#help find d.w
Thank you kind people, we will find d.w. and set the countdown to zero! In the meantime however, it has been 1,370 days without her :(
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late night calls (with you) | d.w
reader misses dean.
gif by @canonspngifs
angsty for no reason, fluffy too, listened to iu’s through the night the whole time while writing this, not set in any particular szn
“OH AND NO phones this whole weekend.”
jody shoots you a pointed look, a playful smile lingering on her lips.
you make sure your eyes roll all the way to the back as everyone slowly but surely turns to smirk at you.
even alex, now who was she to speak on excessive usage of phones?
“i won’t die if i don’t get to use my phone, just so you guys know.” you huff, crossing your arms in annoyance as donna barks with laughter.
so, you had to give up your actual phone, the other one too and the other, other one sitting in the car as well.
claire made a whole show out of it, collecting each and every one in a bucket labelled distractions crossed out in red.
“time to bring out the vodka!”
you can’t help crack a chuckle at jody’s scandalized expression at claire’s screech.
it was going to be one hell of a girls weekend.
your heart is in your mouth, pounding with each light step towards the bathroom. a slight weight tugs the pocket of your cardigan downwards, it’s your old flip phone.
in your defense, you didn’t even know it was still with you. (well, you kind of did but it’s not your fault claire couldn’t find it.)
you cringe as the door creaks open, pushing it one inch at a time until there’s enough space to slide in.
the phone takes a lifetime to switch on, you’re luck there’s a bar of charge left.
your fingers fumble around, accidentally pressing the wrong buttons each time you press one right. jesus, how did you use this back then?
the contact list doesn’t extend beyond one click of the down arrow key.
your heart clenches a little, remembering how easy it was to just call bobby up whenever you wanted. he was within your reach, a phonecall or just a drive away.
it’s crazy the little things we take for granted.
a few more names pop up, all dead or estranged, mostly dead and you feel sick to your guts.
you hurriedly hit the back button several times until the ugly, default wallpaper, with pixels you can count, greets you.
dean’s number materialises on the screen as you punch in the numbers to his personal cell, meant for only sam and you.
he picks up on the third ring, “ok, who did you kill to get this phone?”
you deadpan, slightest bit of annoyance flaring “ha ha, dean. i risk my life to call and that’s the first thing you say?”
his laughter crackles in your ear, he seems to switch the phone towards the other ear.
“jody gave me the low down about girls weekend. no phones, no men and definitely no insanely hot boyfriends.”
you perch yourself on top of the toilet bowl, barely just hovering over it. it’s uncomfortable but better than standing idly.
“looks like that won’t be a problem for me.”
he gasps so loudly you have to muffle the phone with your hands, manically shushing him.
“i’m hiding in the bathroom, can you be a little more quiet?” you hiss, keeping an ear perked up for any telling sounds outside.
you’re met with silence and a gentle buzz of static letting you know dean’s still on call.
“thought you didn’t want me to speak.” he whispers, probably wearing a shit-eating-but-also-adorable grin.
you almost crush the poor flip phone in your bare hand, “yeah, i didn’t mean to shut up, you ass.”
he’s chuckling again but you’re well prepared to muffle the phone this time, quite possibly damaging the ancient speakers.
“you know, even if we’re miles apart, the sky we share will always be the same.”
you mock gag at his words, “did you steal that from a movie or something?”
dean scoffs through the phone and you can practically see his eyes roll back.
“i’m a romantic, you’re just a boring, old realist.”
a muffled chuckle leaves your lips, free hand clamping it shut, hyperaware of a cabin full of hunters who sleep with a loaded gun under their pillow.
you peek a glance up, the moon’s not even out, little to no stars jewelled beside. you think you see a tiny sparkle in the distance if you squint hard enough.
“there are no stars on my end.”
“that’s cause you’re not looking in the mirror.”
a giggle escapes your lips despite your attempts to remain indifferent towards his god awful pick up lines, like always.
you can almost hear his smile through the phone, he’s probably pumping his fist up in the air in proud victory.
unadmittedly, something about the shared night sky is intimate, tugs at your heart. it’s a jarring, welcomed constant in both of your lives.
one too many car rides spent under the night sky, sometimes admiring it with a mildly infuriatingly warm beer and an equally riveting squabble with sam over who gets to ride shotgun next.
a longing want overwhelms you, you have so much to say, so much more dean needs to know.
time feels stolen, borrowed every second you spend with him. you’re always scrambling to cook a new recipe or go to that new diner around the block. never stopping because just in case.
just in case a hunt goes wrong, just in case you piss off the wrong deities, the wrong witches or the wrong demons.
just in case he dies.
the words die in your throat each time, etch themselves in your diary instead. they stay locked up in the confines of pages, wash away like the engravings of your initials he always draws on the sand of kansas beach.
his initials rests on the nook of your clavicle around a delicate, silver chain.
he’d gifted it to you the previous christmas, citing the importance of you wearing it all the time so those shrimp jack asses stop hitting on you.
sam pointed out how it doesn’t lessen the chances of you getting hit on because strangers couldn’t possibly know what d.w stands for or who he/she is.
dean placed bugs in his bed that night.
god, you miss his petty ass already.
“i miss you.” you blurt out while he’s rambling on about sam’s poor outfit choices for his most recent date.
a pause, he seems to absorb, understand the depth of your words.
“i know,” his voice’s softer, hushed like the sky might hear and tell the moon, “i know.”
the way he says that, you’re sure you’re falling for him all over again.
“i have half a mind to come and bring you back home right now.” he teases lightly, an edge in his voice that seems to suggest otherwise.
you simply smile, fingers lifting to trace his initials on your neck. it’s silent for a while, comfortable and you bask in it, knowing he’s on the other side doing the same.
“what are you doing?” you ask after a while, drawing your knees to your chest, resting your chin in the nook of their valley.
“just thinking of you.” he muses. you should be chuckling at that, teasing him for such a cheesy line but your heart just swells ten fold.
“can you promise me something?”
dean hums, gulping down a drink, probably a cold beer. (which you strongly, strongly disagree with. he just waves you off whenever you bring up his cholesterol and all the old age stuff.)
“don’t die, okay? atleast not before me.”
he chuckles lightly, “you usually only say that before a hunt, or when i have a plate of bacon infront of me.”
“i know, just reminding you.”
it comes off sadder than intended, your desparation slips in right at the end and he seems to notice.
“i solemnly promise that i won’t die. it’s a pinky swear and you know how serious i am
about these pinkies.”
you raise your pinky to no one in particular, imagining his snug around yours, thumbs meeting in unison, a kiss on your lips to seal it.
a yawn involuntarily escapes your mouth, eyes watering slightly and it hurts to keep them open.
“hey sleepyhead, don’t doze off on me.” he mumbles, sounding half asleep himself.
a light flickers on outside, streaming in through the keyhole.
“shit, i think they’re on to me.” you whisper, frantically flushing the toilet. your arm knocks over a shampoo rack in the process, no doubtedly waking everyone up to atrociously loud clanging.
dean has the nerve to laugh at your predicament, “just make sure you come home to me whole.”
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By Your Doorstep (Part 9)
Summary: The reader and Tessa spend their first Christmas with the Winchesters and their friends, resulting in an eventful night...
Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader
Word Count: 2,800ish
A/N: Please enjoy this final part! I loved writing this one and exploring everything this series had to offer!
“Hello ladies,” said Dean, popping his head out from the hall and into the room Tessa was staying in. “Mind if I steal your sister?”
“Go for it,” she said, jumping up from bed and rushing over to her suitcase. She pulled out a box and held it out. “I thought I left it at home but Y/N found it in the hall. It’s your other present.”
“The zip up was very nice of you already,” he said. He tore off the paper and you smirked from bed, Dean making a face as he looked at the box.
“It’s a mug. I made it in art class,” she said. He opened the package and went wide eyed, staring at her as he pulled it out.
“Tessa, this is really good,” he said, smiling at the little D.W. she’d painted on the side. “You made this?”
“Yeah. I’m good at ceramics,” she said with a shrug. “If you don’t like it that’s okay.”
“I have a new favorite mug,” he said, giving her a hug. “I can drink out of it, right?”
“Yeah. It’s fine for using and dishwasher, all that,” she said.
“Well I for one am glad you are getting your minor in art next year,” he said.
“School’s important but you gotta have some fun,” he said. “This is one of the best presents I’ve ever gotten.”
“I made everybody one,” she said with a shrug. “I gotta give Sam his still.”
“I think he’s out with Eileen and a few other people in the hot tub.”
“I was gonna go hang out with Jack, maybe we’ll head out there,” she said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Make smart choices,” he teased as she walked out. You stood up from bed and walked out to the hall, wrapping your arms around his waist. “She loves me.”
“Yes she does,” you said, a big smile on his face. “You like that, huh?”
“Yes, I do. Besides, I gotta get her on board if I want you,” he said. “How am I doing so far?”
“Oh so you’re curious if I love you,” you said.
“More than you could possibly understand,” he said. You smiled and stood up on your tip toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.
“Dean. I love you.”
“Good because I love you,” he said.
“That’s very good,” you said. He gave you a kiss, resting his hands along your hips.
“Wanna take a walk with me?” he asked. You nodded and let him take your hand, following him downstairs and into the foyer where you dressed in your coats and boats, hats and scarves. You walked out the front with him and down the driveway a ways until you were on the private road up there, twinkle lights adorned in the trees.
“This really is beautiful up here, Dean,” you said, your gloved hands laced together.
“It is. Never really thought this would ever be my life growing up,” he said.
“We had holidays like this when we were younger,” you said. “It’s not really about the presents or the lights at the end of the day though.”
“No, it’s definitely not,” he said. “I know we only got here yesterday but are you enjoying it so far?”
“More than. I don’t dread these things anymore. I don’t dread life anymore.”
“Can I ask what your plans are for once Tessa goes to school next year? I know she’ll be living at home but she’s gonna be out and about more often,” he said.
“I don’t really know,” you said. “What about you?”
“Sammy’s interested in the place two doors down across the street. He might put an offer in,” said Dean.
“What ya asking Dean?”
“If you asked me six months ago if I ever thought I’d love someone, I’d have said no that wasn’t for me. But then I met you and things changed. I’ve never really asked if you’re a marriage kind of gal I guess.”
“If I loved him I would marry him. I’d have a family of our own with him too,” you said. Dean nodded and you bumped his shoulder. “Death is the price we pay for living. But I think what I’ve learned these past six months is that caring and loving someone is worth the pain at the end of the day. The pain subsides and it’s still there but it doesn’t destroy you anymore. So yeah, I’m definitely open to marriage and kids and the dog with the white picket fence thing.”
“My fence is brown,” he chuckled.
“I can look past that detail,” you said. “Would you ever consider marriage?”
“Yes. I absolutely would,” he said. You smiled and he squeezed your hand. “You think I’m gonna like...propose or something now?”
“I think I love you and anything else, whenever or if ever that may be, it would just be a cherry on top,” you said. “I don’t need a ring or to be Mrs. Winchester to tell me how I feel.”
“I figured as much. Safer to ask though,” he said. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and held out a small wrapped box to you. “Merry Christmas sweetheart.”
You dropped his hand so you could unwrap it, finding a black box inside. You took off the lid and smiled, looking back over to Dean.
“You like it?” he asked shyly, blush appearing on his cheeks. “Tessa helped me pick it out.”
