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obxfics · 4 years

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We’ve Always Been Real

summary: reader knows she’s supposed to be having sex with her boyfriend, but it all feels so fake, so she goes to someone she knows will make it all real

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 2,816

tagging: @thatjohnd @letsgofullkook @ims0golden

warnings: yeah this is def smut (my first attempt) and just general rafe being gross and kinda emotionally manipulative

Previous Part: You Against the World

Next Part: on the moonlit shore

a/n: this takes place in the same universe as you against the world (its a prequel when reader mentioned losing her virginity at 15 to jj) and my very first attempt at writing smut so if it sucks i am so so sorry. hope you enjoy!

You looked down at your hands and twisted your fingers in your skirt as you tried to listen to what your boyfriend was saying. It was just the two of you in his bedroom as the rest of his family was out at some event that he’d gotten out of somehow, and that should’ve clued you into what he wanted to do, but it was your first relationship. You’d never really hung out with the people from the Figure 8 much anyways other than Kie, so everything was new to you. It was a surprise when Rafe Cameron, son of the richest man in the Outer Banks, showed an interest in you, but as you had been made painfully aware, you were lucky. Your family barely qualified to be “Kooks” even if everyone loved your dad’s brunch, and so dating Rafe elevated your status. Now your family’s restaurant was always crowded, and many Kook families were interested in hiring him to cater all the parties that would inevitably be thrown in the summer. Your relationship with Rafe was helping your family, and he got a pretty, gentle girl on his arm in the meantime. The whole thing was purely transactional, and of course now after dating for a month he was ready to cash in for more.

“Do you even have a clue as to how lucky you are right now?” he snapped, causing you to jump ever so slightly. “Your dad’s restaurant is doing so well now. We’ve got a good thing going, don’t we?” He looked at you expectantly. “Don’t we?”

You nodded and chewed the inside of your cheek to keep from yelling at him or crying. You were lucky. You knew that. All of this was fake so why was this so important to you?

“We’ve been dating for a month,” he continued. “Don’t you think it’s time we moved things to the next level?”

There it was. You’d managed to hold him off for two weeks now whenever his hand started to slide up your skirt or his lips wandered below your collarbone, but he was impatient now. He couldn’t wait any longer, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stall him for much longer. He wanted sex, and he wanted it soon. The only problem was you were a virgin. Everything else in this performance of a relationship wasn’t a big deal to you. It wasn’t as if he was your first kiss or your first makeout session. Those two belonged to someone you cared about, one of the two people you inherently trusted with your body. That’s why you didn’t really care about kissing him or letting him get a little hot and heavy when his dad was away. But this... this was the one thing you couldn’t allow to be fake. Everything in your life right now seemed to be simple transactions, and you wouldn’t let this be one of those.

“Rafe,” you started in a quiet voice, having learned the hard way what happened when he perceived you as getting confrontational with him, “I know I’m incredibly lucky to be in a relationship with you, and I do think we’re ready to...” a shiver ran down your spine, “to take things to the next level.”

A grin grew on your face, one that made you nauseous and cold. Your heart leapt into your throat when he leaned close to you, dragging his tongue up your neck and placing his too warm hand on your thigh again. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want your first time to be fake. You ducked out of his hold and stood up, curling into yourself as you tried to push down these feelings of disgust and unease. Rafe groaned and looked up at you as he leaned back on his bed.

“I thought we were finally getting past this. Do you even want to be in this relationship?”

“Yes,” you lied. “I just... I wasn’t prepared for anything tonight. I want to look good for you when we finally do it.” You swallowed the bile trying to make its way up your throat.

“Really? You’re not just trying to get out of this again? I won’t keep waiting for you.”

“I’m not. I promise.”

“So then when?”

“This weekend. I’ll be ready this weekend.”

“You better be.”

He got up and towered over you, grabbing your arm in a vice like grip. You bit back a whimper. You wouldn’t let him see how much you detested him. He brought his face down to yours and stared right into your eye.

“I won’t wait for long,” he promised you. “I’m not going to be very happy if you give me another excuse this weekend.”

“I know,” you squeaked out.

He released you and sat back on his bed. “Then I’ll see you this weekend, kitten.”

You quickly grabbed your bag and scurried out of his room, offering him a smile that will never quite feel real, and ran down the stairs. You texted JJ to meet you at your house with some booze as you started the long walk from the Camerons to your place. You didn’t want to call your brothers to pick you up, not when you looked like this. You felt like there was a layer of grime coating your skin, and you couldn’t wait to scrub it all off when you finally got home. You wanted to curl up under the scalding hot water in your shower and cry all your emotions out. The disgust settled deep in your bones was not a new sensation; in fact you were more than used to its constant presence since getting with Rafe Cameron. Disgust for him, disgust for Figure 8, but mostly just disgust for yourself. For submitting to this farce of a relationship. Was this how things worked on Figure 8? Just surrender yourself to fake love for the rest of your life? Perhaps that was fine. Maybe you could live with your disgust. If you could just have one last real thing.

Thankfully your parents seemed to be out and your brothers seemed to be busy when you got home. You didn’t have to deal with faking smiles on your way to your room. Your limbs seemed to weigh you down as you dragged yourself down the hall. You didn’t even feel right in your own body anymore. Was it even yours? Or was it Rafe’s? No, not yet. You wouldn’t allow him that. You opened your door to see your window open and JJ lounging on your bed. The fading sunlight bathed him in a pink light, and his blonde hair seemed to glow like a halo. An angel. Your angel. He looked up when you entered and smiled, only for his bright expression to slip off when he saw the unshed tears in your tired eyes. He immediately rolled off your bed and approached you, his hands reaching out to comfort you.

You felt bad as soon as you did it, but you couldn’t help but flinch back from his touch as you whispered, “Wait. Let me just... let me wash these feelings off first. And then I’m gonna need a hug.”

He nodded and laid down on the bed as you grabbed some clothes from the dresser, always keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t break down then and there. He knew what it was like, flinching from touch, even the gentle touch from someone who loved you, because all you could think of in that moment was the touch from the person who had hurt you. He wasn’t sure, but he was almost positive he knew where you had just come from. Why else would you be so gussied up in your dress with your makeup done up like that? You had to be coming from your boyfriend’s place. White hot anger filled his veins at the thought of Rafe Cameron laying a single finger on you. JJ and John B had almost torn the whole Chateau down when you had first told the Pogues who you were dating. They couldn’t fathom it. Their sweet, gentle y/n with that scumbag? But you always had a smile on your face whenever they saw you with Rafe, so why would they interfere with your happiness? Now JJ wasn’t so sure, not with how you reacted to him. Should he tell John B? Have him come over? He didn’t think it was a good idea to overwhelm you, so he just texted John B saying he would be coming over later. It hurt him keeping this from his best friend, someone he loved with his whole being, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good. John B would just get upset and probably try to force you to break up with Rafe, and JJ would take advantage of your fight to go over and try to beat the shit out of Rafe, and then you would be left here crying all alone, abandoned by your best friends.

