. He felt his insides pulse with a dull ache, as if they were sore. It sat there, reminding him consistently that he just felt... hollow. Empty.

Numb.

His fingertips grazed over the words carved to make Y/n's name, and he thought of the time that Y/n had tried to touch Reggie's soulmate mark; something Y/n did to Luke to remind both of them that they were soulmates. He remembered the day Y/n had begged Reggie to realize what they were. To really know it and really FEEL it and Reggie... he had pushed Y/n's hand away and said something he'd regret the rest of his life, and even after that.

How could one hotdog take so much from him in one go?

It wasn't fair.

"Reggie..."

Immediately, Reggie felt his body tense. "Where's Luke?" was his reply.

With a careful tone, Y/n answered, "That's what I came to talk to you about." Reggie's body only grew more rigid, but that didn't stop him moving away with ease and much speed when he felt Y/n's fingers graze his shoulder. He had been doing that every single time Y/n touched him since... since... His hand twitched and he almost touched the mark he had been ignoring for weeks, but managed yet again not to. "Reg," Y/n whispered. His voice sounded so frail and weak. So desperate. It was enough to break Reggie down enough that he slowly turned around.

And then immediately regret it.

Y/n looked like he'd been wrung out and hung to dry up in the sun. His skin was a different color than usual, like he felt queasy or was sick. There were bags under his eyes, and a expression on his face that made Reggie's heart burn with a pain he wasn't prepared for. He looked like he had been crying instead of sleeping. "Y/n... what happened to you."

Immediately, Y/n's shoulders sagged. he looked so small and defeated that Reggie drew back even more. The very air around Y/n simmered with pain and ache. "I'm... trying to make this work. This thing with Luke and- and with you-"

"Don't include me in that," Reggie snapped. He hadn't meant it to come out so harsh, but his panic had gotten the better of him and he had sounded angry. Like he was accusing Y/n of something.

Y/n's vulnerability was crushed to dust, and his face hardened and his body began to shake every so slightly. Reggie felt the yelling coming before he could hear it, and immediately his head was full of night spent curled in bed, trying to sleep as he crushed his ears with pillows and blankets and even his own hands to try and make himself stop hearing the shouts down the hall.

Y/n never yelled. He hadn't yelled once.

Hearing him yell now was so terrible that Reggie was stunned into silence for a solid minute.

"GODDAMNIT REGGIE!" He shoot his hate, his face twisted and his hands curled into fists and for a terrible second he thought Y/n was going to hit him. And then he immediately didn't understand why, because Y/n forced his hands opened and the earnest desperation was back and despite his anger he was pleading, and in that moment Reggie realized what he should have known by now: Y/n would never hurt him. Y/n would never hurt ANYBODY. Reggie was the one causing pain, and it was to the softest, kindest person he had ever met. The person who felt more pain than anyone else Reggie knew, and who still refused to let it destroy him. When Y/n spoke again, Reggie felt terrible to hear how raw the words sounded. "I'm trying to make you understand. I- I-" His eyes watered and Reggie felt a part of him shatter. "I lo-"

"Don't you dare say it." It came out as a plead, soft and wet and corrupted by a primal fear that made Reggie feel sick to his stomach to hear.

Whatever Y/n had heard in those words, it had taken something vital from him. His face went slack and tears fell down his face. Slowly, one at a time. He just looked at Reggie like he'd been slapped, and Reggie wanted to run away but he was frozen in place. "Do you just not like me back? Is it just about Luke? Do you only-?"

"I don't like Luke," Reggie demanded, finding strength in his voice again.

"Yes you do!" Y/n insisted. "I KNOW you do Reggie! I know you do because I see the way your hands twitch when Luke is near you, like you're dying to touch him. I see the way you look at him when you think no one is paying attention. I know he keeps you awake on the nights you can't sleep, and I know he's been as close to home as you could get for years because you go to him every single time you're upset or lonely or unsure. You seek comfort in him when you're hurting and you look to him for direction when you're lost."

"Stop it," Reggie whispered, his fingers curling into claws, nails digging at his skin even through his jeans.

Y/n just kept going. "And I know he feels the same about you because he says your name like it's the most beautiful word he's ever said, and he touches you like it brings him peace, and he talks about you like your his favorite song, and he's driven so intensely to be close to you like you're a fire and he's freezing. I see the way he looks at you and if I had a penny for every time he mentioned your name when the two of us were hanging out alone, I wouldn't be-"

"STOP IT!" His hands flew up to cover his ears... but for some reason Y/n cringed away from him. It felt like a punch to the gut to realize that Y/n had the same reaction as Reggie's had earlier. Y/n had, for some reason, thought Reggie was going to hit him. A look of guilt crossed Y/n's face and Reggie knew exactly what he was thinking. Reggie would never do something like that.

Whatever Reggie had, Y/n had it too, and that somehow made it so much worse.

For a second, they just sat there in silence. But then Reggie lowered his hands, very slowly, and Y/n spoke. "Is it because of me? What I was before you guys met me? What I did?"

Reggie didn't have to ask what Y/n meant. He knew full well how Luke and Y/n had met, and what it had meant. He knew that Y/n was touchy about this topic. He knew that it was something that Y/n had stressed about for a long time until he'd learned that Luke didn't really care or think about that stuff. How much it had been a relief for Y/n to get away from a life full of people and relationships that only wanted one thing from him. How nice it had been for him to get a break from meaningless interactions and one night stands and phone numbers he never bothered to keep.

Reggie also knew this had NOTHING to do with that. Reggie didn't care about Y/n's past, or how other people saw him. He knew better. He knew Y/n had a person. However, upon being given any other reason than the truth, Reggie's instinct was to take it and run. However, he knew this was worth than the truth. And for a split second he had to switch gears from accepting the excuse to dismissing it. He had to take just a fraction of a second to shut that down in his head, despite what his first thought had been.

It created a moment of hesitation.

A moment Y/n took as an answer.

Even when Reggie finally stuttered out an, "Of course not!" Reggie knew it was too late. Y/n stepped away from him, his face crumbling. The air had been knocked out of Reggie's body as he scrambled for something to say. "It's not Y/n I swear."

Y/n looked him dead in the eye. "Then what is it?" Reggie's mouth snapped shut. "Please Reggie, give me one other reason that makes sense. Tell me that it's not that you see me the same way everyone else does. That you're not just a little bit disgusted with me, and that's why you HATE the idea that we're soulmates. Tell me why it makes you so angry to think of being with Luke, when you're so obviously into him, if it's not because not even a little part of you think he's tainted because he's been with me even if it's not... like THAT."

Reggie did the worst thing he could have ever done.

He stayed silent.

He was too petrified to give Y/n the answer that could fix all of this. The answer that could clear the air. Maybe Y/n could help. Maybe they could make everything better. Maybe...

Whatever he'd been thinking it didn't matter, because the words didn't come out of his mouth and then the door to the studio opened and Luke was standing there, looking between them with eyes full of concern and confusion as the poor boy watched the two most important people in his life argue. Y/n went to leave, grabbing his bag as he made his way out of the studio, and Reggie let him walk away thinking something so damaging and wrong. Something that would ruin everything - all because Reggie was a coward.

"Mommy! Mommy! The angel helped me!" Reggie didn't even process it properly. It wasn't important. It didn't pertain to him. Why would he make note of it?

How wrong he was thinking that.

His mind was so focused on Bobby who was now Trevor, who had stolen their music. Who had stolen everything closest to Luke and hurt the man Reggie would anything for. Reggie was on a war path. He couldn't think about anything else until he heard Luke distinctly whisper in the softest, shakiest voice, "Y/n?"

Reggie's head whipped around to look at Luke, only for the action to repeat again as he quickly followed Luke's gaze to see....

Unable to help himself, Reggie gasped.

There was Y/n, in the exact same condition he'd been in the night he'd stormed out after arguing for Luke. That night was branded in Reggie's mind - he was sure Y/n was even wearing the same outfit. No... Y/n had never worn white while he was alive. Why was he decked head to toe in white?

The angel helped me! That was what the little girl had said. Had she been talking about Y/n? He saw the little girl, being pulled along by her mother, and that was when Reggie realized the child could SEE Y/n. In surprise, Reggie looked back at Y/n, and as if feeling his eyes, Y/n looked back at the same time. His eyes shot a mile wide, filling with even more hurt than had already been there just looking at Luke, who Reggie realized had been the target of his sad gaze before it had landed on him. The second their eyes met, Y/n was gone, disappearing in the same flash that he had seen Alex and Luke disappear in when they disappeared.

Luke fell to the knees, and Reggie felt the world crumble down with him.

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tabbytabbytabby · 3 years

Note

Buddie 9: you meant too much to me

Here you go, and thanks for the prompt! 💜

Also on AO3

The house is filled with sounds of laughter and happy chatter from the group gathered in the living room of the Diaz residence. Despite the plan for a backyard barbeque being unexpectedly rained out, everyone is in high spirits. Bobby had quickly gotten to work improvising on the food and saved the day with the help of Athena.

Now everyone is sitting back and relaxing and enjoying their time together.

Buck always loves moments like this. When he’s surrounded by his friends and family. Today they have a new member with them as baby Lydia rests snuggly in Christopher’s arms. Buck watches as Eddie leans over the back of the couch and smiles down at her.

“Ever think about having another one of your own?” Athena asks him.

Eddie looks over at her, the smile not leaving his face. “I don’t know. I have everything I need right here, and I’m pretty happy with that.”

His gaze returns to Christopher, who smiles up at him. “We’re a team.”

“That we are,” Eddie says.

“Well, teams can be pretty big,” Hen says and shoots a wink at Eddie.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “True.”

“I could see you with a baby,” Maddie says. “You’re great with Lydia. And Christopher would be a wonderful big brother.”

Buck knows that everything they’re saying is true. It’s something he’s found himself thinking. Not a lot, but often enough. When he lets his mind wander and imagine a future with Eddie. One where they raise Christopher and have a kid of their own and grow old together. It’s a nice thought but not realistic. Because while he might be around to see Christopher grow up and Eddie get older, it won’t be the way he wants it to. He long ago accepted that. He’s fine with it. As long as he gets to be in their lives, he’ll be happy. But nights like tonight, all those feelings come rushing to the surface, and he wants. He wants so damn bad.

Buck makes a hasty retreat to the kitchen, only stopping to grab the last of the dishes off the dining room table. At least with this, he’ll have somewhat of an excuse for fleeing the room. If anyone even noticed.

He puts the dishes in the sink and turns the water on. He knows he could just use the dishwasher, and he usually would, but he needs something to do with his hands.

The kitchen door opens, but Buck doesn’t turn, afraid that if he does, he’ll see Eddie there. And he can’t look at him right now. Not when he’s afraid his emotions are written all over his face.

“Buck?” But of course, it’s not Eddie but Maddie that’s come to find him. “What on earth are you doing?”

“The dishes,” Buck says.

“I can see that,” Maddie says and moves to stand next to him. She leans against the counter and frowns. “But why?”

“So that Eddie doesn’t have to worry about it when the party is over,” Buck shrugs.

Maddie purses her lips, “Are you sure that’s all?”

“What else could there be?”

“I don’t know,” Maddie says. “Maybe that you’re hiding.”

Buck glances at her before turning back to the dishes. “I’m not hiding. I have no reason to hide.”

“Right, so that’s why you ran out of the room and decided to do the dishes,” Maddie says.

“I told you…”

“That you’re helping Eddie,” Maddie says. “And as much as I’m sure he’d appreciate that, I’m sure he’d rather have you out there with everyone else instead.”

She makes a good point. But Buck still isn’t ready to go. Nonetheless, he turns off the water and dries his hands before turning to face Maddie. “I just needed a minute.”