“Dean are you proposing?” you asked. He cocked his head and you turned the empty ring back towards him, his face falling.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” he said, covering his face. “I never put it back in the box. It’s at home. Oh my God I’m so dumb.”
“Dean,” you smiled, tilting your head and wrapping your arms around him. “Is there something you’d like to ask me?”
“It would make this idiot very happy if you decided to marry him,” he said with a smile.
“M’kay,” you said, pulling him down for a deep kiss. “That’s a yes by the way.”
“Even if I’m an idiot?”
“Told you I don’t need a ring, Winchester,” you said. “Just need you...Mr. & Mrs. Winchester has a nice ring to it though.”
“Technically it’s Dr. and…” he trialed off as you kissed him again. “God I love you.”
“I love you,” you said, throwing your arms over his shoulders. He tripped and fell back in the snow, laughing as you went with him. “Fuck I love the shit out of you.”
“I second that,” he said, rolling you to your back and kissing you. “Your sister is a hard nut to crack you know.”
“Did you ask her about this?”
“She’s very protective of big sis...but she said some very sweet things to me,” he said.
“She’s a sucker for you guys,” you said. “But she’s not the only one.”
You rolled over and meant to put him on his back but you ended up shifting and rolling down the hill with him, landing in a big pile of snow. You couldn’t see him at first but he was giggling like a kid and it was just about the best sound you’d ever heard in your life.
“I love you,” you said as you sat up. He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned. You jumped on top of him and rolled around in the snow, throwing snowballs and playing until both your jeans were soaked through and the cold was getting to be a bit much.
“Hey. You want to warm up with me in the shower?” he said.
“Absolutely,” you said. You walked back up the hill with him, picking up the box from the road. He threw his arm over your shoulders and tugged you close into his side. “Maybe we can even have a little fun in that jacuzzi tub.”
“That’s my girl,” he chuckled.
“That’s my boy,” you said, taking off your hat and pulling it over his head.
“I can get used to that.” He took off your hat and his baseball cap, putting the cap on you and tugging your hat back on.
“You’re never getting that blue Henley back by the way,” you said.
“You’re never getting your black hoodie back,” he said. You stopped and he pushed his hat down over your face.
“Dork,” you said, pushing it up and wrapping an arm around his waist. You walked up the road, chilly when you walked back inside. You took off your coat and boots, tossing everything on the rack.
You caught Sam and Tessa peeking their heads down the hall, both of them in their bathing suits. They stared at you and Dean, both dripping water.
“Yes we’re engaged,” you said.
“Yes!” said Tessa, Sam giving her a high five.
“Finally,” said Sam.
“Don’t you two have people to go make out with in the hot tub?” said Dean.
“Gah, like I’d do that in front of him,” said Tessa.
“I was having a perfectly good time with Eileen until you and Jack-“
“Goodnight guys,” you said.
“They got engaged!” shouted Sam, different parts of the house shouting back. Dean pulled you up the staircase and down to your room, locking the door behind you.
“Hi,” you grinned, kissing his nose.
“Hi. Wanna warm up?”
“After you, sweetheart.”
Three Months Later
“I’m beat,” said Dean, arm slung over your shoulders as the two of you walked up the street towards your house. You’d spent the day helping Sam and Eileen move into Sam’s new house just down the road, sticking around to unpack dishes and boxes long after everyone else had gone home.
“Our boy is all grown up,” you teased, Dean leaning against you. “Happy Sammy’s so close by?”
“Yup,” he said with a smile. “I think us older siblings did an alright job.”
“We still have to get Tessa through college,” you said.
“She’ll be fine. She wants to major in medicine sciences. I may or may not be able to help her out there some,” he said.
“Nerd,” you said, getting a smack on the ass from him. “Boy.”
“Girl,” he said, smirking and kissing your cheek. “It’s not the easiest thing in the world, I know, but she’s smart. We can all help her out. Except her art minor homework. I have no clue on that,” he said.
“First semester will probably be the roughest.”
“She’ll be okay,” he said. “What I am worried about it the fact she’s making us dinner tonight.”
“Ten bucks says it’s box mac and cheese.”
“Oh she informed me that it would be epic. I have high expectations,” he said.
“Hm, that must clearly be a good sign,” you said, nodding to your front porch where a very burnt tray of something sat on the step.
“Is it too late for takeout?” he chuckled.
“Let’s hope not,” you said, climbing up the steps. “We’re home!”
“How’d it go? We saw the...wait...it smells shockingly good in here,” said Dean, taking off his coat.
“I’m a better chef than you two give me credit for,” she said from the kitchen, humming as she worked over the stove. “I burnt the biscuits but everything else is nearly done.”
“If it tastes as good as it smells we should have you cook for us more often,” you said.
“Laugh it up,” she said. Dean pulled you upstairs and you washed off the sweat of working all day, changing into something relaxing in time to walk downstairs and spot Tessa setting plates down at the table.
“Oh. Fancy,” you said, Dean pulling out your seat for you. You sat and he took his own, Tessa humming as she pulled out a bottle of wine from the fridge and sat it down on the table. “Alright. What are you up to? This is way too nice.”
“Nothing. I knew you guys would be tired and you guys always make me dinner and stuff,” she said.
“Mhm,” you hummed, Dean smirking up at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed.
“This what I get for being nice. I’m going over Jack’s,” she said.
“Make smart choices kiddo,” said Dean with a wink. She groaned and messed up his hair before she took off, Toast trotting after. “Take my car if you want, Tess.”
“Thank you!” she called back, ducking out the door after a moment.
“Well this was very nice of her,” you said. You cut into your chicken and paused, showing it to Dean and giggling.
“Maybe tomorrow we’ll show her how to use a meat thermometer, make sure the food is actually cooked,” he chuckled, picking up the plates and scraping the food in the trash.
“It’s the thought that counts,” you said, picking up the bottle of wine.
“Yes it is. What are you thinking?” he asked. “Taco Saturday?”
“I want a big ass burrito,” you said. “With extra cheese. And nachos.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, washing up his hands at the sink. “Wine and Mexican food. Perfect combo if I do say so myself.”
Three Months Later
“You got me a car!” said Tessa, hopping up and down when she opened the front door. She ran over to it and pulled off the bow, sliding in behind the wheel.
“You were worried she wouldn’t like a used one,” chuckled Dean in your ear.
“I was not,” you said, slapping his chest, Toast running out past you. You watched Sam and Eileen come out of their house a few down, Sam staring over in your direction. “We’ll meet you there!”
He waved and they climbed in, driving past with a honk as Tessa squealed.
“Alright, alright,” said Dean. “We got a graduation to get to, ladies.”
“Cheers,” said Dean, laying back on the lounger on the balcony, toasting his glass to yours. You stretched out and rolled over closer to him, kissing him gently. “You’ve officially survived the high school phase.”
“Why do I feel like the college phase is harder,” you laughed.
“She’s already got the college boyfriend down,” he said.
“Yeah but Jack is Jack. He’s sweet. She’s the one I worry about.”
“You’ll always worry,” he said, his arm hanging loosely over your shoulders. “Kids sound like they’re having fun down there.”
“She’s happy. It’s all I could ever ask for.”
“Are you happy?” he asked.
“I’m home,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. You hugged his waist, Dean shutting his eyes with a smile. “You want to get married next summer?”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said.
“Come on. You gotta have some opinions on this,” you said.
“I kinda like the idea of a spring wedding. Maybe May or something. I wouldn’t mind honeymooning somewhere on a beach,” he said.
“That sounds great,” you said, his fingers dancing along your arm. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“I almost asked my dad if I could meet you once you know. The boy from the mail room. You seemed...I don’t know, like a really good person.”
“Did I meet expectations?” he asked.
“Blew right past them,” you said, getting a kiss on the temple. “You happy?”
“I got my girl. I got my brother. Got Tessa and Eileen and my friends and Toast and this little baby, Miracle,” he said, picking up the sleeping puppy beside him. “I have never been so happy in my life.”
“Good,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Want to go see if there’s any graduation cake left? Bet it’d go good with this bourbon.”
“God I love you,” he chuckled as he kissed you. “So fucking much.”
“Me too, Dean. Me too.”
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Weekly Fic Recs
Lots of variety this week. A couple of new to me writers as well.
Many of these blogs and fics are NSFW-18+. Please honor any requests from a blog regarding no minors and heed the warnings for each fic.
All fics are from the SPN fandom unless otherwise noted.
The Game ~ @there-must-be-a-lock. Author's Summary: wingedcatninja requested something with Dean and “sexy rules” and I was more than happy to oblige!
"I'm Not Blonde." ~ @67midnightwriter. Author's Summary: None
Whisper To a Scream ~ @rockhoochie. Author's Summary: None
The Lost Art Of... ~ @minefield-of-a-ninja. Author's Summary: brain dump post Charcon images
The One Who Got Away ~ @luci-in-trenchcoats. Author's Summary: While out with friends one night, the reader bumps into her old high school best friend, Jensen. They always had a will they, won’t they relationship but the reader finds things with Jensen don’t seem to be going as well she thinks they are…
late night calls (with you) | d.w. ~ @l4verq. Author's Summary: reader misses dean.
Pull Over ~ @agirlwithdemonblood. Author's Summary: Past memories start to suffocate you and your husband tries everything he can to bring you back to him.
Come Join The Murder ~ @princessmisery666. Author's Summary: When Dean goes to hell, he tasks Nikki with keeping an eye on Sam. She doesn’t anticipate the pain that comes with it.
My Beautiful Boy ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Jensen is curious about something his wife said she used to do back in the day and works up the courage to give it a try…
Never Doubt the Best Man: The Bachelor Party ~ @stusbunker. Author's Summary: Dean hosts a surprise bachelor party for Sam. There are strippers and a bartender. John has a different favorite child in this AU.
Wild (1/3) ~ @roonyxx. Author's Summary: Dean kicks you out of the bunker after he realizes his feeling for you are too strong. He does it for you own protection. But he just pushed you into the wrong hands…
Fight For Me-Chapter 3 ~ @jawritter. Author's Summary: He found you in his darkest hour. There was something about this man that just wouldn’t let you leave him alone. He needed you, almost as much as you needed him. Sometimes, even the strongest people out there need someone to fight for them too.
Home To You-Thirty-one ~ @smol-and-grumpy. Author’s Summary: Dean enlisted in the hopes to help secure enough money for Sam to be able to go to college. Of course he didn’t tell Sam. Why would he? Sam would understand, right? Turns out, Sam didn’t get it, and is giving Dean the silent treatment for over a year. In Dean’s desperation to reconnect with Sam, Dean reaches out to his brother’s best friend. Little does he know that the hurricane named Y/N will turn out to be the reason he wants to stay alive and go back home for.
Postcards (Masterlist) ~ @sebbytrash. Author's Summary: Takes place after Civil War. Bucky is your best friend but of course you’re in love with him. He goes off to travel the world and rediscover himself, sending you Postcards along the way, whilst you struggle with your feelings.
The T-1000 Handmaiden ~ @princessmisery666. Author's Summary: Sam has an idea, which of course involves belittling Bucky, Steve sees the potential but it’s unethical and Thor does not get the concept of subtlety or, apparently, Sam’s pop references.
Silly things do cease to be silly ~ @jomiddlemarch. Author's Summary: None
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DREAMING OF YOU D.W.