“Hey,” you whispered as you finally exited the bathroom.

JJ looked up to see you loitering by the door in your fluffy white rob, your fingers playing with the wet strands of your hair as if you were shy. He sat up against the headboard of your bed and lifted his arms, beckoning you to curl up beside him. You crawled onto the bed and let him wrap his arms around you. Let him envelop you in warmth and love that felt so real that you could almost forget about what had happened.

“JJ.”

“Mhm?”

“Have you... have you ever had sex before?”

You could feel every muscle in his body tense and freeze, and you heard his heart beneath your ear begin to race. That answered your question before he could even utter a single word.

“I haven’t either,” you told him although you were sure he already knew. You could feel him let out a puff of air from his lungs. “Would you like to? With me?”

“Would I what?” he asked with a loud crack in his voice.

You carefully slipped from his embrace so that you could look at him properly. This was what you wanted, and you needed to see if it was what he wanted too. You couldn’t have your first time to be fake, and what could be realer than your best friend?

“JJ, do you want to have sex with me?”

“Why are you-- you have a boyfriend. A super rich Kook boyfriend! Doesn’t he want to have sex with you?”

“I don’t...” your voice lowered to a whisper that he had to strain to hear. “I don’t want it to be fake. Everything else in my life, in relationship right now is fake. I can’t let this be fake too. I need it to be real.”

He looked at you, like really looked at you and felt his heart break. He could see it now, how unloved you felt. You were supposed to have everything now that you were dating the Kook prince, but you didn’t. You didn’t have anything. He knew what that felt like. He lifted a hand to cup your cheek.

“Why me? Why not John B?” he asked quietly.

“John B... he was my first kiss. From when we were thirteen and everything was real and love seemed like a possibility. I don’t want him to see me for what I am. Alone. Unloved. Despicable. He can’t see that, not now with everything he’s going through. But you... I know you understand. That’s horrible to say, but I know you know this feeling inside me. It wouldn’t be as real with John B right now because I’d be hiding this from him, and I need it to be real, for someone to see all of it.”

He nodded and brought your face close to his, brushed his nose against the bridge of yours. Your breaths mingled together. He breathed in the self loathing you breathed out. You breathed in the smoldering sadness he breathed out. You were one and nothing had even happened.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your lips. “Let’s be each other’s firsts.”

His pupils were blown wide open as he watched you pull back and slide the robe off your shoulders. He was mesmerized by each centimeter of skin that was revealed. He could hear the breath catch in your throat when he brought his hands to your bare skin to drag the robe farther down your body. Every part of you was beautiful. Every freckle and stretch mark was gorgeous, and warmth swelled deep within your gut when you noticed how hard he was getting. This was real. No calculated smiles or faked looks of attraction. You didn’t need to push down any nausea or feelings of disgust. You felt real, genuine love in this moment. JJ let out a groan when you slid your hand to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his golden tresses and pulled his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You could get drunk off the feeling of his lips against yours, the way his tongue licked its way into your mouth. Finally the robe pooled around your hips, and JJ’s hands moved to untie it to get it off your body and throw it to the floor. A breathless laugh escaped you when he lifted you so you were straddling his lap.

“You’re gorgeous,” he panted out, moaning as you ground your hips down onto his crotch.

“And you have entirely too much clothing on.”

He pulled back just enough to let you rip off his shirt before his lips were attaching themselves to your neck, his sharp teeth grazing at the sensitive skin it found there. Your soft whimpers filled the room, and you felt him twitch beneath you when you tugged at his hair. God you hoped your brothers were on the other side of the house playing Call of Duty or whatever. You prayed they didn’t hear what was happening because you never wanted this feeling to go away. You hadn’t felt this buzzed in a long time. It was addicting, this electricity between you and JJ, better than any high you’d gotten from his cousin’s dope. JJ’s hands found your hips, and matching moans left the two of you as he brought your center over his still clothed crotch again and again.

“Fuck,” his voice sounded strained as he panted in your ear.

“I need you,” you whined, tugging at his shorts in vain. “JJ, I really fucking need you right now.”

He wasted no time in rolling you over so he was hovering above your sprawled out form. Your bare body, parted lips, and hooded eyes painted a pretty picture, and he hurried to kick his shorts and boxers off of him where they joined his shirt and your robe on the floor. One of his hands traced its way down your body, leaving goosebumps in its featherlight wake, and drifted ever lower. From there on you felt as if you were in a haze, reaching newer highs with every movement of JJ’s body against yours. Everything else in the world, every sound, every memory, every sensation was replaced with JJ’s lips and his hands and the promises he whispered into your hair. The way his body pressed against yours so there was no space between you anymore, just two souls in one vessel, would forever be etched into your very being. You felt like you were floating, separated from everything else, but everything also felt so much realer than anything else as of late. You reached the peak, where everything was so much and you let go; you thought maybe you’d heard JJ breathe something into the crook of your neck as he came after you, but you were so far gone, you couldn’t focus on anything except the way he was making you feel.

The both of you laid there trying to catch your breath afterward, JJ bringing the covers up over your shaking body. You rolled onto your side and studied him, the way his chest rose and fell with the effort of his pants, the way his blonde hair stuck to his forehead, the way his bare shoulders glistened with sweat. He was gorgeous, absolutely stunning. He turned his head to return your gaze, his ocean blue eyes seeming to pierce your soul. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt his fingers tangle with yous, and then he brought your hand to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“Whatever you have with Rafe,” he whispered, “it may not be real, but I am. I will always be real. John B will always be real. You know you can show everything to me, even the part that feels unloved, but you can show it to him. We’ve always been real. The three of us. And we always will, promise.

#outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx #obx netflix #obx imagine #obx x reader

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reddeadmort · 5 years

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Arthur Morgan X Reader |Outlaws, all of them| Part 1

My first ever fan-fiction, I enjoyed writing it, I hope you enjoy reading it! Definitely get more to come, at least 1 more part I reckon, who knows maybe more.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, swearing (in line with the game), minor fluff towards the end. Next part will def have much more fluff, some angst and probably a bit of smut in there too.... Summary: You’ve barely escaped from Valentine, and you’re looking for a bit of cash so you can lay low for a while, when you see a lone cowboy....