“Is something wrong?” Maddie asks, concern taking over her face as she reaches out and touches his arm. “Did something happen?”

Buck shakes his head, “No. Nothing happened. I just…”

“What is it?”

“I want that,” Buck says. “I want… I want to have a family, Mads.”

“Oh, Buck, you will,” Maddie insists. “One day, you’ll find someone and…”

“But I already have!” Buck says. “I just… I can never have him.”

“So this is about Eddie,” Maddie says.

“No.”

“Evan.”

Buck sighs. “Fine, yes. Okay. It is. I saw him with Christopher and Lydia, and everyone was talking about him having another kid, and I just… I love him so damn much. I want that with him. And I shouldn’t.”

“Buck…”

A plate clatters to the floor, and Buck turns, eyes wide. Eddie’s standing there, his hands raised in front of him, either not knowing or not caring that the plate he was holding is no longer in his hands. His eyes are enormous and trained right on Buck. And there’s only one explanation for his reaction. He’d heard exactly what Buck had said.

“Oh god,” Buck whispers.

“I’ll umm, I’ll leave you two to talk,” Maddie says.

She stops and squeezes Eddie’s arm on the way by and then disappears out the kitchen door, leaving Buck and Eddie alone.

“Eddie…”

Eddie seems to snap out of his daze. He bends down and picks up the plate, and then crosses the room towards Buck. He’s silent the whole time, and it does nothing to settle Buck’s nerves. Finally, after what feels like hours, but in reality has probably only been two minutes, Eddie stops and turns to face him. He crosses his arms and stares at Buck, his face unreadable. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Wh—?"

"You know what? Don't answer that," Eddie says. He shakes his head and laughs. It sounds wrong. There's a bitterness to it that Buck hates. "It's clear I'm just not enough."

He starts to turn away, and Buck jumps into action, reaching out to stop him. He half expects Eddie to pull away when he touches his arm, but he doesn't. He stays where he is with his head turned away from Buck, waiting.

"That's not true," Buck says. "You've always been more than enough."

"Then why not say anything?"

"You meant too much to me," Buck says softly. He knows Eddie hears him from the way his face pinches. "I didn't want to lose you."

"Buck…"

"I'd rather love you from a distance than not have you in my life at all," Buck shrugs.

Eddie looks at him, his gaze searching Buck's face. "You won't lose me," Eddie tells him. "Especially not over this."

“I won’t?” Buck asks. Even after all this time, Buck still has his doubts. There’s a part of his mind that tells him people are always going to leave him. That’s what they do. So why should Eddie be any different?

Except he is. Eddie has been different from the beginning. He knows Buck better than anyone, maybe even Maddie, about some things, and he’s still here.

“No,” Eddie says. “You won’t. Not over this. Not ever.”

“But…”

"I love you, too, Buck," Eddie cuts in.

Buck's head is swimming. Of all the outcomes he’d agonized over, Eddie returning his feelings had been low on the list of possibilities. But here he is, smiling that soft smile that Buck is so fond of. His eyes are shining, and now that Buck has heard him say the words, he knows exactly what to call the feeling he sees there. Love.

Which means…

Buck swats his arm, and Eddie's eyes widen. "What was that for?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Buck asks him.

Eddie rubs the back of his neck, his lips twitching up into a smile. "I guess the same reasons as you. I didn't want to ruin our friendship or risk losing you if you didn't feel the same way."

"We're both idiots," Buck says.

"Clearly."

"I can think of one way to make it up to each other," Buck says and steps into Eddie's space.

Eddie tracks his movements, his hands reaching for Buck as soon as he's close enough. One lands on his hip and tugs him closer, while the other goes to his jaw. His fingers brush across his skin, and Buck forgets how to breathe for a few long seconds, let alone think.

Eddie chuckles and rests his head against Buck's. "You still with me?"

"Mmhmm."

"What's your idea?"

Buck frowns. "My idea?"

"For how we can make it up to each other," Eddie clarifies.

Buck blinks his eyes open and meets Eddie’s amused gaze. "Oh, that."

"Yes, that," Eddie says. "I'm pretty sure I know, but I want to hear it from you."

Buck smiles and uses a hand on the back of Eddie's neck to pull him in. "I want to kiss you. If you're okay with that."

"So okay," Eddie says. "More than okay."

With those few words, Buck finally lets himself give in to the desire to something he’s been dreaming of for years. He kisses Eddie. It’s soft at first, just a chaste brush of lips before he pulls back. His eyes search Eddie’s face, and Eddie’s do the same. He’s not sure who moves first, maybe they both do, but the next minute they’re kissing again. The passion and hunger of the kiss have Buck’s head swimming. He clings to Eddie, trying to get closer.

“Hmm, I’d say that definitely makes up for it,” Eddie murmurs against his lips when they finally have to pull back for air.

Buck grins and rests his head against Eddie’s. “It’s a good start.”

“A good start?” Eddie laughs. “Did it not meet your expectations?”

“Oh, it more than met them,” Buck says. “But it never hurts to be thorough.”

“Of course,” Eddie says. His thumb strokes Buck’s jaw as he kisses him again, slow, lingering.

Buck sighs, practically melting into Eddie’s arms.

“We should probably get back out there,” Eddie says.

Buck pouts. “Do we have to?”

“If we don’t, it won’t be long before someone comes looking for us,” Eddie says.

“Maddie will hold them off,” Buck says.

Eddie bites his lip, and Buck can tell he’s thinking it over. “How about this? We go out there and enjoy the night with our friends, and then when it’s all over, you can stay, and we can see just how thorough we can be.”

“Christopher…”

“Is spending the night with Hen and Karen,” Eddie says.

“Well then, Mr. Diaz, I guess I’m all yours for tonight,” Buck says.

“Just tonight?” Eddie asks.

“And every night for the rest of our lives,” Buck says. “If you want.”

“I can’t think of anything I want more,” Eddie says. “Because I meant it, you know? When I said I had everything I needed. I wasn’t just talking about Christopher. I meant you, too.”

Buck feels his eyes starting to tear up, and he laughs, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears. “You’re both everything I need, too.”

Eddie smiles and pecks his lips, “Well then, let’s go see our boy, shall we?”

Buck nods but still feels the loss when Eddie steps back. Eddie must notices because he grins and holds out his hand. Buck doesn’t hesitate before taking it and letting Eddie lead him out of the room and down the hall to the living room.

“Well, there you two are,” Athena says. “We were starting to worry about you.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says. “Buck just needed help with the dishes.”

Bobby’s eyes drift down to their joined hands, and he raises an eyebrow, “Dishes, huh? Is that what they’re calling it now?”

Eddie sits down and tugs Buck’s hand until he sits beside him, right between him and Christopher. “They do dishes together because they’re a team,” Christopher says.

“That’s right,” Eddie says.

“And it’s good to be thorough,” Buck says and winks at Eddie.

Eddie coughs and ducks his head. Buck feels a sense of pride and the slight pink tint to his cheeks.

“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” Chimney asks.

“Probably better if we don’t know,” Hen says. “At least not with little ears present.”

The look she shoots Buck and Eddie says that this won’t be the end of the conversation. Which is fine. It’ll give them time to talk before they have to decide what to tell everyone. For now, he’s just happy to be here surrounded by all the people he loves. He meets Maddie’s gaze, and she smiles a knowing smile and gives him a thumbs up. He grins back and mouths a silent “thank you” in return.

He turns his head when he feels Eddie’s arm settle over his shoulders. Eddie raises an eyebrow, a silent question of whether it’s okay. Buck smiles and snuggles further into his side. Eddie presses a kiss to the top of his head, and Buck can feel as well as hear him when he asks, “Happy?”

The answer comes easy for him. He can’t remember the last time he felt this happy. This loved. “Yeah, I am.”

Send me a prompt

#buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fanfic #my fanfiction #filled prompt #911 fanfic

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potterbite · 3 years

Text

i can only be me with you

After one of Buck’s heroics spreads all over the news, Eddie finally sees what happened above ground when he was trapped almost a year before.

On AO3.

As Buck and the team hops out of the firetruck, the rest of the station starts applauding; some are early for their shift that’s about to start, others preparing to head home. About twelve of fifteen people are just standing there, grinning at Buck.

“What - ?” Buck begins, looking to the others for some confirmation that they know what this is about. However, they all seem just as confused as he feels.

As the applauds die down, Bobby speaks up.

“What was that about?”

One of the women on the upcoming shift grins. “It’s gone viral.”

“What has?”

“The video from earlier today of Buck jumping out of that window to save the little girl.”

Oh.

At this, Hen and Chim laugh while Eddie gives him a nudge on the shoulder, muttering, “Now you’re just like Firefox.”

-----

The thing is, it’s not like he had the time to think it through before jumping out of the window on the eight floor; it was all instinct, seeing that little girl fall through it with nobody else close by to help her. But on some level, he knew he still had the harness around his middle and he trusted his team enough to fully believe they would catch that rope before it was too late.

So he flew through the crashed window barely two seconds after the screaming five year old and caught her around the waist; she was so stunned she paused her screaming. They came to an abrupt stop at the fourth floor, hanging like a couple of ragdolls, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone from up above swear loudly in spanish.

But it’s not like he thought that someone might be filming it all and uploading it to every social media plattform known to mankind or that it would be on all the big news channels less than six hours later.

He won’t lie, he kind of likes it. But he’s still exhausted by the time he pulls the key out of the ignition in the driveway. He leans his head back and closes his eyes; his phone is finally quiet, blissfully so, after ringing every three minutes since he finished work four hours ago. Granted, he did turn off sound and vibration so the quiet might be thanks to that but he doesn’t dare to look and check for number of missed calls in the last thirty minutes.

A rapt knock on the driver window makes him jump, the top of his head hitting the roof of the car with a thump and his legs slamming into the steering wheel.

He curses in pain, but still hears the muffled laughter; he flips the other person off.

“Nice one,” Eddie comments as he opens the car door. Buck just grunts in response, shaking his legs a couple of times as he climbs out.

“Don’t sneak up on a person like that.”

Eddie raises both eyebrows. “You’re sitting in my driveway. Chris heard you and wanted me to check you weren’t a murderer.”

Buck grins at this. “And he made you go alone?”

“I didn’t say it was logical. Now come on, dinner is almost ready.”

At least three or four times a week, Buck goes over to the Diaz house for dinner and to hang out with two of his favorite people. Also, ever since Eddie broke it off with Ana a few weeks back, Buck’s been afraid that Eddie might feel lonely. Whenever he asks about her though, Eddie doesn’t say much about the break up, only that it had been amicable and then he always gets this tinge of red on his cheeks that Buck absolutely does not find cute.

“Hey kiddo!” Buck calls out as they enter the house through the kitchen door.

“Bucky! You’re on TV,” Chris replies and Buck sighs, standing next to Eddie by the counter.

“I can’t look at that shit anymore,” he murmurs and the other man smirks.

“Not all it’s cracked up to be, being a celebrity?”

“I - “

“Bucky! Come see, they’re showing when you tried to save Dad, too,” Chris calls and well, Buck isn’t sure but it would seem his entire stomach flips at these words.

Eddie goes still, a frown on his face. “What’s he talking about?”

Buck will absolutely not blush. “Probably just heard him wrong.”

“Dad! It’s really cool when Bucky screams like that, come see!”

Buck straightens. “He really shouldn’t be allowed to watch the news by himself, I’ll go put a movie on.”

He takes big strides towards the living room, but before he makes it all the way Eddie swishes past him as if he’s got wings. Eddie picks up the remote and rewinds a couple of minutes. And honestly, for a man claiming he hates technology, Eddie really loves that smartTV, even though he didn’t even know he could rewind until Buck showed him (something he regrets now).