Request: hiii can i request an angsty older damian fic where he and the reader broke up but are still very much in love? maybe based out of the song "dream a little dream of me"? the ending is totally up to you!
A/N: Lol I’ve been so preoccupied with the Halloween prompts I keep forgetting I have requested fics in my drafts. Anyways, I don’t know if this was exactly what you wanted but I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 2.2k
Damian Wayne was the best thing to ever happen to you.
Damian came into your life when you were at your lowest. He was the one that helped you to climb out of that never ending pit that you were stuck in. He made you see the good in the world and that you could still find your own happiness. In the end of it all, you found happiness in him.
It was the little things that you found joy in again. Waking up early enough to see the sunrise. Ice cream on hot summer days. A walk in the park with Titus. Fresh produce from a farmers market. It was those things that drove you to see the light again, all because Damian was willing to stick by your side.
You started planning your life again. Finishing your last two years of your university degree. Buying a new apartment that wasn’t in the slums of Gotham. Reconnecting with family members that you hadn't talked with in months - some even years. You wanted a fresh start, and you had created one.
Damian got you back on track without even realizing it. He gave you hope for the future. Life with him was perfect. You couldn't imagine a future without him. He bled his heart and soul into your relationship, just as you did. Damian was the best thing to ever happen to you.
Until he wasn't.
The secrets, the lies, it caused fights between you. Damian hid part of his life from you and you couldn't understand why he was being so protective of it. You had opened yourself completely to him, and he couldn't be bothered to do the same. He loved you, there was no doubt about that. It was whether or not he devoted himself as much as you ever did.
You began questioning your entire relationship with him. How much of it was built on his lies? What even were his lies? The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you had only scratched to surface of who Damian really was. You didn't know anything about him, and he didn't want to tell you. He couldn’t.
Which led to the hard decision of whether or not you were willing to keep a relationship that was so one sided. How could you love someone when they were only willing to show a certain side of themselves? The answer: you couldn't. You loved Damian, you would forever. But it came down to the ultimatum of showing the real him or leaving.
Apparently Damian never loved you as much as you thought he did. He was gone by morning.
For weeks your dreams were plagued of him, mundane dreams that felt so real. Him waking you up for the sunrise that shone so perfectly into your window. Instead, when you opened your eyes, grey clouds were all that you could see. The days weren't nearly as pretty without Damian there to share it's beauty with you.
The bed was no longer filled with love and warmth. It was cold, you dreaded getting into it. His side was empty, though his smell still lingered no matter how many times you tried washing it away. Titus' fur would be found in your blankets and a random toy stuck under your couch. He probably missed you more than Damian did.
You swore you saw Damian everywhere after your breakup. At the drive through of your favourite fast food place, the park where you used to sit together, hell you thought you saw him at the grocery store. Damian didn't like grocery shopping, he never went. You felt delusional with seeing him everywhere.
At night when you were alone on the streets, you felt an eerily similar presence as him following you. Sometimes at night that same feeling would draw you towards your window and stare out of it in hopes to see his familiar green eyes. You were disappointed every time.
You never wanted to break up with him. You hoped so desperately that you could have worked things out with him. He was perfect for you, and you to him. Being without him was killing you inside. You missed his love, his smile, his touch, even that adorable little tick he had. TT. You hated when you picked it up and continued to use it without him.
You didn't know it, but Damian was a bigger mess without you.
He missed you more than he ever missed anyone or anything in his life. At home he was quiet, only keeping company with his pets. He refused conversation with his father or Alfred. Dick couldn’t even get through to him. Being back in the manor was something he didn't imagine himself doing. Yet, here he was.
His night life became more violent. He didn't have a fear of holding back his punches anymore because you would never find out his secret. His fucking secret. That was the reason that you were out of his life. Knowing that he was Robin? He didn't want to taint your beautiful life with that.
More times than not he would watch over you. Whether it was when you were walking home or at your apartment. He just needed to know that you were okay. Okay and alive were two very different things. Damian learned that very quickly. Without you, he wasn't sure if he would be okay ever again.
Damian craved your kiss. He didn't realize how lucky he was to even have a small peck here and there until it was taken away from him. There was nothing he wanted to do more than to rush to you and tell you how much he missed you. To hold you in his arms one last time and kiss you until your legs gave out.
He had dreams of you at night. Dreams of you laying in his arms with a smile on your face. You would tell him about your day and how much you loved him. He felt the warmth of you until the moment he woke up. Then, it was nothing but coldness. A dark, lonely room without any sign of you.
You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
It was that moment when he decided that he had made the biggest mistake of his life. If he cared about you enough, he should have been willing to let you decide if you wanted to stay in his life after knowing his secret. If he wanted you to be with him, then you were going to have to learn it one day.
It seemed easier to hurt you now, than it would have to be hurt by you after knowing everything he had done. Damian took the easy way out. He should have fought for you, trusted you with his secrets. He couldn't let you escape him, not while there was still a strand of hope.
Damian launched himself out of bed. It was nearing two in the morning but he didn't care. He needed to see you right now. He raced across the city on his cycle, passing all the streets in a blur. The way from his father's home to yours was etched into his brain. He could have made it there with his eyes closed if he so wanted to.
The kickstand on his bike was barely pulled out and his helmet thrown to the ground. Damian ran to your doorstep and feverishly knocked on your door. He was most likely to wake you, but it was worth it. He was ready to spill his heart and soul out to you and plead for you to take him back.
To his surprise, you opened the door relatively fast. You looked so effortlessly beautiful. A pair of shorts on a bag shirt - his shirt. Your hair was sopping wet and it was clear that you had just gotten out of the shower. Bags were under your eyes and you looked like you hadn't slept since your break up.
You stood there, mouth agape, unsure of what the hell he was doing at your door step at two in the morning on a Wednesday. It was raining out, Damian's hair matched your own. He was soaked to the bone and his clothes clung to him. A desperate look was on his face.
"Damian..." You breathed out. He looked like a wreck. Creases around his eyes that had never been there before were evident. His hands trembled at his sides - though that might have just been from the cold. "What're you doing here?"
"I needed to see you," Damian started. His heart clenched at the sight of you. "I needed to apologize for everything that I did, for keeping things from you. I was so scared that if you knew the truth about me that I would lose you."
"You lost me anyways, Damian," You shook your head. He was the one that decided to walk out on you after you were willing to put in the work. It was Damian that made that decision, he lost you because he choose to. All of this was his fault and only his fault - the secrets he kept, the choices he made.
"Please, please just let me explain everything," Damian begged. He didn't know if he could ever live with himself if you turned him away in this moment. "If you want me to leave after, I will. You'll never have to see or hear from me again, just... I can't go on anymore knowing that there's someway that I can try to fix this. That there’s still a chance of getting you back."
You crossed your arms over your chest, debating whether or not you were willing to be hurt by him again. Damian was the love of your life, he would always be the love of your life. Letting him explain himself too you, that was either going to be the ticket he needed back into your life, or the closure you finally needed. Or something far worse.
So, maybe mistakenly, you opened the door wider to let Damian in. Your home hadn't changed much in the weeks that he was gone. It was messier, but otherwise identical. Several picture frames of the two of you were turned down, but not put away. His hoodie that he left behind was still strewn across the back of the chair.
He thanked you as you handed him a towel. Damian sat on your coffee table directly across from your spot on the couch. He paused for a moment, wondering where to begin and how far back he needed to go. If you were going to take him back after that night, you would deserve to know everything.
For now, he started with his arrival in Gotham City all those years ago.
He told of you his life with his father, his brothers. The teams that he had been on and the struggles that he had been through. Damian told you of his hardships, his dreams, his failures. He told you of the times that he had lost all hope and the times that you had given some back to him.
Damian told you everything there was to know about his life as Robin.
By the end of it, you were in tears. All those times that he lied to you about what he was going or where he was going, his 'business trips' for his father, they were all because he was risking his life to be Robin. Damian was a hero, and you were too oblivious to even notice. You were so focused on his lies that you didn't want to see why he was doing so. Everything he did was to protect you.
Damian reached forward and wiped away your tears. He didn't want to see you upset from his. Your bottom lip trembled. You felt horrible for being cruel to him so many times because you didn't know the truth. Without another thought, you leaped into his arms.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You sobbed against him. Damian kissed the top of your head. He cupped your cheeks, making you meet his eyes. His gaze flickered down to your lips for a split second before looking back to yours. It was a subtle way of asking if it as okay. You answered by initiating your long awaited kiss.
The weeks apart left a yearning for you both. This kiss was the one thing that both of you craved most. The tenderness of it, the love that fueled it. You felt like you were going to combust from how much you missed his kisses. Your dreams of him kissing you were nothing compared to this.
"I love you," Damian pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. He was petrified to let you go again, scared that you wouldn't come back this time. Dreams of you would never be enough for him. Damian needed you like he needed air. "I can't live without you. I dreamed of you ever night."
"I wished upon the stars every night hoping that you would come back to me," You confessed. "Please don't leave me again."
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Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader (Benny Lafitte’s slightly younger sister)
Summary: He was everything she despised. He was a womaniser, misogynistic and a soul destroying flirt. He was also her brother’s best friend. She knew the first time they slept together was a mistake. But what about the other times?
Warnings: Angst, friends with benefits (sort of), enemies to lovers (sort of), fluff, drinking, swearing, a bit of smut - OVER 18′S ONLY
Entry: @tvdspngirl314′s birthday writing event
My prompt was “I let her in, I never let people in.” which can be found in bold in the story.
A/N: Considering this was supposed to be a little 3k fic (at most) for Ally’s writing event, suddenly it became far more than I expected!
To note; this whole thing is set in Lawrence, Kansas to make the whole thing easier for me to write and, as always, the tenses area little bit all over the place, I can never seem to make it flow otherwise. Time to take liberties!
Also, a piece of dialogue was taken from this post.
Title: Hurricane by 30 Seconds to Mars
Please let me know what you think, and as always, reblogs are acts of kindness.
Meeting Dean Winchester had initially felt like the most refreshing twist of fate, life dangling this gorgeous creature in front of her with his piercing green eyes and the most magnificent and alluring smile she’d quite possibly ever seen. In muted video footage he would have been the most eligible bachelor this side of Kansas, would lure any woman (or man for that matter) in and have you putty in his hands before you’d even grasped what had happened. But in reality, seated opposite him in a bar of rowdy guys, and two of her girlfriends, the moment he opened his mouth to speak to her, she wanted to punch him in the throat so he couldn’t talk to her again.
He may have had the perfect face for those lonesome nights in her bedroom, but his flagrant disregard for his best friend’s sister showed her just how much of a prick he really was, and she really wasn’t one to suffer fools gladly. She’d wind him up, push his buttons and keep going until he too realised just what an appalling human he really was.
Maybe appalling was too harsh a word, but either way, she’d make a conscious effort to become utterly disinterested every time he opened his mouth in future.
The feud starting conversation had gone something like this, over a few beers and talk of the complexity of someone’s relationship. She ought to have known it would have been a disaster from the get-go.
“She just let off on me, thought she was gonna damn near rip my head off,” Frankie had laughed, like upsetting his girlfriend was a jovial matter and not something to take seriously or civilly ponder.
“Kinda got a point though, you do spend a lot of time checking out that coworkers ass,” Jerry grinned and laughter poured out around the table. ‘At least Jerry get’s it’ she mused.