Words: 2.3k “Well…shit.”

Your mother, and half the people you’d ever met, always told you that swearing wasn’t ladylike. But right now, sat on your large war horse, looking out over the plains of the Heartlands, you could not give a damn. Sighing, you took stock of what had happened over the previous couple of days. You’d always been so careful; but somewhere, sometime, you must have become complacent. You weren’t even aware there was a bounty on your head; not until that group of half-cut bounty hunters strolled into the Valentine Saloon. You’d been in Valentine a few days, scoping out a new target; you were sure there was something untoward going on in the Doctor’s back office, but hadn’t yet had an opportunity to pick the lock and see what you could find. You had treated yourself to a hotel room; thanks to a nice quick raid at that ranch near Heartland Overflow, you had a whole pile of jewellery and buckles burning a hole in your pocket and the hotel owner was plenty happy to take a ring or two off your hands. You’ll have to go back to that ranch again, you thought; that strange man and his family sure had a lot of valuables lying around for ranchers. You enjoyed this saloon; the whiskey was cheap, entertainment in the form of fights was plentiful, and the men, on the most part, left you alone. The ones that didn’t sure as hell did after they felt your knife pressed against the front of their trousers. You had been camped at the far end of the bar when the bounty hunters strolled in, asking if anyone had seen (Y/N). You froze, and locked eyes with the bartender; he was the only person in there you’d said your name to, a mistake you won’t be making again. But he owed you, after you’d knocked that mad as hell drunk out with a well-timed chair leg. As one of the bounty hunters leaned on the bar, facing away from you, you’d called the bartender over with a wave, and whispered to him as you passed him 10 dollars… you’d hoped it would be enough for him to go along with it. He’d taken the money, poured a drink, and set the glass down in front of that over-powdered tart at the other end of the bar, saying how that nice gentleman (pointing at the bounty hunter) had bought it for her. Her companion had taken offence to this, and as all hell broke lose you had slipped out the back of the saloon. Quietly moving up the side of the saloon, you’d hoped to get across to your horse without being seen – no such luck. As you’d run across the road, the bounty hunters and bruised bartender had come flying through the saloon doors, the bartender screaming and pointing at you. With an adept jump on to the hitching post (you really needed to get a shorter horse, dammit) you’d swung yourself into the saddle and pounded away from that damn town. As you were riding away, you swore as you realised your latest haul was still in that damn hotel room. You hadn’t had a chance to stash it in your usual place yet, and ever since that incident in Rhodes you didn’t dare leave more than a hat on your horse. Damn thing never looked twice at who was rifling through his saddlebags; for such a large horse he sure was soft. You were going to have to get some money, and fast. You had your pistol, rifle and your trusty knives, but only enough provisions for a couple of days at best, and that O Driscoll gang had set up camp too close to comfort to your stash. You knew they wouldn’t find it, but you sure as hell didn’t want them finding you. As you looked over the plains, you thought about hunting a few deer; if you could find that trapper again, he’d give you something for what you could get off them, and you’d at least have a few days of meat before it went bad. But then you spotted campfire smoke, not that far off; looking through your binoculars, you saw the lone man and his horse. Now this was a much easier option, and if you were careful, wouldn’t require any bloodshed. You gently kicked your horse, pushing him into a trot as you slowly rode towards the smoke. ------ Arthur laid back, looking at the stars above him. He wasn’t too far from the camp, but the incessant arguing between Dutch and Molly, Abigail and John, and Micah’s presence had forced him to find somewhere peaceful to stay, just for one night. It had been a successful trip out to Strawberry; he’d got a decent amount for that Bounty collar, and had picked up a few good pelts and provisions on the way home. For once, he was feeling quite pleased with himself; checking the chimney of that abandoned shack had given him a rather nice new shotgun too. He was about to drift off when he heard a crack from in the trees behind him….. ------- You got off your horse a little way from the small camp, not hitching him in case a fast getaway was required, and slowly crept over through the trees. You were good at staying out of sight, adept at staying silently; thank god your useless father had at least taken you out hunting sometimes. When you were close enough to see the lone stranger you stopped; it looked like he wasn’t quite asleep yet, you would have to wait a while longer. Suddenly, a loud *crack* not 4 metres to your left made you tense and rest your hands on your throwing knives. -------- As soon as he heard the noise, Arthur’s hand snapped to his pistol, but as he gripped the handle the unmistakable double barrels of a shotgun came into view, directly above his head. “Well well well boys, look who we have here……..Mr Morgan” --------- You recognised that voice; you’d made the mistake of attempting to rob an O’Driscoll camp a few months prior. You’d barely escaped from this bastard, and only because he’d underestimated you; a mistaken given he was the only one of five you hadn’t managed to kill. You thought about sneaking away, leaving this poor lone man to his fate; but then you thought about the way this man had beat you, and the threats he’d made; you could swear you still felt the bruises around your neck. There was only 3 of them…. and O’Driscolls often had a decent bit of cash on them. You quietly slunk round to the back of the man furthest from the fire; he was leaning against a tree, enjoying the spectacle in front of him. -------- The kick to the head, although expected, hurt Arthur like hell. As he turned over, another blow to the stomach made him gasp; he forced himself to his knees, only to be pistol whipped across the face. As his head hit the ground, the three O’Driscolls laughing and excitedly chattering about their find, he swore he saw a movement in the bushes…. ------ The other two O’Driscolls were too engrossed in kicking the living shit out of the stranger to notice you stand up behind the third man, silently sliding your hunting knife up between his ribs and into his heart. He gurgled as you lowered him to the ground – not as quiet as you’d like, because he was a damn heavy bastard. “What was that?” the second O’Driscoll said to the leader. Pressing the barrel of his pistol into the strangers throat, too enthralled in his task to look up, the leader snapped back to his man. “Ah Connor’s probably just gone for a piss, stop yer whining”. With your back to the tree, you glanced round to get a good look at the two remaining men; you were going to have to take both of this men out in quick succession if you weren’t going to get yourself killed. Normally, you’d have gone straight for your pistol, but you’d been stupid and neglected to clean it for weeks, and when you’d shot it escaping from the bounty hunters it had misfired and nearly taken your damn hand off. It would have to be the knives. ----- Arthur stared up at the bastard O’Driscoll, barely able to see through the blood pouring from his forehead. What the hell were this lot doing here? Dutch had been so sure they weren’t south of Valentine. He cursed himself for being so stupid as to be caught, by so few men as well. He was getting old, and getting dumber. Wait; there, again, definitely movement in the trees. He strained to see, ignoring the shit pouring from this mouthy bastard with the pistol. ----- Well, now or never you thought. In one swift movement, you swung round the tree, launching the knife at the neck of the O’Driscoll with the shotgun. It hit perfectly, and he crashed to the ground. But it hadn’t even hit its mark before the second knife was in your hand, and you were drawing back to launch it into the face of the lead bastard. As you let go, you felt a searing hot pain in your hip; it knocked you to the ground, as you watched your knife sail past the O’Driscoll’s head. Before you even had a chance to grab another, you heard another shot ring out; you froze, waiting for the pain, but the only thing you felt was a dull thumping in your hip. You looked up to see the stranger on his feet, gun in hand, running towards you. You scrambled to your feet, adrenaline ready to run you back to your horse, but before you managed to launch yourself forwards, a large hand grabbed you by the shoulder and spun you around. “You alright?” The stranger holstered his weapon, keeping a firm grip on your shoulder, staring intently at your face. He looked awful; you could barely see his features through the blood. And as you stood there, you realised quite how much larger he was than you…. “Woman, are you alright?” Fighting down your fight or flight urge, you finally answered him. “I think so. I’ve been hit near my hip, but it doesn’t hurt that bad so it’s probably just a graze.” “Now why’d you go do a foolish thing like that for, actin’ like a fool and risking your neck for me?” As you stared at him, his gaze softened; you hadn’t realised how angry he’d looked before. “I’ve been at the receiving end of that bastard’s hate before, and I couldn’t let it happen to someone else” you calmly answered, surprised at the steadiness of your tone. “Well, we better get out of here quickly before more of ‘em shows up” “Don’t I get to know the name of the man I just saved from certain death?” The question surprised both of you; you don’t even know why you asked, you were sure you’d neither want or need to ever see this man again. “Well ma’am, I suppose ya do. I’m Arthur Morgan”. “Pleased to meet you Arthur Morgan, I’m (Y/N). Now lets get the hell out of here.” Arthur turned to grab his satchel and a small leather bound journal; you started off towards your horse, but hadn’t gone two steps before a white-hot pain in your hip sent you hurtling to the ground. Shit. “Dammit (Y/N), that’s more than a scratch.” Arthur was already at your side, examining your hip. It slowly dawned on you quite how much it was hurting; you forced yourself to look down, but Arthur was already clamping fabric to your wound. “Where’s your damn horse, we��ve got to get you to someone”. You concentrated and whistled, and were relieved to hear steady hoofbeats approaching. “That’s your horse? Ya ain’t going to be able to ride that beast in your state.” Arthur whistled over his mare and lifted you to your feet. He quickly tied your horse to his saddle while you leaned against his white mare. She was gorgeous; maybe an Arabian? You did your best to focus on her mane, struggling to keep your eyes open. “Stay with me, (Y/N)”. Arthur quickly climbed on to his horse and lifted you up in front of him with a brief grunt. “My main camp isn’t far from here, they’ll help get you fixed up.” As he spoke, he kicked his horse forward and set off at an uncomfortably quick pace northward. Every gallop sent pain through your hip, and you clung on to the saddle for dear life. It was taking all of your concentration, you could barely keep your eyes open; you felt yourself start to slide to your right. Suddenly, a large, muscular arm was wrapped around your waist, as Arthur pinned you to his chest. In the distance, you heard him say “Easy there girl, I’ve got you” as you slowly slipped into darkness. ----- Arthur’s bruised bones were screaming at him as he forced the horse onwards. What the hell just happened? The girl came out of nowhere. But he knew that if she hadn’t, he would either be dead or slung over the back of an O’Driscolls horse on his way to a worse fate. As he held the woman tight to his chest, his only thought was that he had to keep her safe.