It’s not like Buck is ashamed of how he reacted that day when the ground collapsed on top of Eddie. Not really. It’s more that it feels like a pandora’s box he’s only ever opened on that day and he’s now deathly afraid of what will happen when he peeks under the lid again.

But what can he do except stand there behind the couch next to Eddie and watch as the other man finds the right moment and press play?

“Yes! Let’s watch it over and over again,” Chris claps. Buck ruffles a hand over his hair in response and the boy giggles.

“When was - ?” Eddie starts, but then he seems to recognize the farm. “Oh.”

In silence, they listen to the news anchor saying what a good guy Evan Buckley is and how he lost it when one of his own team members went under. There’s a drone shot from the moment of the collapse. A close-up on Buck’s face as he screams, and Bobby scooping him up.

Buck had known there were news teams there, of course, but he hadn’t realized they’d gotten him on camera as well. He’d ignored all reports from that day, preferring to not think about all the thousand things that could’ve gone wrong, so he’s never seen this before. But obviously, Eddie hasn’t either given the way he stares open mouthed at the screen.

When he turns his head to look at Buck, Buck just shrugs sheepishly at him.

“That was so cool, right dad?” Chris grins, and Buck sees Eddie’s face soften.

“Yeah, it was.” He looks up and meets Buck’s eyes for the fraction of a second and there’s another jolt in Buck’s stomach. “Time for dinner.”

-----

They don’t talk about what they saw on the news for the entire dinner or during the movie.

Well, Chris does bring it up one time when he turns to Buck and asks, “Would you scream like that if I disappeared too?” with honesty only a child can muster. Buck doesn’t really know what to say to this so he grins and promises that he sure would.

But even though Eddie acts normal, Buck can feel it in the air or when their eyes meet. It’s as if Eddie is screaming to say something but doesn’t want to in front of his son. Buck has no idea what that would be, because there’s no way Eddie could tell from those fast glimpses what really went on inside his head. The repeated mantra of ‘not him, not him, not him’ was not seen in his eyes, he’s sure of that.

If it were, Eddie would’ve caught on earlier. Maybe when he, Eddie, started dating Ana. Or when he broke it off with her. That fire inside of Buck’s soul dimming and glowing stronger was not visible through his eyes, because that would mean he’d lose his best friend. And that was not an option.

But he’s still nervous when it’s time for Chris to sleep; is this the last time he’ll say goodnight to Chris like this? So when the boy takes Buck’s hand and says, “Can you do it instead of Dad?” he does. Eddie stays in the doorway to Chris’ room, silently watching as Buck tucks the boy in.

“Buck?” Chris whispers so quietly Buck has to lean forward to hear.

“Yeah?” he whispers back.

Chris reaches for Buck’s face and moves it so he can whisper the words right by his ear. “I think he loves you, too.”

Buck blushes, straightening a bit. “Um, thanks buddy,” he replies, his voice still barely a whisper. He sneaks a glance at Eddie, who thankfully doesn’t appear to have heard the silent conversation. Then louder he adds, “Sleepy time.”

Chris nods happily, and has fallen asleep within three minutes of Buck reading his favorite book.

As he stands up to leave the room, Eddie enters to give Chris a kiss on the forehead. Buck stays in the living room, not sure if he should take his opportunity to leave or just get this over with so he’ll know if their friendship is ruined or not.

Before he has made up his mind, Eddie comes out and closes the door behind him. Buck opens his mouth to say something, anything, when Eddie meets his eyes and Buck sucks in a breath.

“I’ve never seen that before,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t even question what ‘that’ is, since he can only be talking about the video of Buck screaming at the top of his lungs.

“No,” Buck says stupidly. “I suppose not.”

“I wish I had though.”

“Oh?” Buck isn’t at all sure where this conversation is going, but for some reason Eddie keeps moving closer to him, so he has no choice but to lean against the wall.

“Yeah.” Almost chest to chest.

Buck licks his lips and swallows. His stomach does another flip then, because Eddie most certainly followed that movement with his eyes.

“Why?” Buck asks even though he has difficulties concentrating when all he can think about is if Eddie can feel the beating of his heart when their chests are touching like this.

“‘cause we could’ve done this much sooner,” he replies and surges up for a kiss.

Buck gasps, and he can feel the smirk against his own lips. So as soon as his brain has caught up with what’s happening, he pushes off from the wall and flips them as some kind of revenge. He presses Eddie against it instead which makes him groans, and as his lips open Buck takes advantage of that and sneaks inside.

As they battle together and Eddie’s fingers caress his neck, Buck nudges his thigh in between Eddie’s legs and gets another groan in appreciation; Buck savors that vibration as if he’s starving.

He feels as if they should slow down, talk about what’s happening, why neither of them has said anything and what’s going to happen next. But then Eddie bites gently in his lower lip, making him moan and Eddie swallows the sound greedily.

As if it’s the most natural thing in the entire world, he starts to back Eddie into the master bedroom, closing the door with his foot once they are inside.

What the hell, they can talk tomorrow instead.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #my writing

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stydiaeverafter · 3 years

Text

One Bed, Two Hearts, Three Nights

Summary: Buck and Eddie share more than just a bed in Texas; they share their feelings.

It's been a while since I've written for our boys! I've missed them. With the new season starting and all the new content for the 911 Crossover and Buck Begins, I've been feeling inspired. @reachgirl made a post about a bed sharing fic idea, and being a person who loves this particular trope, I was happy to oblige. This fic will have 3 parts. I hope you enjoy the first chapter! Xo.

Read on ao3

***

Chapter One: 1st Night —

Buck was beyond exhausted as the 118 finally made their way to a small motel close to the wildfire.

As Bobby went up to the counter, talking to the lady at the front desk, Buck couldn't help but take in his best friend.

How could someone manage to still look so damn good after a day of putting out fires? That was the thing, though; he always did.

Buck couldn't help the thoughts that were popping into his mind, any more than the feelings that had risen.

He concluded that he had fallen for his best friend years ago. When exactly, he wasn't sure. But there they were, and he wasn't sure what to do with them.

Buck had started noticing when they had spent time together quarantining. During a dark time of the unknown, Buck had found comfort in staying with Eddie and Christopher. It felt so natural being together as if a light bulb went off in his brain, screaming, this is what you've been waiting for!

They had cooked together, watch movies together, fallen asleep near each other on the couch, and shared lingering glances, to the point where Buck started to question if Eddie was feeling the same way as he was.

Buck and Eddie hardly talked about romance, especially after Abby and Shannon. They kept to themselves about all that. That wasn't what their friendship was based around. So Buck wasn't even sure if Eddie could ever see him in that way. Hell, he had been surprised himself. Growing up, he knew he was bisexual, but he hid it away. His father wasn't an accepting man for anything different from the norm he wanted to display—the perfect family image. So Buck, unfortunately, had suppressed that part of him deep down underneath everything that made him, him.

It was only when being around Eddie that that part of him was revealed once more.

The two of them had always been tighter than tight, but this felt different somehow, and spending endless time with Christopher? A huge bonus. He loved that kid more than life itself.

One night when they had been playing Monopoly, Christopher had accidentally called Buck dad. Eddie had looked startled but not as surprised as Buck had felt in that moment. But the feeling brought a sense of ease that all was right in the world. It felt natural and right, something Buck had dreamed about for most of his life. He could still remember Eddie's expression as his astonishment had shifted into what seemed like happiness at Christopher's following giggle.

Buck also recalled a particular evening when it had been stormy, and the power had gone out. Eddie had lit candles around the house, and the two of them shared a couple of drinks as they chatted in the darkness. At one point, their fingers had touched, and they held each other's gaze for what felt like a lifetime. Eddie had seemed to want to say something to him, just like he had wanted to express to Eddie how he was feeling, but Christopher had gotten scared from the thunder and interrupted them. Eddie, being the amazing father he was, had stopped everything so he could be there for his son.

Buck had to love him for it.

They hadn't finished the conversation in the days to come, because then Cap had said they could return to their homes. Buck, of course, had been disappointed, but he didn't want to overstay his welcome, especially because Chimney was asking to stay with him, wanting to make sure Maddie and their baby would be safe. How could he have said no to that?

So here Buck was, sitting in a grimy motel looking at his best friend, who he was madly in love with and not knowing how to move forward.

Eddie looked exhausted as he laid his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Buck realized his hand was moving towards his friend, wanting to touch his face. Quickly, he moved it down by his side, stuffing his palm into his pocket.

Bobby walked over, actual room keys in hand, "Alright, because the firefighters are in town helping with the fire, they're limited on space. I hope you all don't mind, but we'll be getting a bit cozy for the next couple of days. Chimney and I will room together in a two-bed bedroom. Hen, you'll have an adjoining room, but to yourself." Bobby looked over at Buck and Eddie, "And because I know you two are close, I figured you wouldn't mind sharing a bed. At least, I hope you don't mind, that's all they had left."

Buck noticed Eddie stiffen, and he couldn't ignore the way his own heart was hammering against his chest.

Unfortunately, there had been some unspoken tension between them as of late, which was making things a bit awkward between them. Buck was unsure if it was his energy or the two of them combined.

Way to make me confront my feelings, Cap...

Clearing his throat, Eddie shook his head, "Nah, we don't mind, do we, Buck?"

"Not at all." ***

"It smells like sulfur in here," Eddie said, squinting his nose.

"Isn't that just the way Texas smells?" Buck laughed as he put his duffle bag on the bed.

Eddie looked over at his friend and chuckled, "No, Buck, it's not. But don't go out there saying that; you might get a bullet in your behind for dissing the state."

Not that he had looked at Buck's ass or anything.

Okay, that was a blatant lie. Of course, Eddie had looked. How could he not?

The guy was hotter than the fires they put out daily.

"I agree though, it stinks in here," Buck replied. "That or it's me." He lifted up his arm to smell his pit and winced, "I need to get this dirt off my body."

Do you need help? "Yeah, go for it."

"You sure?"

Eddie nodded awkwardly towards the bathroom, "I'll get the second shower."

Buck walked towards the bathroom and leaned out the door with that familiar grin, "I can't promise I'll save you any hot water."

"Okay, and I can't promise that I won't kick you off the bed in my sleep," Eddie responded with a wink.

"Duly noted," Buck chuckled as he closed the door.

As Eddie could hear Buck's clothes hit the floor and the water start, his heart started pounding. Get a grip, Diaz.

Then again, if he hadn't been able to control it during quarantine, there was no hope for the next few nights when sharing a bed.

Damn his feelings.

Eddie had thought he had been a certain way all his life, so it surprised him when he felt a sexual awakening for the guy after spending more time with him.

He had mistaken it as a deepened friendship. That all changed when he had stared at Buck's lips, wanting a taste.

Shaking his head, Eddie pulled out his phone and called Chris, who was currently staying with Carla.

After exchanging some pleasantries with Carla, she handed him the phone, "Hi, daddy!'

Eddie smiled, "Hey, buddy, how you doin'?"

"Good! We made breakfast for dinner."

"Ooo, my favorite! I wish I could be there. Pancakes and eggs?"

"Mmhmm, with chocolate sauce," Chris replied with a giggle.

"Sounds good, but make sure you eat some veggies and don't forget your vitamins," Eddie said, raising an eyebrow. He stated it, but he knew Carla was a saint; she always took the best care of his boy, even getting a COVID test so she could stay with him. He was so blessed to have her in their lives, thanks to Buck, of course.

Someday he'd thank the guy for everything.

"Tell your dad that I've got it covered, baby," Carla's voice exclaimed in the background.

"Did you hear her?" Chris asked.