“Okay, girls, what's your opinion on this? You tell me if she’s justified or if you think she’s blown it all out of proportion then?” The table lifted their gaze to her and her friends, curiously wanting input into the situation that was boring her to the back teeth.
She mulled the conversation over in her head for a moment or two, wanting an answer that made her point without turning her brother’s birthday get tighter into a slanging match. But the second her lips moved to open her mouth, Dean opened his mouth to cut her off.
“Of course she’s blowing it all out of proportion, she’s a chick, ain’t that what they all do?”
Benny grinned cautiously and banged his hand on the table, “Just ‘cause you can’t keep one woman for more than a few hours, Deano.”
“Can’t bear to be bored.” The smirk on Dean’s face had her fist curling, he flashed his eyes up to gauge her reaction and shook his head, the smirk turning into his beer bottle as he pulled on a mouthful with a small head shake.
The curling of her blood and simmering heat that was rapidly boiling was not in arousal, it was born from instant dislike, his flippant attitude towards the female sex, like they were just there to look pretty and give him temporary bliss for an evening. She vowed to never be one of those women no matter how much he looked like he could take her apart in the best way she could imagine. He’s a wanker and she was better than that.
“That’s all we all are, aren’t we? A little bit of light relief to help you destress after a long - although probably idle - day of pretending to be important? Just something for you to stick your dick into and use until you feel she’s outstayed her welcome and you fancy sleeping alone again, because that’s what you’ll always be you know? Sad, alone and pathetic. The funny thing is, Winchester, you don’t realise that you’re the play thing, these woman are capable of relationships, they’re probably just after a bit fo fun or a rebound when they’re with you, but you, you’re incapable of such a thing, all you’re good for is a quick fuck and a see you never on the way out. Although, quite frankly, I bet you’re pretty sub par at that too.” She took a sip of her drink and lounged back in her chair, arms folded across her check, one leg draped over the other, and a sweet smile at the man she’d publicly humiliated.
The look on Dean’s face was a combination of amused, impressed and a dash of I can’t believe you just did that to me, it was equally as frustrating as it was triumphant.
“You’ve just got me all sussed, haven’t you, sweetheart?”
“I know a tonne of guys like you, and you’re all like little carbon copies of each other.”
“Hey, look Y/N, I’m sorry I got your panties in a twist, I can’t help that you’re a little sensitive.”
“Why am I sensing a sickening joke to follow about my panties?”
“You really do have me sussed,” Dean chewed on the inside of his lip for a beat and nodded along to the song playing overhead, “how about we call a truce and you come dance with me?”
Y/n was about to retort with something highly unladylike until she caught the smile on her brother’s face, one that seemed like he was happy the pair were going to put that little spat aside, she was stuck, she couldn’t disappoint Benny any day of the week, especially not on his birthday.
She sighed and weakly nodded with a sarcastic smile, “Fine Dean, truce.” The man opposite her stuck his hand out for her to shake, but instead she pushed back her chair and stood up, taking off for the dance floor area without a second glance.
He quickly caught up to her, one hand curling around her wrist to spin her around to face him, his ever present smirk still sat on his lips, and although she wanted to punch him in the face, watch his nose bleed so she could feel victorious, she was blindsided by the urge to pull him closer and lace her tongue with his until they were breathing the same air. Y/N Lafitte, N O.
“No truce then?”
“Look, all I want is my brother to be happy, and apparently, for some unknown reason to me, you’re his best friend so we need to be civil for his sake.”
“You’re making a mountain out of a molehill here, y’know that, right?”
“I think I’m pretty justified in my defence of women, it’s guys like you that make women feel worthless.”
“I’ve never once made a woman feel worthless, they usually feel pretty good with themselves after they’ve been with me.” Smug bastard.
“After they’ve - I’m not even going there. We’re sensitive, Dean, because we’re tired of being treated like shit by men who don’t value us, but hey, we’re just here for your enjoyment aren’t we?” She could feel her anger bubbling again but she was tired, tired of arguing and being defensive, and preaching to someone who really doesn’t give two shits. Y/N gave his foot a good stamping on as a parting gift and giggled, “oops, silly me, did I step on your toes? How clumsy of me.” Her jaw hardened before she took her leave, “Goodnight Dean, try not to break any hearts before you head home.”
Maybe she did make a bigger deal about it all than what was necessary, and perhaps Dean fell in the firing line after she’d heard one too many shitty comments from ex-boyfriends, one night stands, tales from her friends, but now she had a constant person that she could fire all that pent up aggression towards, and well, she hadn’t made him make those comments in the first place, had she?
The beat of the drums was pumping loudly, the dance floor of the bar was packed to the rafters, and Y/N was amidst the crowd with a group of her friends in the late evening, one Friday. The need for a night away from everyday life had overwhelmed her, her workload had increased, she was getting used to living with her brother again, and being the only single one out of her friends was taking its toll. Just recently she’d been hit with the full force of loneliness, the realisation that she was nearing thirty with no relationship, no promise of happiness or love or god forbid a family, it was a lot to take in with the pressures of her still young age feeling like a burden. Truth be told, she was still apprehensive about starting to date again, but she’d have to put that aside and move on if there was to be any hope for her. She needed a night to forget about that, to just allow herself to have fun and enjoy what she had around her, “Honestly, if the guys in this place are anything to go by, we’re gonna have to jump ship and find somewhere else because, Jesus Christ, I need to get laid.”
Anna smirked into her drink and nudged Y/N with her elbow with a laugh, “It’s all that pent up sexual frustration from meeting Dean.”
As soon as the words had left her friend's mouth, the onslaught of questions fired up and Y/N could just kill Anna for bringing Dean in the conversation, so what if she’d thought about him once or twice in the past few weeks, whilst she was alone? It was no one's business and she refused to admit it to anyone.
“Christ, I’m sexually frustrated from meeting him and I don’t even bat for his team.”
“There’s a Dean?”
Y/N glared at Anna for bringing him up and gave the same pointed look to Denise who too had been at Benny’s birthday, both clearly conspiring against her and taking great pleasure in the feud between them and the way they’d provoked each other that night. She gulped back a large sip of her drink and groaned, “You just had to mention him, didn’t you?”
Anna grinned meekly and shrugged, “You’re welcome?”
“Nu’uh, no getting out of this one missy,” Tara challenged with her eyebrows pinched and her lips pouted, Y/N knew better than to ignore her friends questions.
“He’s no one, and he definitely has nothing to do with me needing to get laid.”
“Try telling your lower half that.”
“I hate you, Denise. You and Anna are both going to hell.”
“Apparently lesbians go to hell anyway, so I’m already on my way, makes no odds to me. The jury’s still out on Anna.”
“Now you’re just teasing, tell us about him!” The other girls were too busy wanting to find out absolutely everything they could about the ‘mystery’ man to even respond to the jokes, it had been a long time since a guy had been mentioned in conjunction with Y/N, and immediately she was the center of the conversation.
“He’s just my brother's friend, we had this… disagreement the other week and that’s the last I’ve seen of him.”
“But you want in his pants?”
“I think at least half of the world's population wants in his pants.”
Y/N rolled her eyes at Anna, “He might be alright to look at but he’s a total dick, so both of our pants are staying on when we’re around each other, thank you.”
“That really is too bad, I’ll test him out for you.”
“Be my guest.”
Y/N was thankful when the conversation started to peter off and they found their way into something new, relief washed over her once he wasn’t the subject of conversation. Because, in all honesty, she’d actually thought about him a little more than just on the odd occasion. It didn’t help that he’d been over to the house a handful of times since their first meeting, seeing him lounging about on her sofa, pouring himself a drink in her kitchen, he looked so comfortable and gorgeous and she hated every part of herself for finding him a temptation. But tempting he was.
She danced around with her friends, the drinks she’d consumed made her body loose and she lost herself in the music, she allowed herself to feel free and weightless for the first time in a while. The moment she felt a hand curl around her waist and a voice perilously close to her ear, she felt her body stiffen.
“Hey darling, fancy a dance?”
She twisted a little to edge away from the stranger, hoped he’d get the hint that she wasn’t interested and really wanted to be left alone, “I’m good thank you, I just want to dance with my friends.”
“C’mon, you can spare one dance for me, can’t you?” Anna started to inch herself forward from the other side of the group, ready to pounce if the unwanted attention didn’t remove himself from the situation, she sent her a questioning you good? look and Y/N just nodded.
“I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you.”
The guy manoeuvred himself to stand before her, his body blocked the view of her friends and she felt uncomfortable, in a situation that she had no interest in being in, and although she knew her friends would willingly step in, she wanted to handle this herself. She didn’t need anyone jumping to her aid, she had this covered. “Don’t be so uptight, let’s get you a drink and loosen you up a bit.”
She stopped dancing and stopped trying to be civil, the thought of slapping him across the face had sprung to mind all too quickly and she was more than tempted, not that she wanted to make a scene and get herself kicked out on girls night.
“Seriously, please back off.”
“You women all think you’re so much better than us, don’t you?” The next minute, the guy was pulled swiftly from her line of sight, her quick reaction made her head snap up to see the commotion, and holding a fistful of the offender's shirt was Dean. He looked furious, eyes blazing, like he was ready to punch this guy ten times harder than she would have dared.
“I’m pretty sure the lady wants you to fuck right off, and if you don’t walk away, I’m gonna drag you outside myself and beat your ass,” Dean spat and pushed the guy away, he didn’t even look back before he scarpered off with his tail between his legs.
She faintly heard over the sound of her heart about to beat out of its chest, “That’s Dean.”
A million thoughts swirled around her head, thank you’s and you didn’t have to do that for me and I’m so glad you saved me, but instead she blurted out, “I didn’t need your help, you know? I had it handled.”
“So it seemed, maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to you?”
“No you are.” She couldn’t suppress the laugh she let out at his childish retort and the small pout on his lips, he really was absurd. “Besides, your friends all look pretty busy, and I can’t really blame him for shooting his shot with you, you look really good in that dress.”
She rolled her eyes with extra dramatic flair merely for his benefit, “And there he is, I was wondering when Dean Winchester was going to show up.”
He looked puzzled as he brought his beer bottle to his lips and she tried her hardest not to get distracted by the action, “I don’t get it.”
“You trying to get a rise out of me by pretending to flirt with me.”
“Who said I was pretending, sweetheart? You’re gorgeous, and if you were anyone else but you, just a random girl I’d seen tonight, then I’d probably have tried to pick you up and taken great pleasure in sleeping with you.”
“If I was anyone else? Gee thanks, that’s real sweet of you. So I’m the problem then?”
Y/N’s breath caught as Dean leant in close, the scent of him all consuming in a way that made her want to flee, but also wrap herself around him to breathe him in fully, “You being my best friend’s sister is the problem, Y/N.” She could feel her heart rate starting to increase and the rise and fall of Dean’s chest showed he was in the same predicament, like possibly he was fighting the urge too.
“So if I wasn’t a Lafitte, you’d want me?”
His eyes fluttered and he groaned, his hand gripped her waist and pulled her close to him, “You have no idea.”
“Then do it, pretend I don’t even know Benny.”
“But you do.”
“Pretend, Dean, pretend we’re not who we really are and treat me like a girl you just met that you’re wanting to hook up with.”
“Fuck, you’re dangerous, you know that?”