#red dead fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #reddead2 #arthur morgan love #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan imagine #fanfic #fic #original #rdr2

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bnrnont · 6 years

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name: edward kenneth grey nicknames: kenny sometimes , mostly grey age: twenty four sexuality: pansexual / romantic pronouns: he / him occupation: bartender sign: sagitarrius pinterest: HERE spotify: HERE

hey hey hey i’m snottie and i just happened to scroll passed this group in the tag , but i couldn’t be happier. i have the perfect muse for this place and i hope you all like him as much as i do. i have yet to really get a chance to play him , but i’m that 70s show trash and i love steven hyde ( even tho danny sucks butts ) but yeah so if you want to plot or do anything involving that 70s show or my knock off lil burnout of my own then definitely slide in them dms

( MATTY HEALY / CIS MALE ) did you catch edward kenneth grey the other day? as always, he was being his usual humble & eccentric self, despite being twenty four years old. i wonder if they’re still a bartender at the tangerine around here. it’s nothing but half smoked joints, glass ash trays overflowing with cigarette butts, fast food wrappers, crushed beer cans, messy brunette curls , and band t-shirts when it comes to them, isn’t it?

born november 28th , 1954 the illegitimate son to a negligent mother and some random guy , he lived with his mother until he was a teenager when he was fostered by a close friend’s family ( yeah yeah i know i’m not creative but i also do not deny that kenny is heavily inspired by steven hyde )

his mother was an addict and he basically raised himself for the most part bc she was always running the roads looking for her next fix , she was a stripper but they still lived in a shitty house without heat or a/c and like everything was always broken and it was just never clean

basically he was really embarrassed by it and he was dirty a lot , just a real mess of a kid who had extreme anger issues and problems with authority but luckily he found friends who were the only reason he got by tbh

yeahhhhhhhh so he was abandoned by his mom one day when he was in hs after she deemed him ‘old enough’ to take care of himself but one of his best friend’s parents wouldn’t stand for it and took him in not long after finding out he was on his own

it took a while but he warmed to them soon enough and considered them family , even respected them , and lived there until he was twenty

he eventually was able to move out and found work as a radio show personality that did fairly decent and he was able to uphold the lifestyle of drinking , drugs , and partying that he so enjoyed for quite a while

he to this day is v suspicious of the government and authority , hates cops , and any organizations , BELIEVES STRONGLY IN ALIENS

grey was comparatively less intelligent in earlier years and more “street smart”. however , gray does falls into the archetype of the intelligent “ tough guy ” just like hyde.

his intelligence is often undermined by his refusal to apply himself, but he is one of the smarter members , if not the smartest member , of his group of friends (wc).

he has a witty, blunt, and sarcastic sense of humor. he does not take things seriously , but the compassion , gratitude and love he has for those around him can be evident.

regarding serious matters , he shows compassion and empathy and gives very good advice. he has a sense of propriety and responsibility yet is not proud of it as he is more accustomed to his party / stoner lifestyle.