"I sure did, tell her she's the captain in charge, and I trust her."

As his son relayed the message, he wished he could give Christopher a big hug. It was crazy how much he missed him even after just one day.

"How's Buck doing?"

Eddie looked towards the bathroom door, "He's good. We've been busy out there trying to get this fire to stop. It's been a lot of work for us."

"You're both superheroes!"

His son, the angel.

"We're proud to do it."

"Well, I'm proud of you and Buck, tell him, okay?"

"I'll tell Buck, I promise," Eddie responded with a nod.

"Tell me what?"

Eddie looked over and saw Buck standing by the bathroom, steam coming out through the cracked door like the smoke of the fire.

God damn. Eddie swallowed at the sight of the towel around Buck's waist. His muscles were still wet, and his hair was perfectly messy. Eddie forced himself to look away.

"Christopher was just telling me to tell you he's proud of us for the work we're doing out here," Eddie answered with a sheepish grin.

Buck's face lit up, in the way it always did when he was around Chris. "Can I talk to him for a minute?"

Eddie nodded, standing up, "Of course. I better get in the shower anyway so we can get some sleep." Buck walked up to him, and Eddie prayed the towel would somehow fall off on his way over, which were totally inappropriate thoughts to be having. He turned his focus back to his son, "Hey, Chris, Buck wants to talk to you, okay?"

When his son cheered, Buck laughed, clearly hearing it.

"Talk to you tomorrow, son. Sleep well."

"Night, Daddy," Chris replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Eddie stated, his heart feeling full. "Here's Buck."

He handed Buck the phone, and their fingers touched. For a moment, they just stared at each other, Eddie realizing how close they were standing.

It was electrifying.

This same thing had happened when they were quarantining together. That was the night Eddie wanted to express his feelings, even though he had been afraid to potentially change their relationship. But he never had the chance to tell Buck; he wondered if he ever would.

Buck bit his lip, and Eddie could hear how shakily he inhaled.

Stepping away hurt, but his son was waiting on the other end of the line. But it was those moments that Eddie felt as though Buck had feelings for him, too.

Buck sat down on the bed and ran his fingers through his wet hair, "Hey buddy! I miss you!"

Eddie reached into his bag, getting a pair of thin workout pants out. He looked for his shirt to wear to bed and swore internally because he realized he had forgotten it.

As he walked to the bathroom, he paused and looked over at Buck, who was in deep conversation about the new game Christopher had played. It always warmed Eddie's heart to see the connection between his son and his best friend.

Closing the door, he realized that he was one of the lucky ones.

***

Buck loved talking to Christopher; it was just what he had needed tonight. After the grueling work they'd performed all day, the sweet innocence of that child made him feel like he had been embraced with ease and comfort.

He sat for a moment on the bed, not moving after ending the call, and thought about what had just transpired between him and Eddie.

There had been a spark—Buck had felt it.

His fingers still hummed from the touch of Eddie.

God, he wanted more. He craved more.

This type of desire for another was unlike anything Buck had ever experienced.

As he looked down at his hand, Buck realized he wanted to tell Eddie how he felt. Sure, it was scary as hell, but having these feelings and not acting on them after all this time, was freaking killing him.

Buck didn't want to be afraid anymore. He had been talking to his therapist not to hide away from feelings—something Buck had done most of his life.

He sighed as he changed into his sweat bottoms and a tank top, regretting his life choices as the humidity of a wet towel lingered around his body; he couldn't wait to get back to California.

Buck turned the AC as low as he could, hearing the rumble it started making. "Lovely," he muttered.

Eddie opened the door and raised an eyebrow, "What the hell is that noise?"

Buck's reply was all but lost on him as he took Eddie in, wearing his tight workout bottoms and his chiseled bare chest.

Holy crap... how was he going to function for the rest of the night, especially lying next to this Adonis?

He cleared his throat, "Sorry, I had to crank the AC on to deal with this god awful humidity."

"And here I thought you could handle the heat," Eddie smirked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

If Eddie were flirting with him, he'd take it and give it right back.

"You know I can handle a lot," he replied, moving closer to his friend, "but sometimes a man can only take so much." Buck rolled his hand down his shirt, feeling the sweat already pressing through.

Eddie's eyes followed his hand as they traveled down, but then Eddie looked towards the single queen bed, "C'mon, let's get some sleep. We've gotta be up in a few hours."

Guess that was the end of that.

"Roger that."

As they got into bed, Buck's body was vibrating, shaking with anxious anticipation.

Eddie switched the light off and muttered as he turned away from Buck, "Good night."

"Night, Eddie."

They laid there for what felt like an eternity, and Buck felt more awake than ever.

The mixture of humidity and Eddie's body heat so close was overwhelming. Buck wanted to move further away to catch his breath, but he also wanted to straddle the guy.

What a predicament.

He flipped back-and-forth, trying to get not only comfortable but hoping to turn off his thoughts for a while.

Finally, he just sat staring at the ceiling, hearing sirens somewhere outside. They were still going strong on the fire—that would be them soon enough.

Buck had to get some sleep; his safety and his team's depended on it. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

"Buck?"

His eyes popped open. He turned his head towards Eddie, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay over there?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you're flopping around like the omelet my son had for dinner," Eddie mumbled sleepily.

Buck laughed without humor at the ridiculousness of wanting his best friend so badly. "I'm fine, sorry about that. Can't seem to get comfortable."

"It is a tiny bed. I can scoot over more if you want, though?"

As Eddie started to shift over more, Buck grabbed his arm on impulse, feeling his thick muscles, "No, no, it's okay. You don't need to do that."

"Well, if it's the heat, you might wanna lose your fleece sweat pants."

Buck bit his lip at what Eddie was implying. He attempted to make his comment light, "You'd know with your hometown experience I suppose."

"Mmhmm."

"Okay, that might help. If you don't mind, of course."

"Why would I mind?" Eddie asked, turning over to look at Buck through the darkness.

"Uh, I dunno. Just wanted to be respectful is all."

"Buck, we've known each other for a long time. You taking off your pants won't offend me," Eddie said. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "Believe me."

"Okay, okay, I'll take off my pants then." Buck smiled as he stood up, removing his pants and then his shirt. All that was left was his boxer briefs. It was both a relief and a turn on, especially as he noticed Eddie watching him.

Eddie rolled over onto his stomach and chuckled, "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me for it."

"I do."

The words halted Buck in his tracks, and he just sat there.

I do.

Eddie looked at him while he was stuck being frozen, "Buck? What is it?"

I do.

Buck exhaled as he lowered himself back into bed, "It's nothing." It was everything.

He maneuvered under the sheets and put his hands behind his head, exhaling loudly.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Buck replied, closing his eyes.

The problem was, he just didn't know where to start.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fox #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bed sharing #friends to lovers #*my fic

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xtrashmammalstefx · 4 years

Text

Where My Demon’s Hide (A Zak Bagans x Nephilim Reader SMUT!)

WARNINGS: SMUT, LANGUAGE

SPECIAL THANKS TO: @xcazzax who not only gave me this idea but who has inspired me to maybe write Zak Bagans fics for each day of October (or at least try to). Thanks girly, for helping me get my mojo back. 😊

I arrived at the Asylum just as they were setting up the cameras. I've been with the GAC for a few years now and I have yet to have a boring day with them. They are and always will be my family. Aaron, was like a goofball older brother who smokes like a chimney, looks tough as shit but is actually chicken shit (not that that's a bad thing, lord knows I'm not brave when locked in a haunted room on my lonesome). Billy is my punk rock brother who has also not grown out of the punk/emo phase of life. Jay is the responsible one of the group (aka the dad) who sometimes looks like he's ashamed of having raised such dumbass kids. And there's Zak, the main man of GAC who is both crazy and beautiful. He wasn't afraid to get in an evil spirits face, and even opened up his home to those who were harming others in their old one's. It's that twisted generosity that has led to moments like these.

Aaron looked nervous and Billy seemed to not want to leave the van unless absolutely necessary. That only meant one thing.

“How is he?” I asked Aaron who was getting the equipment ready.

“Um, well...”

“ C'MON SHOW YOURSELF YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!” We heard Zak yell from inside the asylum.

“Oh,” I sighed. I swear it was like Zak attracted evil (and sometimes demonic) spirits like chocolate attracts a hoard of kids. Then again he was more than okay with investigating places with the most gruesome of histories. “I'll see if I can cool him down before the shoot. Just hang tight.”

“'Kay, good luck Y/N.” Aaron said.

I grabbed a flashlight from the van and walked in to the asylum. Zak was in the middle of reception area with a wild look in his eye. “Zak?”

He looked at me. “There's something here I-I know it!”

I looked around not seeing anything until my eyes landed on a shadowy figure hovering around Zak. Ah shit. “Zak it's not one of the residents,” I said. “One of your little friends is just being an asshole.”

The shadow looked up and snarled at me.

“Yeah I'm talking about you,” I rolled my eyes. “Now kindly fuck off before I hose your sorry ass down with holy water.”

It growled and vanished.

“Thanks,” Zak said calming down a bit.

“We really need to do something about this Zak,” I said. “You can't keep letting them get to you like that. It's how they win.”

“I know but...I don't know how else to keep them from hurting anyone,” he said. “From hurting you.”

“Well it's gone for now, and that's all that matters,” I said brushing his cheek with my hand. “Now are we just gonna chill in here or are we gonna investigate this bitch?”

He smirked. “C'mon my ghost whisperer let's get you a mic and a camera.” He threw his arm around my shoulders and escorted me back out of the asylum and to the GAC van.

Eventually the sun went down fully and the haunting hour was upon us. “Okay Y/N why don't you stay here by yourself for a bit and see what you can get.” Zak said when we reached the children's ward.. Sadistic fucker.

“Sure,” I said. He and the crew left and I sat down cross-legged on the ground and put my 'gift' to work. “Hello there. I was wondering if we could talk for a minute if that's okay.” I placed the spirit box on the floor in front of me. “You see this little box? Well if you talk into it I can hear you...er I mean the world will hear you. I for one don't really need it. So what do you say?”

“D-Do you know where my mommy is?” A small voice called out in the darkness.

I sighed. “No sweetie, I don't...what's your name?”

“H-Hazel,” she said.

“It's nice to meet you, Hazel, I'm Y/N,” I said. “Can you do me a favor and speak into this?” I motioned at the spirit box. “My friends really want to know you, and help you if we can.”

“R-Really? Wuh-What about Dr. Meanie?” she asked.

“Dr. Bronson can't hurt you anymore,” I said. “And if he tries, he'll have to deal with me.”

I suddenly felt a weight on my lap, like that of a small child snuggling up to mommy.

“I-Is this okay?” she asked.

“Yes, beautiful, it's fine.” I reached out and wrapped my arms around her. “God, how did such a sweet little angel like you end up here? This is no place for a child.”

“M-Mommy came here when I was still in her tummy,” she explained. “They took me away after I was born and I never saw her again.”

“Do you know how you ended up like this?” I asked. “You're awfully young to be as you are.”

“I-I got sick...Dr. Meanie wouldn't give me my medicine 'cause I slapped Tippy on the head for pulling my hair. One day I went to sleep, and...and suddenly I was invisible.”

“Have you tried to go into the light?” I asked. “I'm sure you'll find your mommy there, and someday I'll be there too.”

“I thought I saw it once but...I was afraid. Dr. Meanie tells us it's not safe.”

“It is safe,” I said. “I promise you it is a thousand times better than this place.” I wanted to say shit hole but I had a rule about cussing in front of kids, even the dead ones.

“It's in my room,” she whispered.