Dean was certainly no saint, he’d been fighting the urge to say something, dropped subtle hints to her since the night he met her. It was seeing her in her own home and watching her at her most comfortable, bed shorts and tank tops that she’d paid no second thought to wearing, simply making coffee and even cooking for him on the odd occasion he stayed over just because she was making food for Benny and she didn’t want to argue. He just wanted to pick her up and do just about everything he could think of with her, and at first thought, maybe that should have terrified the shit out of him, but he didn’t dare let himself get hopeful because she was pretty clear about what she thought of him, and he knew he’d made the worst first impression on her, he wasn’t sure if she’d let him come back from that.
Her lips were desperately close to his and she was pleading, eyes focused solely on his mouth, no doubt in anyone’s mind that she just wanted to feel it against hers and let him soak up her desperation and eagerness, “Please, before I change my mind.”
Dean couldn’t respond, just claimed her lips with his and pulled her impossibly close, fingers weaved and pulled on her hair and gasps were swallowed down by the other. They were painfully aware of of how public their display was when one of her friends hollered horribly loud in their ears, they pulled away like they’d been burned and with a small wave and a “speak to you tomorrow” she pulled Dean towards the exit of the bar, the pair only stopped momentarily for Dean to gesture at a tall man that Y/N didn’t recognise as a secret exchange, and then they were out of the door.
They’d arrived at his apartment no more than fifteen minutes later, a semi-sobering fresh walk that should have brought them both to their senses, but the walk had only made them both more hungry and fervent for the other. One taste had them thirsty for more and neither one of them were sure how they’d made it home as quickly as they had, a few times they’d stopped to kiss or grope or touch, lost in the feeling of the other.
She hadn’t imagined ending up in Dean’s bed earlier than evening, she’d imagined the bed of some nameless stranger, but there was something so exhilarating having Dean on his knees for her, expertly moving his mouth to bring her pleasure, taking the care that not one other guy had bothered to do for her. He worked her and coaxed her, had her fists balling up his sheets, back arched, hips chasing his tongue and bearing down on him. He moved himself into her in a way that had her whimpering and keening, whining and gasping. It was obscene how good he was at this, she knew it was probably just practice - if what the tales had said about him had been true - but his body moulded around her so divinely. The glow of the streetlight outside of his window illuminated him in a way that made her breath catch. It’s what she’d been thinking about these past few weeks, the thought of him opening her up had brought her to a climax multiple times, but this time was one million times different, this time he was here and not just her imagination.
Y/N couldn’t stop her mind from replaying it over in her head as she heard soft snores from Dean beside her, the thought that he’d had her wrapped around his finger already scared her, he was a quick fuck and that’s all he could ever be, that’s all she could ever allow him to be. What was she thinking sleeping with her brother’s best friend? How could she be so selfish? Benny had had a tough few years, she wouldn’t be the reason he lost his best friend, because she knew if it came down to choosing between them, he’d always choose her.
She slowly and quietly pulled herself from his sheets and pulled on her garments that were spread across his floor, heels in hand, she didn’t even glance back at Dean because the thought alone was a dangerous and painful one. She needed to leave and never think of this, let alone do this, again.
This was all just a drunken mistake. Dean Winchester was just a drunken mistake.
When she’d set off earlier that day to hit one of the few walking trails in Lawrence, ending up stranded in the parking lot of Dad Perry Park wasn’t exactly where Y/N had anticipated being at 5pm on a Friday afternoon. Not only was she exhausted from looping the park twice and breathing in the fresh air on one of her few days off, it was a soothing and head clearing exercise that had been a brilliant thought when she’d set off at noon, but as soon as she twisted her key in the ignition, all of the steam she’d let off over the past few hours returned instantly.
She had no idea how she was going to get home, of course she hadn’t renewed her breakdown cover that ended two weeks ago because apparently that would have been too much of a good idea and she wasn’t afforded one of those right now. Y/N panicked, chest heaving, breath quickening, all for about a minute before she stuck her head in her hands and proceeded to spend the next three minutes crying into her steering wheel. A fleeting moment of clarity washed over her in minute number three and she pulled her phone from the pocket of her running jacket and dialled her brother’s number.
“Hey sis, everything okay?”
“Um, not really. I’m stuck out in Perry Park, my car’s broken down and I’ve got no breakdown cover, is there any chance you can get me from here and then I can sort it out from home?”
“I got a ride into work with one of my buddy’s today and my shifts not over for another two hours. Let me call Dean real quick and he can tow you back home, or at least to the garage and I’ll come get you from there.”
“Dean? As in Dean Winchester? Yeah, no, I’ll pass thanks.”
“You’re not really in the best position to turn down his help right now, are you? Look, he works at Singer’s down the road from us, and he can probably be with you in twenty minutes tops.”
She was so desperate to throw a hissy fit and stamp her feet, desperate to be helped by anyone but Dean, not with how she’d left it the last time she’d seen him, leaving him alone and bailing before they could have a conversation about what they’d done. But she also knew she had limited options, and if he could tow her back home then that solved the situation of getting the car moved. Y/N begrudgingly agreed to let Benny make the call and hung up straight away with a sour, pinched grimace. It was ridiculous how much she dreaded seeing him again, it had been two weeks since they’d last been in contact, two weeks since he’d turn her world upside with some tremendously good sex (she hated him a little bit for being so good and would absolutely not admit it if she were asked), two weeks since she’d slipped out of his bed early in the morning without a word and two weeks of avoiding him every time he set foot in their home, or made plans with her brother. So far so good she thought, or at least it was until the stupid, terrible, no good decision she’d made when she headed to the park that day.
All throughout stewing in her own anger, she’d successfully managed to miss the chime of a new text message, and was only brought out of her self pity and misery by the sharp bang of knuckles on her side window. Her body jolted and she saw the green eyed devil himself inches from the window looking a little pissed off.
She popped the drivers door open and all but waited for him to mercilessly tease her, to say something to wind her up or infuriate her just to get a cheap laugh in, but instead he just folded his arms and altered his expression to one that made her equally want to punch him and the smirk off his gorgeous face.
“You really didn’t have to do this you know? I’m sure you’ve got far better things to do on a Friday evening.”
“Saving a damsel in distress? That’s usually what I spend my time doing anyway. Oh wait, was that okay to say or are gonna argue with me again and get all defensive, maybe you’ll just leave?”
“Not cute, Winchester.”
“I am a little bit.”
Her eyes rolled and she huffed out her impatience, making it evidently clear that she didn’t care for this back and forth, she just wanted to leave the parking lot and head somewhere closer to home.
“You know, you could just say thanks and I can get this all moving along.”
With a silly pout and her hands jammed firmly under her armpit to hold herself together, she uttered a meek, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Lafitte.”
His bicep muscles were a welcome distraction as she watched him attach her vehicle to the back of the tow truck and up onto the flatbed, it was a newfound thrill to view him at work, just another aspect of life where he evidently knew what he was doing with such precision and experience.
“Get in, I’ll drive us back to the garage.”
She swung herself up into the passenger seat and awaited his presence beside her, dread filling her body because she felt stupid and foolish, both for sleeping with him and also for behaving the way she had, she was a fully (or mostly) functioning adult and there was no reason for her to be behaving so irrationally. By the time he started the engine, she’d worked herself up into such a frenzy that she felt like a ball of nervous energy and had to wind down her window to grasp some fresh air.
“Mm hmm, just peachy.”
Dean was quiet for a minute or two, contemplating, his thumbs tapped on the steering wheel in time to the beat on the radio, “Look, can we just get this conversation out of the way and address the elephant in the truck?”
“Do we have to?”
“You can keep burying your head in the sand and trying to avoid me, but we can’t keep doing this forever, you can’t keep leaving a room as soon as I walk in.”
Y/N pouted her lips out towards the open road and folded her arms across her chest petulantly, “I could if I tried really hard.”
“Fine, be a child about it.”
“I don’t get why you’re so bothered, you got to tick me off you’re mental ‘To Fuck’ list, it’s done and yeah, it was a monumentally stupid idea, and it never should have happened, but it did. So let’s just move on.” Y/N heard him click his tongue and saw the shake of his head from the corner of her eye as he laughed incredulously. She didn’t dare turn her head to face him.
“Is that why you bailed before it was even light out?” She winced slightly, the hard edge in his voice made her feel a little guilty but he had no right, he only wanted to use her anyway, didn’t he? Just like she wanted to use him to get herself off.
“Why, would you have made me breakfast and fucked me in your kitchen the next morning?”
“Probably, although I’m not sure why you’re being so crass about it, like you were some conquest that I succeeded at.”
“Well wasn’t I?”
“Christ, either someones done a real number on you or you really do think I’m a piece of shit.”
Y/N kept her mouth shut, she didn’t trust herself to not spout apologies. Her eyes wandered over to his hands gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles showed more white than she’d been expecting, his grip was tight and she knew immediately that she’d crossed a line, why was she being so cruel to him? She followed the line of his arms and up to his biceps, his neck, the hardened clench of his jaw, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.
Her voice came out small, she didn’t want to anger him further, or hurt him more, if that’s how he felt, “I’m sorry.”
Dean sighed and kept facing forward, they were near to the garage and he didn’t want to do this whilst he was driving, worried of the danger, and mostly worried of hurting her even though she didn’t seem to have such qualms about doing the same to him. He pulled into the garage and left the truck as fast as he could, unloaded her car as she stepped to the side, unable to stop herself from watching him as he did so. Y/N was lost in the way his biceps clenched, his fingers curled and flexed, pulled and pushed, like a well choreographed and orchestrated dance, she felt herself craving him all over again and she was ashamed, ashamed of her behaviour and ashamed of how desperate she was for him again.
He’d been quiet for a while and she’d expected him to ignore her until he either fixed her car, drove her home or Benny appeared to take her home himself. Somehow she knew whatever happened though, he wouldn’t leave her alone to get home, no matter what the circumstances. He took a brief look at her and motioned with his head for her to follow him into the back office. Y/N obediently followed after him and decided to play this properly, be an adult about it and own up to the part she had to play in this situation, her back straight against the wall and arms now again crossed. The sound of his voice startled her, her head snapped up to look at him.
Dean perched himself on the edge of the desk, his armed folded too, the pair seeming closed off, but he sighed and sounded frustrated, “Maybe I took advantage of you, maybe I just really wanted to sleep with you - I really did by the way - so I guess I should be sorry too.”
“We’re both consenting adults, you didn’t take advantage of me, of that I’m sure. I really wanted it too.”
“Sweetheart, you’re giving me mixed signals here, should I be sorry for my part in this or not?’
“No, you shouldn’t be.” The intensity in their gaze strengthened and the heat rose, they both looked on the verge of breaking and pouncing, but it was a dangerous game, making that mistake twice.
“Then what’s the problem? If I remember correctly, it’s you who insisted, I was the one who kept saying no, we shouldn’t do this, but you practically begged me.”
“I-It’s just, the first time I met you I thought you were pretty good looking, and then you had to open your mouth, dear god I wish you hadn’t, that fucked everything up.”
“It looks like we do have something in common after all.”
“Oh bite me, Winchester.”
He pushed off from the desk and leant in unbearably close to her, hands pressed flat to the wall beside her head, caging her and breath curling and tickling around her ear, “I would sweetheart, but I don’t fancy giving you what you want.”