he pretends not care for anyone around him and sometimes he really would much rather spend his time alone.

enjoys cooking and exercising actually ? smokes a lot of weed and cigarettes ? drinks a lot of beer and wine and whiskey ? highkey a conspiracy theorist !

though he may seem sarcastic and careless , as well as manipulative at times , there is a more mellow side of him.

he called/calls adults by their first name ( which the practice of naming parents and other adults was considered taboo in the 1970s ) especially when addressing one directly.

he does drive a black 1967 chevy el camino bc i say so gdi , wears a lot of sunglasses , a lot of ripped denim , lots of band t-shirts including but not limited to: santana , judas priest , eric clapton , AC/DC , KISS , led zeppelin , jimmy page , lynyrd skynyrd , pink floyd , the beatles , black sabbath , jethro tull , jimi hendrix , the doors , the rolling stones , ted nugent , rush , aerosmith , john lee hooker , the allman brothers band , blue oyster cult , sex pistols , ramones , the who , and the grateful dead.

his guilty pleasure is frank sinatra and other motown music , he also doesn’t mind country music , but he’d probably never admit it bc ‘long live rock and roll man’

along with many bands grey holds a passionate love of led zeppelin , the group he wears most frequently and would totally have said “ if god didn’t want me to wear them so much he wouldn’t have made them rock so hard ”.

he likes to watch little house on the prairie , and dislikes the music of pat boone , styx , ABBA , peter frampton , andy gibb , and the little river band. in fact , he once broke up with a girl because she liked the little river band.

he wears his class ring on his pinkie and is super proud of himself for graduating at all bc he hated school and honestly they probably just passed him so they didn’t have to deal with him anymore , he probably failed a grade a time or two who knows. lol was def voted most likely to commit a crime or end up in jail ( they were right )

he knows how to operate a manual transmission , really loves cars thank you v much and is super proud of his ! !

( tw: drug mention ) it is no secret that he is a junkie , but his first choices are always marijuana and alcohol even though he will most likely partake in anything offered his way tbh

he has a job as a bartender at the tangerine rn bc surprise he got into a lot of shit for being fucked up all the time so bye bye radio show personality so he just needed a job to get by. he could probs use a roommate or something idk so hmu to do that

this was a mess and absolutely all over the place and i’m sorry ? he’s basically just steven hyde and i’d love to build a bunch of relationships like from that 70s show bc i’m a stan that has seen it beginning to end more than once so….. honestly i could make this so much longer but i won’t hmu to do stuff i have discord or you can just im !

#dczedintro #❛ ʰᵉ ᶫᶦᵛᵉᵈ ʰᶦˢ ᶫᶦᶠᵉ ᶫᶦᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᶫᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏᵉᵗ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ᶠᵘˢᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃᶫᶫ ❜ about.

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authoressskr · 7 years

Text

Twice Marked

Pairing: Reader x Dean OR Sam (Future)

Characters: Reader (Y/N Washington), Myka Washington (Reader’s Twin/OFC), John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Tami Washington (Reader's Mother/OFC), Mentions of Pastor Jim, Bobby Singer and Mary Winchester

Soulmate AU (Part One)

The reader has both soulmate marks - good luck finding which Winchester is yours.

Note: Do NOT repost, copy and paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION. -+- REBLOGGING is fine! -+-

Myka Washington was born October 28th, 1989 on a moonless, rainy night. As she let out her first cries, the nurse dutifully cleaned the newborn as her mother worked to bring her twin into the world. And three minutes later, Y/N came crying as the nurse frowned down at Myka. She had no soulmate mark. She pursed her full lips, checking the newborn over again. The training nurse, filling out the paperwork beside her, looks from the baby to Nurse Dale.

“What is it, Dale?”

“This baby has no soulmate marking.” You could have heard a pin drop as another nurse, Kelsie, set the second born down beside her sister. The twins press right against each other as all the adults share a look.

“Check her again.” The doctor insists, joining the nurses to look at the twins.

“I think I found it,” Kelsie announced, her voice soft but strained. She moved the younger twin’s left arm, revealing a soulmate mark then pulled the tiny diaper down to reveal yet another on her hip.

“What is it?” Their mother called out breathlessly, concern and worry apparent in her chocolate brown eyes.

“It appears, uh, that your youngest daughter has both her and her sister’s soulmate markings.”

The silence returned, a thickness that swallowed the adults and passed unnoticed by the two babies, pressed tight against each other.

---

They were six when they met John, Dean and Sam Winchester. Dean was sixteen, Sam just twelve. Their mother offered to watch the boys in repayment for John fixing things around her house that she couldn’t and for fixing the timing belt on her little Hyundai. Dean hovered near Sam like a shadow for nearly an hour before relaxing a little as a movie was put on, Sam watched as the twins hummed along with the first song. He had homework he had been working on, Dean finishing his own in record time before making small talk with the girl’s mother, Tami. Sam’s shaggy head had tilted to the right ever so slightly, watching one color, the other holding tightly to her blue crayon as she stood in front of the television and watched Pocahontas paddle down the river. Her little voice held such conviction as she sang, even Dean leaned closer to watch the little girl.

“She loves Pocahontas. Although Belle is her favorite. Asked if I could find her a teacher so she could learn Indian.” Their mother chuckled before setting down a plate of fried chicken between Sam and Dean. “The girls already ate. Help yourselves.” The boys ate in silence, watching the two little girls before Sam returned to his homework.

Dean watched as the one with the crayon sniffled, rubbing her left hand over and under her nose as Pocahontas left John Smith as a prisoner.

“How do you tell them apart?” Dean asked, collecting his and Sam’s plates before Tami took them from his hand, jerking her head to let him resume his seat.

“Right now? Their eyes. Myka’s are a darker blue, but Y/N are lightening up.”

“Ever get them mixed up?”

“There is zero chance of that,” Tami answered sadly and Dean knew not to press.

“How? They’re identical. I’d be afraid of mixing them up.” Sam pressed, not looking at Dean’s slight head movement.

“Their soulmate marks are different.”

“Oh,” Sam answered lamely, bending his head to finish his science homework and to hide the blush that rose up on his cheeks.

“It’s alright, Sam. I’ve been asked tons of questions about them since they were born.” She was about to continue when the one that had been holding the blue crayon wandered into the small dining area, gently tugging at her little purple shirt, staring at the ground. “Yes, Y/N?” Her little eyes flitted over to Sam and Dean, blushed and tugged at her mother’s shirt. She bent down, letting her whisper what she wanted before quickly scurrying from the room. Tami tried to keep a straight face but once Sam looked at her, she couldn’t help it. A bubble of laughter rushed out of her as she finally set the plates in the sink. “Y/N wanted to know if you two were princes.”