I sniffed back a tear and kissed the top of her head. “Go to it,” I urged her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, angels belong in heaven after all,” I said brushed her cheek and she giggled.

“Thank you, Ms. Y/M,” she said standing up and vanishing through the nearby doorway.

“Good bye sweet angel,” I said before turning off the spirit box and pausing my camera.

I left the ward and got Zak on the walkie. “Alright, I'm done.”

“'Kay I'm down in the basement if you wanna...WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Zak?” He didn't answer. “ZAK!?” Still nothing. I sighed. “Dammit.”

I took off running.

Down in the basement Zak was looking around and shouting like a madman. “Zak what happened?! What's going on?!”

“There was a shadowing standing right fucking next to me,” he said. I looked around and sure enough a tall shadowy figured hovered behind him.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” I snapped at it.

“My, my...” it said smugly. “Aren't you an interesting specimen.”

“Leave us alone, now!” I said. It laughed. “I'm not fucking around! Leave and never return to this sacred ground.” He flinched at the words I've said more times than I would like.

“Foolish woman,” he laughed. “This place is anything but sacred.”

“It wasn't in your time,” I said walking towards a nearby wall. “But now...” I took my bottle of holy water and dabbed some onto my hand. I then drew a cross on the wall.

“Is that all you got?” the demon scoffed.

I smirked. “Lesson number one in haunting,” I said taking out my small switchblade. I made a small cut on my fore finger and drew a symbol on the wall above the cross. A symbol no demon could fight against. “Don't piss off a Nephilim.”

The empty pits where it's eyes once were widened and a loud roar erupted from its mouth.

“I, Y/N, the daughter of Michael send thee to the house of thy uncle Lucifer...may he not have mercy on your soul.” The ground opened up and the shadow was swallowed by a wall of flames. “I hate fucking demons,” I muttered once it was gone.

Zak looked at me in shock. “Is there really never gonna be a time when this doesn't surprise you?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said snapping out of it.

“You feeling okay?” I asked placing my hand on his cheek.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks...”

“Anytime,” I said pecking him on the cheek.

We continued investigating and got plenty of evidence that made sleeping not an option for the next year.

That night we were hold up in a hotel. I couldn't sleep so once I was showered and jammied up I went for a walk. So many different things ran through my mind and I tried to sort them out as best I could. But then I heard the shouting...

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” Zak damn near roared. “For fucks sake!” I heard him cry.

I went up to his door and knocked furiously. “Zak it's me, let me in!”

“Not now Y/N,” he begged.

“Yes now,” I snapped at him. “I know there's someone there with you and I'm the only one who can help, so let me fucking in!”

A moment later the door opened and Zak stood there looking exhausted and just done with life. It was terrifying and heartbreaking. ..but it was nothing compared to what his friend looked like. It was a snarling beast with skin resembling that of a dried date; brown and shiny. It's arm was around Zak's neck, holding him in a choke-hold. “He is mine.” It said, it's voice deep and chilling.

“No,” I said. “No he fucking isn't!”

I wrapped my arms around Zak and the demon let go as though it had burned. “A daughter of Michael...why am I not surprised?”

“In the name of my father leave this place!” I demanded.

“Brave like your father...” It said. “Unfortunately you're as foolish as he is as well. Watch your back daughter of Michael for I am not the only one in this world and my brethren aren't as friendly as I...” Friendly. My. Ass.

“IN THE NAME OF MY FATHER LEAVE THIS PLACE YOU COCKAROACH LOOKING SHIT!” I demanded once more...this time he listened.

With the demon gone I pulled back. “It's gone.”

Zak nodded. “Which one was it?”

“I think it was one of the pests you picked up at Bobby Mackey's.” I explained helping him to his bed.

“I thought we got rid of all of them?” he asked.

“Yeah well it seems this conniving little fucker did a good job of hiding during the clean up,” I said. “You gonna be okay?”

“I think so,” he said. “But I'd still feel better if you stayed...if that's alright.”

“You don't even have to ask,” I said rubbing his back with my hand. “Jesus,” I gasped. “You're burning up!”

“I just had a hot shower...the tap might have been busted 'cause shit was that water scalding.” I rolled my eyes.

“It didn't burn you too bad did it?” I asked. He shrugged. “Alright off with the shirt.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “Not like that...I just wanna check for burns.”

He pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it aside. I crawled behind him on the bed and inspected his back. His skin was smooth, without so much as a scar. Even the tattoo on top was left unscathed. I leaned in and brought my lips to it. “You're good,” I said.

He turned around and our faces were suddenly closer than they've ever been. “Z-Zak?”

He said nothing...just leaned in and brought his lips to mine. So far in this brief life I've had four unforgettable nights.

The first was when I first met my dad when I was five. The second was when I found out what I was when I was thirteen...I felt at peace knowing everything I'd experienced finally made sense. The third was when I used my power to help the spirit of my best friend move on after a drunken asshole took her life. The fourth was the first time I went to Zak's house and gave him answers about the entities there.

And now...I was experiencing my fifth.

After a while Zak and I leaned back on the bed. His pants wound up joining his shirt, and eventually my clothes followed. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight as he pushed into me. I gasped. Like the rest of him, his length was pretty... thick.

I whimpered as he moved inside me. Our skin slapped together and he grunted with almost every thrust. I don't know how much time had passed but eventually I tightened around him, my toes curling up. “ZAAAK!!!” I moaned as my whole body tensed up.

Zak thrust a few more time, each time becoming more sloppy. “FUCK!” He groaned as he filled me up. He collapsed beside me and eventually sleep overcame us.

“I love you,” I whispered just before I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up needing very badly to pee. I tiptoed to the bathroom (not wanting to wake Zak) and relieved myself. When I got back Zak was sitting up with a confused look on his face.

“Zak?” I said sitting back down next to him.

He looked at me and tightened the blanket around his hips. “Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK?”

“What? What's wrong?”

“What's wrong? Are you fucking serious?” he said freaking out. “You're naked! FUCK, I'M NAKED! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!”

“Y-You mean you don't remember?” I said suddenly feeling uneasy.

“I remember coming back to the room after the investigation. I-I remember the inhumanly hot shower...then I saw this..this thing...next thing I know I'm waking up naked and raw.” My unease grew.

“I-I don't under...” I suddenly saw a dark, leathery skinned figure standing beside Zak's side of the bed. It had a sickening smirk on it's face.

“My brother was right, daughter of Michael,” it snarled. “You really are foolish.”

Realization hit me like a truck.

“SON OF A-!”

#zak bagans #zak bagans x reader #Smut #demons #nephilim #ghost adventures

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set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

contact

prompt: sensory deprivation

whumpee: eddie diaz

fandom: 911

hi! this is sadly not that great but it is what it is...maybe you will enjoy idk :)

“Diaz, all employees are safely out of the building. You can come on outside.”

“Copy, Cap.”

Eddie makes his way through the smoke towards the closest exit. He’s almost there when there’s a strange noise from behind him. He turns around to investigate, and then there’s an absolutely deafening boom, and he’s flying back, the explosion pushing him right into the wall behind him.

He sits there on the floor, slumped against the wall, for a second, stunned. His ears are ringing and his head is hurting and it takes him a second to remember what’s happened.

He’s been hit by an explosion. First things first, he needs to assess his situation. His turnout gear and helmet seem to have protected him from the brunt of the explosion, and other than being extremely sore from his hard impact with the wall, he’s pretty confident that he’s okay. His ears are still ringing and his head aches, but those things will pass.

Assured that he’s not been seriously hurt, Eddie gets up, pushing against the floor and leaning into the wall for support. Luckily, he’d been close to the door when the explosion had hit, and it takes him all of five seconds to open it and go stumbling out into the daylight.

As the door opens, the ringing in Eddie’s ears stops. But instead of being replaced by the voices of his team as they approach him, there is only silence. He shakes his head as if to get water out of his ears, but nothing happens. He can’t hear.

His team has reached him, and he can see their mouths moving, and they must be talking to him, but he can’t hear what they’re saying.

He looks between all of them, trying to work out what it is that they might be saying to him, and he notices how worried they all look. He then realizes that this is probably because they’re expecting a reply to whatever it is they’re saying.

“I can’t hear,” he says, though he’s not completely sure he has said it - he can feel the vibrations of the words in his throat, but can’t hear them leave his mouth. It’s an incredibly strange sensation, and he really doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like this at all. He feels off-balance, off-guard, vulnerable, confused...the list goes on.

Fortunately, though, he has actually managed to speak aloud. Eddie knows this because he sees his teammates’ faces change to expressions of understanding and concern, and then Bobby reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He types on it for a minute, then extends it to Eddie.

Hen and Chim need to check you out. The crews - the 118 and the 145 - need to go back in and check out that explosion. This does NOT include you.

Eddie nods in understanding, then looks around for someone to indicate to him what he should be doing. Hen and Chim beckon for him to follow them to the ambulance, and he goes willingly.

His examination is quick - he’d been right, his most serious injury is nothing more than a bruise - and it’s also very deliberate, with Hen and Chim showing him every single thing that they’re doing, in lieu of verbally explaining it. He’d say this makes him feel like a child, but secretly, he's glad for the amount of care that they’re putting into this (not that he expects anything different from them). This is horribly disorienting and he hates it, feels trapped by it. He’ll take whatever comfort he can get, at the moment. Anything to make him feel like he really is alright.

Hen hands him her phone when they’ve finished examining him, like Bobby had done earlier. You’re all good. Just some minor bruising. I’m sure you’re freaked out about your hearing, but it’ll come back in an hour or two. Just try and relax for now. We’ll be back soon <3.

Eddie nods, manages a small smile at her message, and hands the phone back. He watches as Hen and Chim get up, leaving the back of the ambulance and jogging off to join back up with Bobby and the captain of the 145.

For a few moments, Eddie just sits there, trying and failing to not panic. He hates this. Hates how weird it feels, hates how quiet everything is, how his thoughts echo in his head, how there could be another explosion right now and he wouldn’t even know because he can’t hear it. He can’t stay here and do nothing but wait for something to happen.

He gets up from the back of the ambulance, intending to follow Hen and Chim and see if there's anything that anyone will allow him to do. Anything to distract him from the horrible nothingness in his ears. But he gets sort of off track and ends up simply wandering around the scene, trying to observe and figure out what’s going on, but not able to concentrate enough to do it.

There’s a soft tap on his shoulder, and Eddie whirls around, heartbeat speeding up in alarm. He relaxes when he sees Buck’s familiar face, now tinged with guilt.

Sorry, Buck mouths (or, more likely, says). He holds out his hand to Eddie and raises his eyebrows in a silent question. Eddie takes it, letting Buck pull him along to the truck.

“Does Bobby know you’re here?” Eddie asks as they sit down, focusing very hard to make sure that the words come out right.

Buck nods, he said it was okay.

They’re sitting pressed close to each other in the cab, the warmth of Buck’s body a welcome presence against Eddie’s side. He tries his best to focus on the feeling of Buck next to him, but somehow the silence is getting worse, more oppressive, more consuming, and he can feel himself starting to really panic and he wants it to stop but he can’t and he hates this, he hates it so much, it feels so strange and wrong and he’s trapped and afraid and -

Buck’s hand is on his cheek, and then Buck is turning Eddie so that they’re facing each other. There’s this soft look on his face and his mouth is moving and Eddie can feel the vibrations of his chest and he knows that Buck is talking to him, but he can’t pay enough attention to even attempt to work out what he’s saying.

But he doesn’t really need to. Buck’s hand is still on his cheek, and they’re looking right at each other, and Buck grabs Eddie’s right hand and places it on his chest and Eddie feels his hand move as Buck takes a deep breath, and he works out what Buck wants him to do.