Her breath shook and she clenched her jaw, a puff of air escaping her mouth in aggravation, “Fuck. You.”
Dean slipped his hand between them, the tip of his forefinger teasingly trailing down the length of her torso, nail catching just above the waistband of her workout pants. He kept his gaze locked onto hers with an infuriating smirk as he slipped his hand between the waistband, four fingers, then the thumb, slowly, slowly, teasing. Her hips arched, pelvis seeking his fingers, wanting him to do something, just stop the torturously slow pace he was maintaining, she was so highly strung that she whined when his first finger came into contact with her clit, “Patience darling, slow and steady wins the race.”
“You are such a - fuckfuckfuck.” His middle finger slid further back through the wetness of her folds and without warning slipped right into her, a quick jerk of his wrist and a twinkle in his eye that told him he was enjoying this a lot more than he’d dare to let onto. Dean was growing oh so fond of watching her head curl back, her eyes going from a challenging glare to oh fuck I need this, I need you, the way her body gripped tight of anything he’d give her, his fingers, his tongue, his cock, his words, anything he’d be open enough to let her have, she fed off of it even if it was just for a sexual release.
“I’m a what?” He watched on as she pushed on the elastic around her waist until her pants became loose and dropped down her legs, watched as she widened her thighs and pulled his hand closer, silently begging for more of him to open her up and make her feel fuller. Dean hadn’t realised he’d been suppressing a deep groan until it escaped his lips and another finger, two, were pressed into her and had her whining and pulling on his head so her gasps and pants were felt around his ears and swirling around his brain. God what he’d give to have her like this day in, day out, who gave a fuck if she was Benny’s sister?
She made quick work of the fastening on his jeans, frantically pushing at them so they released further down his thighs and he was just as much on display for her as she was for him, “Did I make you speechless baby?”
“Just fuck me Dean, I’m literally begging you.”
And who was Dean Winchester if not an obliging fine young gentleman?
Months had passed since she’d last been out on a date, every one almost as disappointing as the last. This one she had a good feeling about though, he was handsome but not in cocky way, seemed like he looked after himself, conversation at the bar had flowed easily enough and she let herself hope for a positive outcome for once. And she sure hoped she wouldn’t be going home alone, or at all for that matter, especially not when she knew Dean was downstairs at that very moment and would be staying the night, it was too much of a head fuck for her to come to terms with after spending the evening with another man. She didn’t want to see the infuriating smirk on his face if she came home unsatisfied, the way he’d tease and taunt her until she became pliable and putty in his hands - because without a doubt, Dean Winchester would make her fall apart just to prove a point. He was a Grade A asshole like that. But he was also far nicer and funnier and kinder than she’d ever dare to admit and that made her head spin a little.
Y/N finalised her make up, a last lick of mascara across her lashes, a swipe of lipstick to her lips, and she was ready to go. Her skirt swished against her knees and her modest heeled sandals made a clack, clack, clack, sound as she descended the wooden stairs, it sounded like she’d wanted to draw attention to herself when in reality she’d wanted to scarper quickly before any of Benny’s friends even noticed she was there. She was so close to making it out of the door but her brother had collared her before she’d made it that far, “Y/N, are you off out?”
She inwardly groaned and spun on her heel to enter the living room, a few heads shot up to her and gave her appreciative looks before they turned back to their conversations and the game that was playing on television.
“Yeah, not sure how the evening will go so don’t wait up for me, hopefully I won’t be home until morning.” She grinned cheekily at her brother but he just winced and shuddered, horrified at the thought of his sister in any sexual encounter, “Gross” muttered from his lips.
Y/N just laughed and went to turn, her eyes caught Dean’s gaze for a moment and she saw a pinched smile on his face, jaw hardened and clenched, but she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on that reaction for even a moment, she knew how weakened she had become around him and she wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction of knowing he had her wrapped around his little finger.
Without a second glance, she left the room and promptly walked out of the house.
After a solid hour of waiting for a guy that was evidently never going to show, Y/N had found herself calling for her best friend to come and rescue her. She wasn’t sure whether she was more upset or furious that she’d been stood up with no apology text or a sorry I don’t want to do this, it was really shitty move and she felt utterly foolish for sitting alone with the hope that he was just running late. Anna pulled up beside her in the parking lot of the restaurant Y/N had been waiting at and motioned for her to get in, the night was still young and there wasn’t a hope in hell that Y/N was prepared to waste a cute dress and face full of make-up when given the opportunity, no, she’d make the most of what had happened and drink and flirt the rest of the night away with whatever attractive guy came her way. She owed that to herself.
It was pushing on for eleven pm when Anna showed up at Benny’s with Y/N propped up against her, a firm grip on her friend to stop the other woman from hitting the floor. Anna had tried her best to get a few glasses of water in Y/N’s system before she drove them both back from the bar, and whilst she’d seen her friend starting to sober up a little, she didn’t dare let go of her without someone to catch her. Dean had jumped up to join Benny at the front door when he overheard the state Y/N was in, with the help of his friend they both led her into the living room and softly planted her on the sofa to stabilise her.
Dean couldn’t help but notice how tired and down she looked, her lazy smile dropped off her face when she took Dean in, full realisation that he’d seen her like this and had jumped to her aid. She scowled at him and turned her head away, eyes closed whilst she waited for her brother to return from seeing her best friend out. Dean just weakly sighed and left the room to grab her a glass of water from the kitchen and half smiled when he passed Benny in the hallway who was heading back to the living room, “Good luck.”
He knew he shouldn’t listen in on their conversation, knew she’d never be comfortable with him knowing intimate things about her or a likely confession to her brother for why she was in such a state and why she came home heavily intoxicated on the arm of her friend when she’d left earlier that night for a date. But he was so worried about her, this wasn’t the woman he’d come to know, and god damn if he didn’t want to help her out of this and do just about anything to put a smile back on her face. From the doorway, he could hear her blasé recount of the shit show that was her non-existent date and how she was fed up of being disappointed by men, “they’re all the fucking same,” she grumbled, he knew Benny wouldn’t take offence. There was little anger or upset in her voice, she just sounded tired and defeated, like there wasn’t much energy or fight left in her to feel anything.
“I’m going to bed, we can talk about this in the morning, or never.” He heard the shuffle of her footsteps and retreated back to the kitchen to disguise the fact he’d listened in on their conversation. After the click of her bedroom door shutting, Dean headed back in to find Benny reclined in his seat and taking a long swig of his beer.
“Is she okay?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure anymore.”
“I’m sure, after a good night's sleep, whatever it is won’t be as bad in the morning.”
“I hope so, I really really do. I’ve not seen her like this for a long time, not since that wanker of an ex.”
Benny sighed and rubbed his palm over his face, “He totally fucked with her head, you know? She’d had a few boyfriends, nothing too serious, didn’t last all that long. And then one day she came home with this guy, Mark, we could all tell he was bad news right from the get go. He’d been a little possessive, started answering for her, it was all relatively subtle but we’d all been quick to pick up on it, up until she moved in with him and then we barely saw or heard from her, she just went dark, and when we did see her, she was barely recognisable. I thought I’d lost my sister for good. He was good at draining her, and making her reliant on him, I don’t think it was anything sinister, he just liked control and she became easy to manipulate.”
Benny looked like he wanted to crack, the talk of his sister changing was evidently a painful memory to rehash, they were close siblings before all this, much like him and Sammy, and he knew he’d do anything to protect his little brother. His friend licked his lips and cleared his throat of the emotion that had started to bubble.
“She’s so strong willed and I think that’s why she busted your balls that night she met you. The best thing that happened was her making some new friends at work who she actually listened to, and they were able to make her see the situation she was in. She wouldn’t listen to family - which I’m fine with now - but they got her to see and she straight up told him one night that she wouldn’t let him do this to her anymore, and he just let her walk out. He wasn’t violent - at least I don’t think he ever was - it was purely about being able to control someone and to have someone be dependent on him, I just don’t think he realised how much he’d fucked her up. I know he’s tried to contact her, she wouldn’t tell me, but I’ve seen the odd text message on her phone when it’s lit up on the table. So that’s why she came to live with me, I wanted her here and safe where I could take care of her and she wanted someone she could trust. The alternative was my parents but they would have been far too overbearing as she wouldn’t have been able to handle that. I just sort of wanna wrap her up in cotton wool and protect her.”
Dean was just floored, he couldn’t imagine this happening to Y/N, she was the most passionate and determined person he’d ever met and tonight was the first time in seven months that he’d seen that vulnerable side of her. He too wanted to swaddle her in cotton wool and keep her safe, stop any other asshole from hurting her again, because she didn’t deserve that, no one did, but least of all, her.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at Benny, his own feelings were all over the place but he didn’t think he had any right to any of those, so he just picked at the label on his bottle, working it over with his nail, “She’s pretty lucky to have you, and your family and her friends around her, god knows that’s what she needs after all that shit. I’m sorry that all of you went through that.”
“Yeah, we’re all lucky in the end, I guess,” the other man clapped his thighs and stood up with a stretch, “but I’m beat and I pretty much just dumped all of that on you, which really wasn’t my story to tell, so I’m headed to bed. You know where the blankets and pillows are, help yourself.
He clapped Dean on the shoulder on his way out and gave him a half smile which came out more like a grimace. “See you in the morning, man.”
Dean allowed himself a few minutes to mull over what he’d been told, without a doubt he knew he shouldn’t know any of what Benny had told him, he didn’t have the right to, and it made him feel more terrible that he’d been hooking up with her whenever they just wanted to blow off steam or they had gotten too drunk. It had happened far too many times to mention. She deserved more than that, more than just some sex here and there, she deserved a real relationship with someone who loved her and would try to give her everything. He wanted that for her, he wanted to be the one to give her that, but Dean Winchester wasn’t the man who deserved her.
He pulled himself up to head to the upstairs bathroom before he got settled on the sofa for the night, but he couldn’t fail to hear the sniffles and grunts that came from Y/N’s room as he passed, he shouldn’t go in there, he was the last person she’d want to see if her reaction to him earlier had been any indication, but he couldn’t leave her like this. Before he could think it over, he knocked at her door and let himself in without an answer. The look on her face made him want to scoop her up and hold her tight, but he resisted the urge, he just watched her curled up on her bed from the doorway and pushed the door shut behind him.
“What are you doing here?
“I wanted to check on you, see if you were okay.”
Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, her fists clutched her pillow tighter, “What do you care?”
He perched himself on her small stool in the corner of the room, closest to her bed, his hands fastened together between his knees whilst he pondered his next response. He couldn’t bring himself to rattle off all of the reasons why he cared and why he hated to see her so torn up, just pursed his lips and sucked the bottom between his teeth over and over, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?”
“Please? How can I help? Tell me what to do,” Dean spoke, sounding pained.
“I got stood up, okay? Are you happy? Gonna have a good laugh about it?”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
Dean was hurt that she’d even suggest he’d react that way, he knew she didn’t have a particularly high opinion of him, but he thought she knew him better than that, knew he cared about her even the slightest bit.
“Because it makes me look even more pathetic. I’d probably laugh if I were in your shoes.”
“You’re not pathetic, sweetheart.”
“I am, I have three failed relationships, a handful of shitty one night stands, a no show date and the only guy that’ll sleep with me will also sleep with just about anyone.”