“Why’d she ask that?” Dean asked, bewildered, forehead wrinkling slightly.

"Because you two are so pretty." Tami managed to get out before another short bout of laughter.

"Mommy." Sam and Dean's head snapped to the little girl, holding a coloring page up for her mother to view. Tami dried her hands quickly, taking the paper.

"Very lovely. You stayed in the lines so well!" The little girl walked calmly back over to the coffee table and returned, sliding the page onto the table where Sam and Dean sat - Sam closing his science book before peering down at the page.

"That's very nice." Sam complimented, pushing it closer to Dean.

"Uh, yeah, nice." Dean agreed, handing the paper back to the child.

"No. It's for you two." She points to the green triceratops. "This one is Sam." She points to a red one. "This is your daddy." And this one," Her tiny finger points to the last triceratops, done in blue, "Is you, Dean." Dean looked from the paper to the other little girl who was now holding tightly to a brown bear with a little red bowtie as she worked to put a different VHS into the VCR.

"Thank you, Y/N." He called out to her, smiling. Y/N dropped the VHS and then her gaze. He half turned around when he heard a soft "You're welcome" called out. "And thank you Myka for delivering this to us."

"You're welcome." Myka beamed at the brothers before retreating to the living room and her twin.

It's nearly two hours later, all of them gathered in the living room, Sam watching National Geographic as Dean flips through a car magazine when Y/N turns in the seat beside her mother before raising up on her knees and whispering. Myka peeks around her sister, curious.

"Can the girls listen to some music before bed?" Sam snapped the tv off immediately.

"Of course." Sam and Dean answer in tandem.

"You boys like Def Leppard?" Tami asked with a knowing smile as Y/N scrambled down and easily located the cassette, handing it eagerly to her mother before her sister leaned over and made a face.

"Y/N, not that one." She tried to tug the cassette from her sister's hand.

"Now, Myka, your sister asked. This is what she wants." Dean is struck suddenly by the fact this six-year-old little girl wants to listen to Def Leppard. But Myka doesn't relent, still tugging at the cassette. Dean stands up, peering down at the pair and the box Y/N clung to.

"I like that one too." Her little head tilts back to look at him, showing him a wide smile with lots of little pearly teeth showing.

"I don't!" Myka snaps before shoving her little sister. Dean snatched Y/N before her little butt touched the floor, cradling her against his chest, out of reach of her sister. Tami swatted Myka's hand sharply and pointed to the bedroom.

"You go to bed early." Myka shot both Dean and her sister a look before she trudged down the hall and into her bedroom. Y/N had tears spilling out of her eyes and Tami was about to reach for her daughter when Dean gently took the cassette from her and held it out.

"Let's listen to some Def Leppard, huh?" He sat back down, settled Y/N besides him on the loveseat with Sam sitting on the floor just in front of her. "What's your favorite?" Dean asks as the first song, Rock! Rock! (Til You Drop), began.

"The I want rock and roll one. And the picture one." Sam rolled his eyes. Of course, they'd find a kid who liked Def Leppard.

"I like those ones too." Tami resumed her seat, happy her daughter finally spoke to Dean.

"Myka wanted to listen to the Beatles." Y/N said softly, playing with her fingers.

"You don't like the Beatles?"

"She just wants to listen to Pepper."

"That's a good song."

"Lucy is better. Help is better. My favorite is All You Need is Love. And Jude!"

"Hey, Jude is my favorite Beatles song," Dean answered honestly, watching those blue eyes light up at his reply. Sam looked at his brother, watching the exchange. Dean was never that honest with strangers, especially with people whom they'd only met a week ago. But Dean was a great big brother.

"Will you walk us to school tomorrow? You walk Sam."

"Oh honey, I'll walk you. No need to bother Dean." Dean watched Y/N's face fall slightly before she smiled at her mother.

"Okay." Dean knew that face. He'd worn that mask more than a few times himself, and he knew that Sam wore it often now.

"It's no trouble, Miss Washington," Dean assured as Y/N looked cautiously hopeful toward her mother. "I'm already walking Sam."

Sam moved to flip the cassette in the radio to Side B. Tami made a face at Dean.

"You don't have to."

"Naw, now that she's talking to me I need to find out what else my girl listens to." Dean does that dazzling smile that every girl in his class is already head over heels for. "I promise to look after her just like I do Sammy." He swore and at his serious expression, Tami relented.

"Alright. If you and Myka don't listen to everything Dean says, this'll never happen again, understand?" Y/N nodded enthusiastically before she shot off the loveseat, grabbed two books and settled back beside Dean.

"Can I read to you, Dean?" Dean nodded - watched as her little fingers turned the first few pages before she began. Not even halfway through she nodded off, her little head resting against Dean's ribs.

"She never takes to people this quick. Let alone men." Tami moved to pick up Y/N, but a knock came at the door. She changed directions and opened the front door to reveal John Winchester.

"Boys behave?" He asked softly, watched as Dean picked up one of the twins and disappeared down the hall. Sam gathered their backpacks and waited at the door beside his father.

"Of course. They are very courteous and the girls really took a shine to them."

"Good. Good." Dean reappeared, holding his hand out to shake Tami's as he halted at the door.

"I'll be here at 7:45 to walk the girls to school, ma'am."

"Come at 7:30 and have breakfast." John nodded at her words, giving a soft smile.

"Glad the boys weren't trouble and are looking after your girls. We'll see you tomorrow then."

"Goodnight Winchesters."

---

The next week had followed in a different routine than neither Dean or Sam had ever been used to. They left the motel at 7:15, walked to Tami's then they'd have breakfast with them, Myka bouncy and eager while Y/N was quiet, observing the goings on. They'd leave the house at 7:45, Y/N latching onto Dean's hand with her right and Sam's with her left, while Myka had her hand in Sam's, but would hold onto his jacket or backpack if she got distracted.

That morning, however, Y/N was acting off. She had just picked at her breakfast, asking for her long hair to be put into a ponytail and had bitten off several of her little fingernails waiting for them to leave.

"You okay, Y/N?" Her little grip is tighter than usual.

"She didn't sleep good. She had bad dreams. Said men with pointy teeth were coming to hurt you and Sam." Dean froze at Myka's words, shot a look to Sam before he dropped to one knee in front of Y/N. He gave her the same reassuring smile he'd always delivered to Sam over the years.