He breathes deeply, matching Buck as best as he can, trying to focus on the feeling of his hand moving and on the knowledge that they are both breathing and that he is okay, or going to be, at any rate.

It works, eventually. Eddie feels his pulse slow, little by little, feels his breaths even out, sees Buck relax and smile at him, and finally relaxes slightly himself.

“Thank you,” he says, and Buck pulls his hands away from Eddie (who briefly panics again at the loss of contact), then wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugs him close, resting their heads together. It’s comfortable despite being something that Eddie normally would never let himself do, and he sinks into the contact just a little more. Buck’s hand comes up and cards through his hair, soft and gentle, and Eddie sighs contentedly (and is then briefly glad that he can’t hear himself, because that was definitely an embarrassing noise).

He closes his eyes, breathes in deeply, presses himself still closer to Buck, and waits for his hearing to return.

thanks for reading this! i have had a long long day and this basically all got written after 9 pm so i am sorry if it sucked. love you!

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump22 #sensory deprivation #caught in an explosion #emotional whump #911 #eddie diaz #my writing #i say things #had to stay late at work and do a bunch of physical labor and shit and then got home very tired #took a nap despite my best efforts to the contrary #then rehearsal which was good! we open tomorrow-ish and i am excited for everyone :)#but yeah very tired very ughhh very waiting for this week to end

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on-maars · 3 years

Text

I’ve never had a home (until you came around)

So I wrote a fic, it’s long so maybe you’ll be more comfortable reading it on ao3

Thank you @cyllaeth for being patient enough to re-read the whole thing (and also for being available 24/7 to freak out over these two)

It’s a quiet day. The station is silent and Buck is spread out on the couch, a book in his hand. A mystery book. Chimney recommended it to him the other day but Buck’s never been a big reader, for as long as he can remember. He finds it too hard, to stay focused and stay still for several hours in a row. He needs action. He needs to move, stay busy and as much as he would love to finish this book so he can share his opinions with his friend, today is just not the day.

He’s been feeling restless, fidgety during the whole day and of course it had to happen during one of his most boring shifts. Not that Buck doesn’t appreciate the silence. He does. It actually feels nice to have some time to rest and relax, for a change. He even managed to take a nap in the beginning of the afternoon but now that his batteries are recharged, he’s desperately waiting for a call.

He sighs and tries to bring his attention back to his book but gives up after a few seconds. He’s been reading the same paragraph for more than twenty minutes and if you’d ask him, he would be incapable of telling you what’s the main plot of the book. He sees the words, he reads them but it’s like his brain can’t process a single thing.

He lets the book fall on the couch and sweeps the room with his eyes. There’s Chimney, seated at the kitchen’s table, still reading the same parenting book, a highlighter in his right hand. Hen, who seems as focused as his friend – if not more – her eyes squint in concentration as she writes some words on her notebook, most likely still revising for her big exam coming up. There’s Bobby quietly busying himself in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the whole team.

And then there’s Eddie. Eddie, sprawled on the other side of the sofa, looking at Buck with an amused expression on his face. Buck raises his eyebrows at him in confusion but his best-friend just shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

“I’m bored.” Buck sighs, defeated.

“Just read your damn book, Buckley.” Chimney says from where he’s seated. “I can hear you wriggling on the couch for the past ten minutes, you’re making me nervous.”

Buck rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at his face before taking his cellphone out of his jean’s pocket. There’s a message from Carla and a big smile breaks in on his face when his eyes fall on a picture of a (more than unstable) Lego house, accompanied by a small text.

“Bucky, I just built a new lego house!! (this is Christopher)”

“Looking good, superman!”

“God I love that kid so much.” Buck says, the words coming out of his mouth of their own accord. This earns him a confused look from Eddie who instantly straightens up when Buck lends him his phone, and it only takes a few seconds for a soft smile to appear on his friend’s face as well.

“He just answered.” Eddie adds, handing him his phone back to him.

“Can you come home this week-end so we can build the fire station together?”

“You got it!”

“You can come over on Sunday if you want.” Eddie offers and Buck only nods, mirroring his smile.

“You know I can’t say no to my favorite Diaz.” He answers.

“You’re spoiling him too much.” Eddie reproaches him while nudging him playfully. And Buck doesn’t feel that restless anymore. He feels good, warm, and tries very hard to think about anything else but the intimacy he’s suddenly sharing with his best-friend, whether it be the way their knees touch, the way Eddie’s hand feels on his wrist, his thumb tracing slow circles on his skin, or the way his own heart pound against his chest, so hard and so fast he feels it might explode.

That moment only lasts a few seconds. A couple of minutes, at most, until they all gathered around the table to share lunch. The atmosphere is calm, serene, but Buck’s head is spinning and he’s afraid. Afraid to look up and catch Eddie’s eyes, afraid to do something that can give him away, afraid to say something which may be deemed inappropriate. Because the truth is, when it comes to his best-friend, he doesn’t know what is appropriate and what isn’t anymore. Their relationship has always been very intimate, sure, but it feels to Buck that it has just reached another milestone.

That’s why he’s not prepared when Eddie says these next few words.

“I asked her out. Ana. She said yes.” He says, and Buck’s mind goes blank.

She said yes. Of course she did – he thinks. Who would say no? Who would say no to his kind, sweet, caring and stupidly hot best-friend? They’d be crazy not to – he wants to say, but once again his words get stuck in his throat and he just fakes a smile instead. Faking smiles to avoid any awkward conversations. He can do that. He’s been doing that for years.

“You did?” Hen asks, his eyebrows raised, seemingly surprised.

“That’s… That’s cool man. I guess.” Chimney adds, but the whole atmosphere has changed. It’s not calm anymore. It’s dense, heavy, filled with a sense of bitterness no-one dares to question. It’s common knowledge now that Buck is helplessly and desperately in love with his best-friend, it’s not a secret and Buck gave up on trying to hide it from his colleagues a long time ago. After all, he’s never been very good at keeping this kind of things to himself, never been very subtle, but Eddie is Eddie and Buck doesn’t know if his best-friend’s inability to see the signs comes from a place of denial or simple obliviousness, but what’s the point now? He’s moving on.

“Buck?” Eddie asks and Buck jumps with surprise. He looks up at his best-friend and smiles widely.

“That’s awesome man.” He says, and tries to muster all the confidence he can get, but that’s a wasted effort and his best-friend is already watching him with confusion. Confusion and worry.

“Are you okay?” He asks. And Buck wants to shake his head no. Because of course he isn’t, but what can he say? It’s too late, now. And so he just clears his throat and gets up, ignoring the way Hen looks at him with compassion. “I- I just need some air.” He says, turning around, but stops dead in his track when Eddie’s hand stops him from getting further by encircling his wrist, softly.

“Hey.” Eddie says and his voice is so soft Buck wants to scream. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I just need- I just need some air.” He repeats, and rushes down the stairs.

He steps out of the station and keeps walking until he reaches a small bench. He sits down and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up at the sky, his eyes bright with tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past ten minutes.

“You’re okay, Buck?” Bobby asks from behind, and Buck quickly wipes his tears with the sleeve of his jacket, turning his head around to hide himself from his Captain.

“I’m fine.” He says. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, none of that with me, alright?” Bobby adds, and takes a seat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you just tell him, kid?”

“I never thought I needed to.” Buck answers. And that’s probably the worst part. For a year now, he was convinced that him and Eddie were on the same page. There seemed to be a secret agreement between them and that was enough for Buck.

We’re not together officially but god forbids we date anyone else. That was the deal. Or so he thought. They were raising his son together. Buck was Christopher’s emergency contact, they were practically living together, the signs were there and they were clear. How could Eddie not see them?

“Maybe it’s time you use a more direct approach.”

“I’m not so sure how more direct I can be, Bobby. The guy’s just clueless. I’m pretty sure I could tell him I love him to his face and he would still find a way to make it sound completely platonic.”

Bobby huffs out a laugh. “You really do, don’t you? Love him, I mean.” He asks with a small smile. “I thought it was just a crush but it’s a lot more than that, isn’t it?”

Buck stares at Bobby for a few seconds, until he lowers his head with a sheepish smile.

“Of course it’s more than that.” He says. “Bobby, Christopher and Eddie… They’re it for me. There’ll never be anyone else, I mean it’s Eds, you know? He’s… He’s my soulmate.”

“Then don’t give up until it’s too late, alright?” Bobby answers, holding his gaze. “Cause trust me you still have time.”

Buck doesn’t answer anything and keeps his head down. They sit together for a while until the bell rings. And just like that, Buck puts his feelings aside and focuses on the task at hand.

---

It turns out Ana is great, and that’s probably the worst part now that Buck thinks about it. It would have been easier not to be on board with their relationship if she was inconsiderate, insensitive or straight-up rude. But no. She’s sweet, caring and nothing but kind to him and Buck doesn’t even find it in him to hate her. Eddie seems to love her a whole lot already and if his best-friend loves her, then he owes it to him to be happy for him, right? It only makes sense. What kind of friend would he be otherwise? What kind of friend would that make of him? A poor one, to say the least.

He’s seated at the table in Eddie’s kitchen, Christopher by his side. This one has been strangely quiet for the whole dinner and Buck wonders whether he missed out on something. He’s nibbling at his peas, his eyes fixed on his plate and his usual very cheerful demeanor has been replaced by a sullen one. His shoulders are slumped, but not by choice, Buck knows that kid well enough to see that something is bothering him, something so big he seems to struggle to carry the weight on his own.

“So Buck.” Ana starts and Buck looks up at her with a smile. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh uh we met at work.” He says, finding it weird that she doesn’t already know the answer to that question. “He was a new recruit.”

“He used to hate me.” Eddie says with a smile, nudging him playfully.

“Shut up, I didn’t hate you I was just feeling-”

“Threatened?” Eddie cuts him off, mocking him. Buck huffs out a laugh and cradles his chin with his right hand to make him look away. Because there’s really no need for his best-friend to notice how his cheeks start to redden now, is there?

“You think you’re so funny.” He adds.

“Bucky is dad’s best friend.” Christopher says out of the blue, holding his fork tight around his fingers, his eyes fixed on Ana.

“I thought I was yours!” Buck exclaims, faking being hurt by pressing his hand over his mouth in shock. This earns him a small laugh from Christopher who vigorously nods.

“Well his second best-friend, then.” He corrects himself. “And they love each other very much.” He adds, firmly, almost as if he’s trying to prove a point. Buck frowns for a few seconds but eventually nods at him, making sure Christopher knows he agrees with him on every point.

“We’re all very close.” Buck adds, conversationally.

“The 118 really is like a big family, isn’t it?” Ana asks. “Edmundo talks a lot about you guys.”

Edmundo. That may be the only thing Buck doesn’t like about her and from the way Eddie flinches next to him, he suspects he’s not the only one. He only hums approvingly and lets his eyes fall on his best-friend. He finds it weird, how Eddie acts around Ana. He finds it weird and unsettling. And at first, Buck only thought it was because he was meeting her for the first time and Eddie really wanted both of them to get along. Which made sense. They were best-friends after all, and Buck would probably feel the same way if he was in his shoes.

But now that he takes a closer look at him, Buck realizes that it’s not it. Eddie looks doubtful, hesitant, unsure, almost as if he’s dancing to another tune. He smiles and laughs and acts the same but something just feels off, wrong. It’s like he’s there but not quite, like his brain is working too fast and he has trouble catching up. His gestures lack of confidence, Buck can sometimes see him trying to reach out to Ana but his hand often stops midway, stays motionless for a few seconds until Eddie brings it back on his thigh, biting his lower lip. And Buck gets the willingness to impress the other person and makes sure that everything goes well, but it’s like Eddie is playing a character and that, Buck can’t get behind.