“I sleep with you because I want to. Those other assholes don’t deserve you, none of them.” Dean wasn’t sure about a lot of things, but that was the one thing he’d bet his home and his beloved car on.
“And you do?” She fired back, he could see she torn between letting this conversation slide by and fighting him on it. Y/N pulled herself up so she was sat on her knees facing him and shot him a hard glare, her mouth downturned to a look of disdain like she thought he was full of shit.
“Definitely not, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”
“You want to get your dick wet, is that it?”
“Usually, but you, I want you far more than that, Y/N.” Instinctively he moved himself and sat on the edge of her bed just to be nearer to her, hoped she’d pick up on this nervous yet hopeful energy filling him because he was around her and being more honest than he’d ever been with her. She was hesitant to be near him and she tilted back for a split second before she chose to stay right where she was.
“Course you do, just like everyone else, huh?”
“You have no idea how people look at you, everyone either wants you or wants to be you.”
“Then why am I always alone at the end of the day?”
“Can we just talk about this tomorrow when you’re sober? Let’s just get you into bed.”
“Please Dean. Please just treat me like you want me. For just one night.” She looked sorrowful, eyes full of sadness and desperation, lost and broken. She was someone who just wanted to be loved, even temporarily. Even just for a few hours.
She leant forward and pulled him close, hands cradling his head, and pushed her lips onto his. Dean gave in for a beat or two, he let their mouths mould and temptation got the better of his judgement. He was quick to pull back though, he couldn’t do this, not when she had this much alcohol in her system, not when she was this vulnerable and upset and hurt.
Dean held her hands in his and looked regretful, full of remorse. If the situation was different he’d want nothing more than to make love to her all night long, kiss her until she was breathless, show her just how much she meant to him and how beautiful she really was. But it wasn’t, and he didn’t want to be a mistake to her, and he never wanted anything about her to be a mistake for him.
“What did I do?” Her eyes, wide and watery, pleading with him to make her feel better again. She wanted him to make her forget about the asshole who left her sitting on her own for a full hour, who made her feel useless and worthless.
He held her face between his palms and spoke softly, desperate for her to understand that he meant every word, “You did nothing, sweetheart, I just can’t do this.” Not right now.
“Why don’t you want me? Why can’t you pretend?”
“I want you, so fucking much, but not like this.”
“Then get out.”
“Y/N - please, don’t be angry.”
“Get the fuck out of my house, if you won’t fuck me then what’s the use of you being here?”
Dean felt physically winded, like suddenly her hurtful words had made it harder to breathe, but he couldn’t blame her, not really. Not when she was in this state, not when he’d given her no reason to see him as anything more than a late night conquest, or an acquaintance with benefits at best.
He leant forward and kissed her forehead, she didn’t put up a fight despite her balled up fists and hard glare.
“You’ll thank me in the morning.”
And then he left, if it hadn’t have been for the few beers and the one small measure of whiskey he’d consumed earlier in the evening, he’d have headed home immediately, but instead he lay himself down on the Lafitte’s sofa under a blanket and stared at the ceiling for most of the early hours.
What he didn’t know, as he lay there worrying about the woman he felt too much for, was Y/N had sent a fateful text to the one person she vowed never to give into again.
Think we should meet up tomorrow, one night for old times sake?
I thought you’d never come around to the idea.
Don’t make me change my mind.
Dean had already left the following morning before either Benny or Y/N rose or before Y/N had had a chance to see her most recent text.
Can’t wait to have you all to myself again, baby.
“Look, I gotta ask, is there a reason you’re here drinking alone and my sister’s at home crying over chick flicks? Doesn’t seem like much of a coincidence to me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, I barely know Y/N, what’s it got to do with me?”
“Cut the shit Dean, she told me what’s been going on between the two of you,” Dean shot him an apprehensive grimace but Benny just raised his hands defensively, “no judgement, you’re both adults and as much as I hate to see her upset, it seems she’s had her part to play in this too.”
“It was stupid, I was stupid.”
“I let her in, I never let people in.” Dean laughed bitterly, lips curled around the aftertaste of the four glasses of whiskey he’d knocked back, “she got under my skin, I tried fighting it for so long but at some point I guess I just - stopped - trying and I started trusting her. But she was never mine, I was stupid to think otherwise.”
“If you don’t see that she’s besotted with you, then you’re even dumber than you look, Winchester.” Dean opened his mouth to argue, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be, she can’t have been so obvious that even Benny had noticed. “Look, I’ve played dumb to all of this for months, I knew there was something going on, you did pretty well to hide it but there’s no denying the way you look at each other.”
“If she was that bothered about me then she wouldn’t be trying to push me away, she wouldn’t be trying to jump into dating someone else or sleeping with her ex-fucking-boyfriend.” Every time the thought crossed Dean’s mind, he wanted to throw up, the very thought was piercing and cruel and awful. It wasn’t because of his bruised ego or the woman he adored being with another man, it was the fact she’d put herself in a horrible situation, with a man that had the power to break her - and almost had - all because she thought it was the better alternative to Dean.
“You mean like she did with you?”
“Touché. She always made it clear - or at least that’s how I took it - that she just wanted sex, that’s all she thought I was good for, and I get that she thought I was easy, but I kept hoping she’d see it was all an act, that it was all a front.”
“My sister’s a tough nut to crack, had her heart broken few too many times, you know the story now, she’s too trusting and kind hearted. So she toughened up, it was survival mode to prevent herself from being hurt again, or to at least try not to get hurt. But I’ve seen her around you, how she’s trying really hard to keep her guard up, like she’s a little bit afraid you’ll hurt her too because she knows how you go through women - again, no judgement - but doesn’t she have the right to be cautious?”
“Of course she does, I would too, but I’ve tried harder with her, I keep finding my way back to her even when I know it’s a bad idea. God, if there’s one person in this world that I couldn’t bear to hurt, it’s her. The thought of it just knocks me sick, and I know she deserves someone far better than me, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting her. This is so fucking weird because she’s your sister, but she makes me want to be a better person, to become the person she deserves even though I know I’m a long way off.”
“You’re a lot closer than you think. Look, I get why you are the way you are with women, you’ve had a shitty past with relationships too, and no matter what you say, you’re a bit afraid, but you’re also a good guy, you’re my best friend for a reason, okay? I know you care for those around you, regardless of how cocky you might get, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt Y/N, because that’s not who you are. I only ever hoped that someone would see her the way you do, would let her in and want to take care of her like she deserves, and Dean? If there was anyone that I’d trust with her, it would be you, and I do trust you, you guys just have to make this right because I can’t have both of you tearing yourself apart because you’re idiots who can’t communicate your feelings properly.”
“You’re right, I’ll sort this out. And for all that you said? Thanks man, I didn’t realise I needed that until you came out with it, she means more to me than I think anyone realises, and I promise I’ll try my best to make her happy again.”
“That’s all I can ask for. I’m gonna make myself scarce for the evening, let me drive you to ours at the end of my shift and then I’ll leave you guys in peace.”
“You’re too good of a man, Benny. You’re just like your sister.”
“Despite your past and what happened with your folks, you and Sam turned out good too, don’t forget that.”
He wanted to ask Benny how he was coping with Y/N having been with Mark the night before, comfort him and reassure him that he’d never do that to Y/N, because he knew he’d never behave that way. He’d had a tricky romantic past, but Christ, when he was in a relationship, he was all in. Full of kind heartedness, brimming with love and the nicest of gentlemen, he treated his girlfriends, and that one ex-fiance, very well, it was them who weren’t quite so kind. But Dean couldn’t sit around any longer, he needed to see Y/N and apologise for all of the things that he’d had a hand in that had steered them in the wrong direction, whatever it was that he did to drive her into the arms of the wrong man.
Because the thing was, he’d come to the startling realisation whilst staring at the patchy white painted ceiling of the Lafitte’s living room, at 4am the morning before, that he was ardently in love with her, and he could barely breathe at how much wanted her, and how he needed her to know that, to know that she hadn’t been just a bed warmer for all these months, she was the love of his life.
“You ready to go? I’ve just gotta clock out and grab my jacket, meet you out front?” Dean just smiled appreciatively at his friend and watched him wander into the back of the bar. He drained the last of his glass of whiskey and shakily got to feet, it wasn’t the drink that made him uneven, he’d only had two, it was the nerves starting to hit him full force. What if she kicked him out again and wouldn’t listen to him? What if she heard him out but didn’t feel the same and only wanted him for the ways she thought he wanted her? What if, what if, what if?
He thought back to that morning on the short journey to Benny’s, neither of them were talkative, Dean suspected it had something to do with the other man letting him gather his thoughts, expected him to be too nervous to make idle chit chat after the heavy conversations they’d been having lately. The flashback memory made him shudder and worry his bottom lip between his teeth.
He’d been on his way to the garage that morning when Dean realised he was missing his wallet, in a frantic panic, he ransacked his car and drove almost all the way home. It was only as he turned into his street that he recalled last seeing it at Benny’s the other night, not having reason to use his wallet at all the next day, he’d not given it a second thought. Dean had jumped back into his trusted Chevy and sped over to his friend's home. He wouldn’t be able to stop off to grab breakfast on-the-go this morning, he just hoped he’d made it to work on time because he was the one supposed to be opening up.
Of all mornings, he kept grumbling to himself, of all mornings to realise he was missing his wallet which had his ID in it needed for the inspection that day. Great fucking timing to pick vacation time, Bobby. He was still grumbling to himself when he wandered up the path the house, only stopping when he quite literally bumped in Y/N heading to her door from the other side of the driveway, heavy black smudges around her eyes, hair that looked as if she’d made a feeble attempt to control it but hadn’t succeeded, and an outfit not fit for morning attire. With a metaphorical gut punch, he realised what he’d witnessed, it was evidently the walk of shame.
And fuck, Dean had never witnessed something he had hated more.
“Dean. What are - um - what are you doing here?”
“Just came for my wallet.”
She flinched, startled by his matter-of-fact tone, it sounded so out of character, harsh coming from his lips. But he couldn’t care about that right now, not when she’d clearly been with someone else the night before. A mere 24 hours after she’d all but begged him to fuck her and put her back together. He’d never felt so low about himself, he couldn’t even bear to look at her.
“Let’s go in - can we talk? Over coffee perhaps?” Y/N looked jittery, uncomfortable, and Dean briefly expected her to bolt and flee from the scene. She, however, couldn’t keep her eyes off of Dean, watched him for any reaction and he could just feel her eyes on him, burning through him. He knew she wanted to talk about this, about their last argument, but he just couldn’t do it, work or not. At least not yet, he had to process this and figure out what the hell was going on in his own head first.
“I’ve gotta get to work, can’t be late.”
“Another time, just not now, okay?” He grabbed his wallet from under the coffee table where he’d left his shoes the other night and his eyes flitted to meet hers for a moment, and honestly, he wished he hadn’t. Her eyes were glossy and she looked like she was about to break any minute, it was too much, heartbreaking, devastating, ruining. But what could he do? He just softly shook his head and walked out of the door without glancing back.
Last night was a mistake, I can’t do that again, Mark. I don’t want to ever see you again.
Dean dropped his phone in the dirt and smashed up an old project car he’d been working on when he received a text message from her that definitely wasn’t meant for him. What a fucking gigantic mess.