"Hey." She made no move to look at him. "Hey." He tipped her chin up with his forefinger, watched as those light blue eyes met his. "You know I'm not gonna let some guys with pointy teeth keep me away from my girl, right?"

"They hurt you. Then they hurt Sam. Then they came and hurt Mommy and Myka and me."

"I'll never let -"

"Dean!" A feminine voice rang out, caused everyone to look at the girl who crossed the street. A girl Sam recognized as Melissa Main, Dean's current squeeze. Dean rose as Melissa came to a bouncing halt. "Aww, I didn't know you had little sisters!"

"They aren't our sisters," Sam answered, watched as Y/N hid behind Dean, John's old leather jacket shielded her mostly from Melissa.

"You are just walking these little girls to school? Just because you can? Dean, that is beyond sweet. And so noble and protective." Her voice had dropped with the last line and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Come on Myka, Y/N, we're gonna be late." Sam tugged gently at Y/N's hand, trying to get her to move and after another tug she relented. "Dean will catch up in a minute." He soothed, flashing Y/N a dimpled smile. She gave a long glance to Dean and Melissa before she fell in step with Sam.

They normally would walk in silence unless Myka or Sam were talking, but once they were out of earshot, Y/N looked at Sam, furrowed her little forehead a few times as her mouth opened and closed.

Then she managed to get it out.

"If Dean likes that girl, can I be your girl Sam?" She asked so softly Sam nearly missed it. Myka peered around Sam to look at her little sister's hopeful expression.

"Of course, Y/N. You can be my girl." Myka frowned at Sam's words.

"Why you want to be Dean and Sam's girl? Boys are gross and mean."

"Sam and Dean aren't!"

"Okay, girls. One more block. No fighting." He slowed as they came to the crosswalk. Still no Dean. While the crossing guard on the other side waited, Sam glanced down at Myka then Y/N. "Myka's right though Y/N." She peered up at him. "Boys are mostly gross." He grinned down at her as she wrinkled her little button nose. The crossing guard walked to the middle of the crosswalk, waved them through and the three continued down the sidewalk. Sam made sure to walk the girls to the gate, Myka rushed through with Y/N about to do the same when Sam called her name. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" Her high ponytail bobbed as she nodded up at him. "Why do you wanna be our girl? Mine or Dean's?"

"You're both nice. You don't have to be nice." She kicked at the grass before meeting his gaze again. "The boys at school aren't, they are always trying to kiss Myka and me. They pull our hair and hit us with Transformers and Power Rangers. But you and Dean let me read to you, you tell me stuff 'bout the stuff you watch on tv - like the ocean and how its real, real deep in the Pacific Ocean. You ask me about my dinosaurs and Dean watches Casper with me when I finish my homework. You both help with our homework and you guys smell good. You share snacks, let us play with your hair since it's longer than Dean's, and tell good stories. You and Dean are like princes in a story, pretty and nice and you watch out for me and Myka." Everything she listed was said so matter-of-factly that it had taken Sam by surprise. Dean jogged up behind as Sam, who'd crouched down to be eye-level with Y/N, stood.

"Sorry, princess." Dean apologized as Y/N tugged on her backpack's straps.

"It's okay." But she didn't look at Dean and he frowned.

"Someth-"

"Head in, we'll see you when school is over." She nodded at Sam, her eyes flitted to Dean before she bounded into the interior yard towards the kindergarten building on the back side of the campus.

"What was that about?" Dean asked as they started to the junior high and high school combo another block and a half away.

"Y/N said you liked Melissa, so she wanted to be my girl," Dean smirked at his little brother before his jaw clenched. "And I asked her why at the gate, she told me it's cause we are nice, share snacks, play with them and help them with homework or explain tv shows to them. And that the boys in kindergarten try to kiss her and Myka or they pull their hair or hit them with toys. So, she'd rather be ours." He paused, tried to gage Dean's mood. "Myka just said boys are mean and gross. Didn't seem too impressed with her sister."

"Don't get attached, Sammy. Dad should be done with the hunt in a few days." Sam turned, jerking his brother's arm as he faced him at Dean's blank tone.

"I get that, Dean. But maybe you shouldn't have volunteered to walk them to school. Maybe we shouldn't have played with them. But we did. It happened. You like them just as much as I do. Don't do that thing."

"What thing?"

"Where you pretend this doesn't bother you. Their mom is nice. Myka and Y/N are nice. When we leave in a few days, it's gonna crush them...especially Y/N."

"She's young enough she'll get over it, Sam." The bell rang loudly, less than a half dozen yards away. "Get to class, bitch." Sam didn't respond, just headed toward his class, leaving Dean to huff out an irritated breath before heading to his own homeroom.

---

Tami's Hyundai was waiting when the girls got out a little after one, Myka tugged at her sister's hand, lead her to where Tami stood at the gate. Tami kissed each of her daughters' heads, taking one of each of their hands in her own.

"Still not feeling great baby?" Tami asked as she led the girls to her car, paused to peer down at her youngest.

"Y/N is upset 'cause Ty kissed her and then she hit him," Myka revealed as she climbed into her seat.

"Y/N!" Tami chided, buckling in Myka as Y/N sat patiently beside her.

"He kissed me, Momma. Said I was his girlfriend now. But I'm not! I'm Sam's girl." Tami pursed her lips, looked from one daughter to another.

"Did you say no? Did you tell the teacher?" She closed the back door then climbed into the driver's seat. "And you don't hit."

"Mommy, you said if we start a fight, finish it." Myka butted in.

"No, that is not what I said! I said if you get into a fight, you finish it. Not start one and finish it. You should be able to defend yourselves. But not to be a bully."

"I wasn't being a bully! He tried at first recess and I told Miss Linda. Myka told teacher too! But then he kissed me after lunch and I didn't want him to kiss me."

"Cause you're Sam's girl?" Tami asked as they pulled from the parking lot, making a mental note to talk to their teacher tomorrow. "When did that start?"

"This mornin'. She was Dean's girl until Dean stayed behind to talk to his girlfriend." Myka's voice was taunting as she said the word "girlfriend".

"Well, honey, Dean is a big boy, and he's gonna like bigger girls. Sam's a big boy too. Both are going to be good looking boys when they get done growing. And you're only six, sweetie. You have a long time before your grown, Y/N. You too Myka." Tami caught her twins make identical faces; wrinkled up little noses and blue eyes rolled.

"I'm Sam's girl." Y/N muttered before sticking her fingers in her mouth again to bite her tiny nails as Myka makes a disgusted noise.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Y/N promptly removes her fingers and shakes her head, shifting her gaze to look out the window.