Ana is talking about her role as a vice-principal and Buck is only half-listening, not because the conversation isn’t interesting but because he’s too deep into his thoughts to focus on what she’s saying.

“Dad?” Christopher asks after a while, the slice of prune pie still left untouched on his plate. “Can I go back to my room?”

“Try and eat a bit before, alright?”

“I’m not hungry.” Christopher answers, and Buck holds back a smile when Eddie watches his son with a knowing look. You’re still hungry, you just don’t like the pie Ms Flores baked, don’t try to fool me. That’s what Eddie’s saying; Buck has become an expert in knowing how to understand non-verbal communication between the Diaz boys throughout the years and this time isn’t any different.

“Fine I just don’t like it, it’s gross.” Christopher says, his voice indifferent.

“Christopher!” Eddie exclaims, pointing the finger at him.

“I’m going to my room.” He repeats, getting up and leaving the kitchen without looking back. A heavy silence slowly settles in the kitchen and Buck wastes no time to get up as well.

“I’m gonna check up on him.” He says, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder, not missing the way all the tension seems to melt away from his body at the touch.

Buck stands up and lets his hand linger a bit more on Eddie’s back, leaving the kitchen with a sigh. When he gets to Christopher’s room, this one is seated on the ground, his back facing him. A few books are lying around next to him and a whole box of Legos has been spilled on the carpet. Buck takes a few steps forward and knocks on the door a few times, smiling at him when Christopher looks up.

“Hey, is it okay if I come in?” He asks, waiting for Christopher to nod to sit down cross-legged next to him, leaning his back on the bed. “You okay in there, buddy?”

“No.” Christopher’s voice is low and filled with an animosity Buck’s not used to hear.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t like her.” He says, and Buck frowns.

"You don’t like Ms Flores?” He asks, and Christopher nods again, sticking two Legos bricks together. “Why? I thought she was your favorite teacher, back then.”

“She was. I like her as a teacher, not as dad’s girlfriend.” He says. “I don’t understand why she needs to be around all the time. I like it better when it’s just the three of us.”

“I like that too buddy but your dad and her like each other very much, you know? That’s why they’re spending so much time together. But I’m always going to be around, okay? The thing we have, the three of us? It’s not going to go away. I promise. I’ll always be there.” He explains, but from the way Christopher bites his lower lip and keeps his head down, he can see he’s still unsure.

“But I don’t think she makes dad happy, Buck.” He adds.

“You don’t?”

“No. Not as much as you do. He’s always so happy when you’re here. You make him smile, and laugh. I like him better when he’s with you. When he’s with her, he’s weird. He doesn’t act the same way, I don’t like it. And she always uses complicated words and the conversations are boring and she never plays with me. And she doesn’t know how to do the voices when she’s reading a story. You’re the only one who knows how to do it.”

Buck sighs and runs one of his hands through his hair, not knowing how to extricate himself from that situation without giving himself away. Because Christopher might be a kid but he’s far from being stupid, or naive.

“You tried telling what you just told me to your dad?” He tries.

“Why can’t you just be the one who stays?” Christopher asks and ignores his question. “I don’t understand why you can’t be the one who stays.” He repeats and his voice is louder than it was a few seconds ago. “We don’t need her with us, we need you.”

“Chris, your dad and I… We’re best friends. We’re best-friends and we like each other very much but sometimes… Sometimes, a person needs more. Sometimes, it’s not enough.” He says, closing his eyes to try and stay focused.

“But you’re enough!” Christopher says. “You are and I know dad thinks the same. He loves you.”

“He told you that?”

“He doesn’t need to, I just know.” Christopher shrugs his shoulders. “He’s more like himself when he’s with you. He’s smiling and laughing and he’s always looking at you the same way he used to look at mom when she was still around. He doesn’t look at her like this. He never did. And I hope he never does.” He adds and Buck lowers his head down, cursing himself mentally.

“Listen Chris, me and your dad, we… We can’t have what your mom and dad used to have.”

“Why?” He asks, confusion clearly shown on his face.

“Well, because I’m a man and-”

“But if he’s looking at you the same way he used to look at mom, why does it matter if you’re a man or not? My friend Amy at school, she has two dads. I know it’s possible, and you love my dad. I know you do.”

“I-” Buck tries but his words get stuck in his throat once again, and he never thought a nine-year-old kid would manage to back him into a corner like that and yet here he is. “It’s – It’s complicated, buddie.”

“It’s not. It’s only complicated because you’re an adult and adults always like to say that everything is complicated when they don’t want to explain stuff to kids. But it’s not. It’s easy. You’re always looking at him. When you come for the movie nights, you’re always the one who make dinner for us because we love your cooking. You hug him every time you leave our house and you do the same things with me that mom used to do. You’re helping me with my homework, you’re telling me a story every time I go to bed and you’re always making me feel better when I’m sad.”

“When did you become so smart?” Buck asks, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“So you do love him.” Christopher says. “You love my dad.” He adds, placing one of his hands on Buck’s cheek.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes but you said I was smart. If you think I’m smart, then it means I’m right. You love my dad.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and smiles when Christopher wraps both of his arms around his neck.

“If you love him, you should tell him.” He says. “Carla always tells me that if you love someone, then you should tell them.”

“And I should listen to Carla, right?” Buck asks.

“You should always listen to Carla.” Christopher rectifies. “That’s what my dad says.”

“Alright then.” He answers, tousling his hair. “Then I’ll try. I promise.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell him anything.”

–--

When Buck gets back to the living-room, Ana is gone and Eddie is back to his usual self. Disheveled hair, his sleeves rolled up and the few first buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. His posture is more relaxed and natural, the tension has disappeared from his shoulders and it’s like he’s breathing again.

He’s clearing the table and Buck joins him, wiping the plates and the silverware while Eddie handles the washing part.

“Ana left?”

“She did, I- I kinda asked her to, I wanted to make sure Christopher’s okay.” Eddie says, his voice filled with worry. “He doesn’t like her very much, does he?”

“It’s- It’s not that.” Buck says, trying to figure out what’s the best way to act right now. “He’s just… He’s just adjusting, Eds, and- you don’t need to rush into this, you know?”

“You think I’m rushing into this?” Eddie asks, looking up at him in search of reassurance.

Buck sighs and looks down at the plate in his hands, wondering what to say. Telling him the truth is not an option, at least not right now. He can see his best-friend’s head is filled with unanswered questions and doubts and the last thing Buck wants is to give him another reason to panic and overthink, and saying I’m in love with you and I really wish you would stop trying so hard to play a role that doesn’t look anything like you when you’re with her because it’s making me everyone uncomfortable is probably not the way to go.

“Maybe?” Buck says, carefully.

“Buck.” Eddie starts, exasperated. “Straight to the point, please?”

“Look, I… I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove, here.” He answers, placing the dried plate in the cupboard.

“I’m not trying to prove anything, but Bobby told me I should start taking advantages of the opportunities that are right in front of me and that’s what I’m doing. I’m dating Ana. She’s nice. I like her.”

“Who are you trying to convince here, me or yourself?” Buck asks. “He really said that? Bobby, I mean? And you think he was talking about Ana?”

“Well if not her, who else? She was right in front of me during that call.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. It’s like the universe is screaming at you. And you refuse to listen. That’s what he said to him that day and Buck has to refrain himself from repeating these exact same words.

“Listen Eds. All I’m saying is that you don’t need to pretend to be someone that you’re not when you’re with her. You shouldn’t have to do that for a relationship to work. And I get it. I do. I get the will to impress her but that’s not what this is about here, Eds.” He says. “Christopher sees it too, you know.”

Eddie whirls his head around. “He said that to you?”

“Not in these actual words.” Buck precises. “But that was the overall idea, I think.” He adds. “It’s a big change for him, I guess he just needs time to… To adjust.”

“Should I go talk to him?” Eddie asks and that’s just another thing that makes Buck want to scream. The way Eddie always comes to him for parental advice as if Buck’s as involved in raising Christopher as he is, as if Buck is as entitled as he is to take decisions concerning Christopher’s well being. It makes him hope for something bigger, makes him hope for something greater, makes him hope for something he knows he can’t have.

“I don’t know Eds.” He still says after a while. “He probably needs some time alone.”

“Alright.” Eddie agrees, leaning against the kitchen counter, the dish towel placed on his right shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Well I should probably head back.” Buck says with a smile. “I’m pretty tired and it’s a big shift tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.” Eddie answers and wraps his arms around his back to bring him closer. Buck rests his chin on his right shoulder and closes his eyes for a few seconds, sighing in relief. Because as much as he would like for them to stop being so intimate, a part of him is simply always going to be drawn to him, and when Eddie moves his hand from his back to his neck, letting his fingers play with the roots of his hair, Buck is pretty sure the universe is ganging up against him.

---

It starts slowly, so slowly Buck doesn’t really think anything of it, at first. After all, it’s only texts. Texts that Eddie doesn’t answer to, texts that Eddie ignores. It’s nothing much, nothing worth arguing over and the last thing Buck wants is to sound possessive or excessive, and so he says nothing.

But then days turn into weeks and it’s just not texts anymore, it’s calls that are ignored, movie nights that are canceled and Buck tries to stay calm, he tries very hard to stay calm and clear-headed but he can’t shake off the feeling that he’s being left out from what used to be his safe place. And that’s something Buck could have handled, that’s something Buck could have faced but what’s intolerable for him is that he promised Christopher that things would never change, that he wouldn’t go away, and yet that’s exactly what’s happening. And Buck hates himself for it.

“It’s not gonna last.” Hen says one day when they’re both seated at the kitchen’s table inside the fire station. They had shared a lunch together and Eddie had taken the opportunity to formally introduce Ana to the team. Nothing quite out of the ordinary – Buck thinks, if it isn’t for the fact that once again, Eddie didn’t look like himself the whole time Ana was there. “I mean don’t get me wrong Ana’s awesome but that’s just not gonna last.” She repeats, once Eddie left the station to walk Ana back to her car.

“Ditto.” Chimney only says as he’s taking a seat next to them. “There’s no chemistry there, trust me.”

“So it’s like that, now?” Buck asks with a knowing smile. “You have a kid and all of a sudden you’re an expert in loving relationships?”

“You really don’t need to be an expert to see that it’s not gonna work.” Hen intervenes. “What are your thoughts, Cap?”

“If this is something Eddie wants to pursue then we should trust his judgment.” Bobby says carefully but the hesitant expression on his face says otherwise.

“But?” Hen asks. “We get it you’re nice but tell us what you really think.”

“Well let’s just say when I told Eddie to take advantage of the opportunities that were right in front of him, I didn’t necessarily mean Ana.” He admits, his eyes on Buck.

Buck shrugs his shoulders and looks down with a sad smile. “Yeah no offense but I don’t think he got that part, Cap.”

“He will.” Bobby affirms.

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that.” Buck contradicts him. “She’s already more around than me and I- Look I promised Christopher I wouldn’t go anywhere cause he’s freaking out about the whole thing but this is exactly what’s happening right now. He’s moving on. And there’s no place for me there anymore, which – you know – it’s fine. I should have seen this coming. But it still hurts, and I don’t mind me hurting but I know Christopher’s hurting as well and that I- I can’t stand it, Cap. I just can’t.”

“Then tell him, Buck.” Bobby advises. “Tell Eddie.”

“Tell me what?” Eddie says from behind. Buck whirls his head around but it doesn’t seem like Eddie heard more than that and he lets out a relieved sigh.

“I just-” Buck stops mid-sentence and only goes on when Hen sends him an encouraging smile. “I was just wondering if we could do something with Christopher someday. It’s been a while and… Well I miss the kid.” He adds and Eddie’s face instantly softens.

“Of course we can. You have anything in mind?”

“Well there’s this space museum not far from here. It’s still a one hour drive but you know I- I figured we could give it a try.” Eddie smiles and instantly nods, taking his phone from his back pocket.

“Great. I’ll ask Ana if she’s down for it.”

As soon as these few words are out in the open, a heavy silence settles in the room. Buck bites his lower lip and looks down at his feet with a sigh, Chimney snorts and Hen lifts her hand to her forehead in embarrassment.

“… Or not.” Eddie says after he reads the room, putting his phone down on the table. “Just the three of us?” He asks and Buck looks up at him with a hopeful expression.

“If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay Buck, I-” Eddie starts and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?”

Buck dismisses it with a hand’s gesture. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Eddie says, shaking his head. “It’s not and I’m sorry.” He adds. “Can you… Can you guys give us a moment?” He asks, and Hen instantly gets up and gestures at Chimney to do the same. When Buck turns his head, they’re both gone and Bobby is already seated in his office, probably busy with some paperwork. He’s alone with Eddie. “Alright I’m listening.”

“Listening to what?” Buck asks him, confused.

“Listening to you telling me how much I fucked up as a friend.”

“You didn’t fuck u-”

“Buck.” Eddie cuts him off, firmly resolved to hear what’s on Buck’s mind. Buck holds his gaze for a few seconds, looking for a way out, but looks down and sighs in defeat.

“Eddie it’s fine.” He says. “You were probably busy with Ana and I know what it’s like to have the impression that your life only resolved around the other person at first, it’s- As I said. It’s fine. And you know I probably should have seen thi-”

“No.” Eddie cuts in again, placing one of his hands on Buck’s shoulder. “You’re not getting out of that one by blaming yourself, okay? Now tell me. What did I do wrong?”

“You ignored my texts.” Buck says, shrugging his shoulders like it’s not a big deal but Eddie keeps staring at him and encouraging him to say more and what the hell? - Buck thinks. His best-friend is the one looking for confrontation here and he’d be damned if he didn’t take the opportunity to get it all of his chest. “You ignored my calls.” He adds. “You canceled movie nights two times because you had plans with Ana – which is fine cause you’re allowed to do that but damn Eddie, Christopher made me promise that I wouldn’t go anywhere, he made me promise that things wouldn’t change if you started dating Ana and look at us, now. I’m barely coming over to your house anymore. It’s been one week and a half since I last saw him and you know damn well that I love this kid like he was my own and I hate myself for letting him go through that.”

“What else?” Eddie asks, his eyes already bright with tears.

“You shut me out, Eddie.” Buck answers, looking up at him, his eyes filled with a determination that scares him. “You shut me out.” He repeats but slower, this time.

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Lonely.” Buck answers honestly. “Angry. Sad. Confused. But mostly lonely.”

“Why is that?” Eddie asks and Buck huffs out a laugh, looking up at him incredulously.

“What do you think?” He answers and his tone comes out harsher than he intended and Eddie looks up at him in surprise. “I’ve never had a home, Eddie.” He adds, and his voice breaks. “I’ve never had a home until you came around. Even with my parents I felt like a stranger in my own house. And I know I said that the 118 has always felt like a family to me and I mean it but you and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.” Buck says. "I mean I- I love you, alright?”

“And we love you too.” Eddie answers, cupping his cheeks with his hands. “We do, and you’re always going to be a part of this family, okay? I promise. I’m sorry I acted like a jerk.” He adds, bringing his lips to his forehead and Buck swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the touch. “Listen I promised Ana I would get dinner with her tonight but how do you feel about spending some time with Christopher?”

“I’d like that.” Buck says with a smile.

“I promise I won’t be long” Eddie adds. “And tomorrow we can go to that space museum. Just the three of us. Deal?”

“Deal.”

---

When Eddie goes back home after their shit, he has to witness Buck breaking down in tears and hugging Christopher close to his chest. Christopher had his eyes closed and from the way he’s clinging on to Buck, there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that Buck’s absence had left a large void in his son’s life. And his heart breaks at the sight.

Bucky you’re home – Christopher had said to him, his chin rested on his right shoulder.

You’re home – Eddie repeats quietly to himself as he makes his way over to Ana’s house. He knocks on the door a few times and smiles at her when she opens it, taking a step to the side to let him in. She guides him to the couch and immediately starts to talk about his day as a vice-principal, which is usually something Eddie would try and listen with the greatest attention, but not today. Not today. Today, Christopher and Buck’s words are being played over and over again in his head and Eddie’s mind is a thousand miles away from that room.

Bucky you’re home.

I’ve never had a home until you came around.

You and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.

I’m not home – Eddie suddenly thinks to himself.

“I’m sorry?” Ana asks, confused and Eddie whirls his head around when he realizes he just said those words out loud. “You’re not home?”

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Home. It became such a strange concept for Eddie along the years. A constant evolution. In the first few years of his life, home was wherever his parents were. His childhood house, a cabin in the mountains during Christmas’ holiday, a tent in the middle of the forest. It didn’t matter where he was, as long as he was there with his parents, and his sisters.

And then he met Shannon and suddenly the word ‘home’ wasn’t only resolving around his parents and his sisters anymore. It became a bit larger to include her and then Christopher. His son was already his whole world back then and Eddie would have done anything for him.

But then Afghanistan happened and his life in Texas started to be tainted by arguments and harsh words. And so Eddie fled, convincing himself that maybe the army could become his new home. But god, was he wrong, and he quickly was hit by the realization that he would never really be home if Christopher wasn’t by his side.

And sure he considers the 118 as his family but his home? His home is with Christopher.

Eddie doesn’t really know when Buck first entered into the equation.

Maybe it’s when he first met Chris and that these two instantly hit it off. Maybe it’s when Buckley-Diaz movie nights became a thing. Maybe it’s when Buck helped him build a skateboard for his son or maybe it’s when he saved him from a tsunami.

Maybe it’s a combination of all these examples and a thousand more, and to be perfectly honest Eddie doesn’t really care because Buck is there now and he doesn’t want him going anywhere.

After all, people always say that home is where the heart is.

And Eddie’s heart? Eddie’s heart is with Buck. With Christopher first, but then Buck.

So no. “I’m not home.” Eddie repeats, his eyes lowered to the ground. “I – I’m sorry Ana but I – I can’t do this anymore. Us. It’s not going to work. I wanted it to work and I thought it would but it won’t. I’m sorry.”

“Edmundo.” Ana sighs, placing her hand on his thigh.

“Eddie.” He answers. “It’s Eddie. Not Edmundo.” He adds. “I really am sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, you’ve almost been perfect but-”

“But I can’t compete with him.” She finishes for him and Eddie whirls his head around, his eyes wide.

“How can you- you’ve only seen him twice.”

“Then it must really says a lot about what he feels about you.” Ana answers, smiling sadly. "He looks at you like you’re his whole world. And sometimes, you’re looking at him the exact same way.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, sighing. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I’m sorry I swear I didn’t mean to lead you on, I really thought I was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t, and to be perfectly honest with you, Ana, I haven’t – I haven’t really been myself around you. You make me nervous all the time and I feel like – I feel like I have to become someone else when I’m with you. At first I thought it was just the nerves of starting a new relationship but… But weeks passed and it’s still there. I’m trying too hard and I’m not sure – I’m not sure it’s the right way to go.” He admits. “With him, it’s easy. It’s always been easy and maybe that’s the problem. It’s always been so easy that I – that I never took the time to wonder if there was something more going on.”

“And there is?” Ana smiles at him and this time it’s not sad, it’s sincere, honest.

“I think so.” Eddie admits, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, of course there is. Definitely.”

“Then you should go tell him that.” Ana answers.

“I can stay.” Eddie instantly says. “We had planned this for a while and I”

“You want to be with him.” She cuts him off. “Edm – Eddie. I love you. But if your happiness lies with him then I’m not going to put myself between you and him. Go.” She adds, and seems taken aback when Eddie wraps his arms around her back. She rests her chin on his shoulder and lets herself enjoy the intimacy.

“We can finish that conversation anytime, alright?” Eddie says, standing up. “We could get a coffee next week and get everything off our chests once and for all. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” Ana smiles.

Eddie waves at her one last time and rushes out of the house. He steps in his truck and starts driving. His head is spinning and his heart is pounding against his chest but he’s never been so sure of anything in his life. This is what’s been missing. This is what’s been missing all these years. Buck. The missing part of the puzzle.

Eddie parks next to Buck’s car and stays motionless for a while before feeling brave enough to get out of his truck and walks towards his house. He stops at the front door and closes his eyes, only for a few seconds. He takes a deep breath and lowers the handle. He steps in and here he is. Buck. His best-friend is standing up behind the kitchen’s counter, seemingly busing preparing pizza dough.

It’s only when Eddie closes the door behind him that Buck looks up at him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Eddie?” He asks. “I thought you had a date night with Ana.”

“I did.” Eddie says with a smile. He takes a few steps towards him. “I cut it short.”

“Why?” Buck is still frowning but Eddie can note a slight glimmer of hope crossing his eyes.

“She wasn’t the person I wanted to spend the evening with.” Eddie only says and before he knows it, he’s pressing Buck against the fridge, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss. His left hand cradles his chin and he places the other on the back of his neck. A startled noise comes out of Buck’s mouth but it only takes him a few seconds to kiss him back with just as much passion, his thumbs on his cheeks and the rest of his fingers running through his hair. Eddie smiles against his lips and moves his hands from his face to his waist, bringing him closer.

When they break apart, Buck’s hair is disheveled, his cheeks red and his lips swollen and Eddie huffs out a small laugh, his right hand grabbing onto his shirt tight, his eyes closed.

“God I’ve been so stup-”

“Shut up.” Buck cuts him off by pressing their lips together another time. The kiss is gentler this time, slower, and when Buck pulls at his hair a bit, Eddie can’t stop a small whimper from slipping out past his lips. “Wait.” Buck says, pushing him a little by placing his hand on his chest. “What about Ana?”

“I broke up with her.” Eddie instantly says, chasing his lips another time but Buck is faster and stops him from doing so by changing their positions and being the one having him pressed against the fridge.

“Why?” Buck asks.

“Because I’m in love with you.” Eddie answers so simply and that seems to be enough for Buck who lashes forward and crashes their lips together and Eddie would lie if he said he didn’t like being pressed against the fridge like that. He moves his mouth from Buck’s lips to his jaw, his neck, but stops dead in his track when a voice resonates from behind.

“You did it.” Christopher says and they jump away from each other, getting the creases out of their shirts in embarrassment. Eddie’s eyes fall on Christopher but his son only has eyes for Buck. “You told him.” He adds and a large smile breaks in on his face.

“I did.” Buck answers and huffs out a laugh when Christopher comes to him and wraps his arms around his legs. He takes him in his arms and hugs him, his eyes still fixed on Eddie.

I’ll explain later – Buck mouths to him silently with a smile.

Eddie only nods and his face softens when Christopher buries his face in the crook of Buck’s neck. It only lasts a few seconds, though, and when his son’s eyes fall on him, a small laugh escapes his lips.

“Dad, you have flour all over your hair.” He says, and Eddie runs his hands in his curls, smiling when the white powder falls on the flour. Buck looks up at him and smiles apologetically at him but Eddie dismisses it with a hand’s gesture and wraps his arms around the both of them. He sighs in relief and breathes in the scent of Buck’s after shave and Christopher’s shampoo and thinks to himself:

This is exactly where I want to be.

“Welcome back home, Buck.”

#buddie #9-1-1 #buddie fic #911 #my writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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