"Nothing." Both girls answer in tandem, and the rest of the drive home is filled only with the sounds of the local country station.

---

That evening, when the boys arrive, neither twin is anywhere to be seen.

"They're playing in their room." Tami filled them in. "I made you guys a snack, it's on the table. Start on your homework, please. And Dean? Don't forget to do your algebra homework, your father mentioned that this morning." Dean grumbled but obediently pulled out his algebra homework.

Ten minutes later, Dean is biting the end of his pencil, staring at his last algebra problem when he felt little eyes on him.

Peering from the hallway was Y/N, Myka just behind her smoothing a hand over her sister's locks. She looked from where he sat to the front door before little tears fell from her eyes. Y/N quickly wiped them away and entered the room timidly.

"Hello, Sam. Hello, Dean." Dean tried unsuccessfully to hide the frown that appeared. She always told him hello first. He forced a smile onto his lips, calling out his own hello as she climbed into the seat next to Sam. He shouldn't be so bothered by this switching of affection, but it tugged at something deep inside his chest. Twisted it tight in his gut as those little blue eyes looked up at Sam instead of himself. That's when the thought first pricked at the back of his mind. What if she's my soulmate? Or, God he hated himself for this thought, worse - Sam's?

There was a loud thump somewhere outside the front windows, making both girls jump as Sam and Dean rose in tandem, giving each other a slight nod before easing closer to the darkening autumn light of the front picture windows. Tami walked carefully to the front door, opening it a sliver.

"Can I help you?"

"He sent me to pick up his sons. Send them out." His voice was gruff, and not one either boy recognized. John would only leave them in Bobby or Pastor Jim's care. He would never send someone they didn't know - wouldn't entrust Mary's sons' safety to a stranger.

"Don't let him in." Dean countered as he moved beside Tami, looking at the man who was not much taller than Tami, maybe hitting 5'7". Dean's keen eye picked up on the blood by the left edge of his collar. The man chuckled, shoving Tami and Dean backward as he stepped over the devil's trap John had drawn into the underside of the Washington's welcome mat. "Sam!" Dean yelled, scrambling to his feet and shoving Tami behind him as he withdrew a short silver knife from his boot. Sam had gathered the twins, pushing them towards their bedroom only for the vampire to leap over the coffee table towards them.

"Tasty little morsels. Came for the Winchester boys, but look at what I've stumbled upon!" He groans, flashing those second-row pointed teeth before being rushed by Dean. He promptly tossed Dean into the wall above the couch as Tami brought a heavy metal bat across his back before he swatted her across the room where she hit with a heavy thud.

With Dean and Tami out, Sam clutched the silver pie server that he'd thought to grab from Tami's china cabinet, both girls huddled behind him under the breakfast bar between the stools. The vampire crept closer, eyeballing the youngest Winchester with a smirk.

"Think of how your daddy is gonna feel - coming in here to see all these little bodies. All these people he couldn't save..." He clicked his tongue against his teeth, easing closer still. Sam waited until he was close, letting the vampire make the first move before thrusting the pie server as hard as he could into the vampire’s side. The vampire let out a loud roar, swinging his arm wide and tossing Sam across the room near his brother.

As the vampire turned his attention back to the twins, he wrinkled his forehead, finding them gone from their poor hiding spot.

He turned to find one of them clutching the silver knife, her light blue eyes hard as she stood in front of the adults, her twin attempting to wake their mother. The vampire moved forward confidently, only to have the little girl hurl the bloody pie server at his head, the knife still clutched in her tiny hand. He chuckled at the brazenness of the child. Perhaps he'd keep her...

Dean raised his head, seeing Sam just arm’s length away, shaking his head to clear it. What he didn’t expect to see was Y/N standing with her little back to him, clutching his knife as she stood bravely between them and the vamp.

The vampire rushed forward, only to be knocked sideways suddenly by John. And when the vamp regained his footing, his headless body slumped forward as Dean hurriedly checked over Sam with a quick nod. John watched as Dean knelt carefully in front of Y/N, taking the knife from her grip and talking to her softly as her twin threw her little body at Sam - asking if her mother was going to be okay in sobbed whispers.

“Hey, Y/N. That’s my girl.” His son’s large hand sweeps over the little girl’s hair, smiling kindly at her. “You were very brave, thank you for protecting us.” She was staring off just over Dean’s broadening shoulders and John felt a sharp tug in his gut. He’d been the cause of all this. The vampire had followed his scent back here and sent this little girl into shock. “Y/N.” Dean pushes a little, cupping her little face as she finally looks at him. John moves to pick up Tami, ordering Sam and Dean to grab the girls so they could go back to the motel.

“Dean.” Y/N whispers as Dean picks her up, propping her on his hip while Sam took Myka’s hand and followed behind John, Dean picking up the rear.

“Yeah?” He tucked himself into the passenger seat, Y/N unwilling to let him go as he buckled her in.

“I’ll miss you.” John shot a look at Dean over her head before meeting his youngest son’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He knew Dean didn’t have the heart to lie to her or to feed her a line. His sons were already both too attached.

“I’ll miss you too.”

---

When Tami awoke an hour or so later, John sat her on the edge of the worn motel mattress and told her about everything that goes bump in the night while her daughters watched an old western, Myka speaking softly to Sam as Y/N sat quietly pressed against Dean. He explained he’d already gotten rid of the vampire’s body and to keep the welcome mat to keep out demons.

“I lost my wife to the supernatural. My boys have adjusted. So, will your girls. Y/N is a little spitfire.”

“Y/N?” Tami questions, looking over to the quieter half of her twins.

“She stood in front of you, Dean and Sam with Dean’s knife. That’s what I saw when I came in to handle the vamp.” John casts a fond look at the little girls with his sons. “Got a pair of fine girls, Tami.” He pats her knee before rising from his kneeling position. “I’ve made a list of things to always keep in your house,” He hands her a folded paper before rolling his shoulders. “You three will stay here tonight. We’ll be leaving in the morning, Tami.” Tami nods numbly before moving across the room and gathering her daughters to sleep. John jerked his head to the other bed, letting Sam and Dean have it while he slept on the small couch, his chest tight. He’d been unable to spare those two innocent little girls from this glimpse of terror - and in the morning, he’d have to pull his sons away from those little girls, probably never to be seen again.

Tagging: @chelsea072498 @lucis-unicorn @sakurablossom4 @clockworkmorningglory

#reader x sam #reader x dean #reader x sam x dean #soulmate au #authoressskr writes #supernatural reader insert #sam winchester #dean winchester #john winchester #spn

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