“Just go in there, trust me, everything will be fine,” Benny gave him a gentle shove towards the stairs and Dean was about three seconds from darting to the bathroom and throwing his guts up. Not once, in all of his years, had he been this nervous because of a girl, he felt utterly absurd and childish, kept trying to rationalise this and telling himself to man up, but on the other side of the door was a woman who had the ability to break his heart worse than any woman had done before. He glanced over the banister to Benny who just smiled with his thumbs up and then swiftly shut the front door behind him.
Fuck. It’s now or never, Winchester.
He tentatively knocked his knuckles against her bedroom door, waves of the other night washing over him again.
“Not now Benny, please.” Her small, broken sounding voice trailed through the wood and Dean’s heart clenched uncomfortably.
“It’s - um - it’s Dean.”
Silence followed and dread filled Dean like a bath on the brink of overflowing, worst case scenario. The door took the weight of him resting his forehead against it, slumping against the varnished wood in a silent plea that she couldn’t see, but he wanted her to feel his presence there, wanted her to beware that he wasn’t going anywhere, not this time. Not again.
The door handle rattled and a second later the door moved beneath him, it opened up to reveal Y/N looking as devastated as he felt, and no matter what had happened between them, what had taken place that morning, the night before, and many times prior, Dean couldn’t even register that, he’d just scooped her up in his arms and cradled her tightly against his chest as she cried. It felt like second nature the way she curled around him, clung on like he was a life raft in the middle of a choppy sea, her saviour and protector, the thing that would lead her back to shore and even ground.
“You came back.”
She lifted her head from his chest to look at him properly, her arms still fastened securely around his torso, “Can you forgive me?”
Dean ran his thumbs over her cheeks and under her eyes to dry her tears, “Why would I need to? You did nothing wrong. We weren’t ever… Together.”
“Still. I was yours. And I… Please.”
Dean didn’t want to resist the urge to kiss her forehead so he didn’t, just let his lips linger momentarily, “And I was yours, I thought already you knew that.”
“I never would have done what I did to you if I had.”
“I’m not hurt by that, not now, I’m devastated that you went back to him, if it had been some stranger then that’s one thing, but you chose the person who hurt you the most.”
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked confused, it wasn’t a story she’d told him, not a story she’d willingly told anyone since it had happened, and she didn’t think her and Dean would ever be at a point where she confided in him about her past, “How did you-?“
“Benny. He told me all about what happened the other night, how this guy messed with your head, after all that, why did you choose him of all people?”
“I just- it was stupid. That night, I thought you didn’t want me, you were saying all these things like how much you cared about me, but then you wouldn’t sleep with me, and I thought ‘what do we have if it’s nothing physical?’” Dean grimaced, “No - don’t look at me like that. I know we have something more than that now, but I didn’t think you wanted me for anything other than sex, and when you turned me down I felt stupid. Mark, he’s um, he’s been texting me for a few months trying to get me to meet up with him and I didn’t want to do it, but he kept telling me how much he missed me and how sorry he was, and all I could think was ‘here’s someone who wants me, so why not take him up on it?’. I know now that it was a ridiculously stupid thing to do, but I sent him a text that night when I’d had too much to drink, and by morning I was too embarrassed at the thought of me throwing myself at you, I was sure you’d want nothing more to do with me, so he still seemed like a good option - or rather my only option.”
“Sweetheart, I wish you’d just come to me, I could have made this right.”
“I looked for you the next morning but you’d already left, it felt like I’d really blown it when I realised you couldn’t be in the same place as me.”
“I’m sorry, I needed to get out of there, I couldn’t stop running over the whole thing in my head, and add what Benny had told me on top that, I didn’t think me being there would help the situation any.”
Dean watched the grin that started to spread across her face, her skin flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and giddiness, “We’re both shit at communication, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, we’ve really gotta work on that.”
“After all of this, do you still want me?”
“It’s gonna take hell of a lot more than this to stop me from wanting you, Y/N. All of you.”
“You’re really incredible, you know that, right?” No, you’re incredible.
“I wouldn’t go the far, but I could stand to hear that every now and again.”
“Baby, you’re incredible.”
“Can I kiss you now? Like a real I’m really fucking into you and want to kiss you until you’re breathless kind of kiss?”
“Please, god please do that.”
All of the emotion, the vast range of feelings and emotions that had been building and mounting and increasing over the better part of the past year, all culminated with love and joy. They could help heal each other. They kissed with all of the passion they could muster, varied in hurried and slowed paces, re-learning each other all over again, but right this time, how it should have been all along. He stripped her down, worked her over, thighs parted, slow and tender kisses pressed to every inch of each others skin, down down down, opening up and breathing in, marking each other figuratively and literally. They made love, properly for the first time, because they were in love, even if they hadn’t let those words form themselves and let them out into the open, they both knew, there was no mistaking it.
When they both fell over the edge, they were overwhelmed. Everything about their future seemed euphoric and hopeful. Their start may not have been the meet-cute they’d expected, but their ending was a long way in the future. Where they were right now was all that mattered. Everything else was irrelevant.
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Fics of 2020 - Masterlist
Words Shared: 402,493
Words Written: 501,289
Favourite Fic: Living Your Life - Jensen x Reader
Favourite Series: Owe You One - Dean x Reader
Goal for 2021: 500,000 words and to complete ALL my bingo cards. Read more!
A big thank you to everyone who read through all of those words! Even bigger thank you to those who left their own words behind on each one. Y’all are amazing and there is a day that goes by that I don’t appreciate each and every one of you. 💜
Fitting a Square into a Circle - Dean x Reader
~~After a hunt with an old friend goes a little different than you planned, you make a call to the Winchester’s to help you out of a nasty situation. A situation that leaves you with more wounds than anyone really knew about. Square Filled: Dean Winchester for @spngenrebingo
Another Year - Dean x Reader
~~ It’s January 24th. You are awaiting the arrival of the Winchester brothers from a hunt so you can begin celebrating Dean’s birthday. When they do get home, things don’t quite go to plan. Squares Filled: Cuddling ( @spndeanbingo) Bed Sharing ( @spnfluffbingo) Kisses ( @spngenrebingo) Thigh Riding ( @spnkinkbingo)
Valentines Day Sucks - Jensen x Reader
~~Another Valentine’s Day has arrived. You are awaiting your fiancee, only to be stood up. Your best friend comes to the rescue unexpectedly with one of the same issues. Who knew two break ups on Hallmarks favourite holiday would result in some one on one time with someone you had been pushing your feelings down for. Square Filled: Post Break up AU ( @spnfluffbingo) Friends to Lovers ( @spngenrebingo) Accidental Kiss ( @spndeanbingo) Coitus Interruptus ( @spnkinkbingo)
A Night on the Town - Jensen x Reader
~~You’re attending your first Supernatural convention with your friends, only they ditch you to go out to a different bar. You are stuck waiting for them when an unfortunate event drives you out of a bar and straight to a man that you never expected to meet this way. Square Filled: Jensen Ackles ( @spngenrebingo) One Night Stand ( @spnkinkbingo)
The Man on the Side of the Road (Masterlist) - Dean x Reader
~~Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.
End the Night- Jensen x Reader
~~On a stormy Sunday evening, Jensen ends his birthday with his girlfriend who has something special to share with him. Squares Filled: Birthday ( @spngenrebingo) Laughing together ( @spnfluffbingo)
Owe You One - Dean x Reader (series)
~~Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?
Isolation - Dean x Reader
~~ When the croatoan virus takes over half the country, you haul ass to the bunker where your two best friends are to keep you safe. Only, one of them you have had feelings for and the other keeps encouraging you to tell him.
Squares Filled: The Bunker (spndeanbingo) Cuddling (SPNFluffBingo)
D.W. - Dean x Reader
~~The reader ended things with Dean suddenly six months ago. A tragic fire leaves her in the hospital with one pissed off Winchester and a heartbroken brother who just wants to figure out why.
Squares filled: Tattoo (spnkinkbingo) Playing Pretend (spngenrebingo)
Here For the Weekend - Dean x Reader
~~You and Dean met on a dating app ten years after you last saw each other. The two of you matched and became close again, getting off to the sight of each other. Only, it’s not enough for you anymore and you have to decide whether to tell him how you feel or move on.
Squares Filled: Masturbation (spnkinkbingo) Long Distance Relationship (spngenrebingo)
Poison - Jensen x Reader
~~ An abrupt end to a friendship leaves you shattered inside. Words ringing in your head, over and over again. It takes it’s toll and damn near tears you in two. With the help of someone close to you, the words become whispers, and the wounds slowly begin to heal.
Square filled: Caught Red Handed (spnfluffbingo)
Seeing You Again - Jensen x Reader
~~Fifteen years had passed since you had seen the love of your life, Jensen Ackles. Your childhood sweetheart, the man of your dreams. The two of you separated against your wishes. Until he walks into your bakery one day without knowing you owned it. You never expected old feelings to resurface, let alone something more
Squares filled: Childhood Sweethearts (Spnfluff) First time (spngenre)
Been Hurt Before - Dean x Reader
~~You come face to face with your past in one of the least expected places. The face of trauma leaves you feeling like you had been toppled over. The biggest problem of all? Dean doesn’t know about your past and you don’t want him to see you any differently. Squares Filled: Angst to fluff (Spngenre)
~~After a hunt gone wrong, you take Dean up on the extremely useful arrangement you both agreed on many years ago to help you get through the night.
Squares filled: Hurt/Comfort ( @spngenrebingo) Hunt Gone Wrong ( @spndeanbingo)
Two Weeks Notice - Jensen x Reader
~~ You’d think that working on the same set for six years would make you feel accomplished… not feeling like you don’t fit in anymore.
Square filled: Friendship (Dean Bingo)
One Mistake - Dean x Reader
~~the reader and the boys are on a witch hunt and the witch made a spell so the reader sees her dead family members and it’s driving her crazy,and dean helps her get through it and they confess they love each other?
Square Filled: Case!Fic (Dean)
Chocolate and Vanilla - Jensen x Reader
~~Jensen sets his best friend up on a blind date to get her back out in the dating world. Little does she know, the man he had in mind was someone that she could see a future with. Squares Filled: Handholding (Fluff) Friends to lovers (Dean)
Personal Assistant - Jensen x Reader
~~It’s review and raise week on set and you’re looking forward to yours. Only when you get yours, your whole world is flipped around followed by a week of hell. It isn’t until Jensen takes notice that you’re a little off that something gets done about it.
Squares Filled: Free Space (Fluff) Hugs (Dean)
This Feeling - Jensen x Reader
~~Depression and Anxiety are the world’s best team when it comes to taking you down. Your head convinces you of things that aren’t always true. Your best friend Jensen is there to remind you of that.
Square Filled: Free Space (Dean)
Know How it Feels - Dean x Reader
~~Normally, your monthly visitor is something you can handle and the boys can’t. An early period brings you a lot more pain than you anticipated. To Sam, it’s just cramps. Dean has a little more concern. Neither of them really know what it’s like to get your period and everything that comes along with it.
Squares Filled: Mutual Pining (Dean) Playing with their Hair (Fluff)
Some Kind of Sadness - Jensen x Reader
~~A Friday night shift at the coffee shop brings you an unexpected customer with a lot more than a cup of coffee on his mind. Squared Filled: Coffee Shop AU (Dean)
Nothing like Heart Break - Jensen x Reader
~~Tonight was the night you were finally going to meet the guy you had been talking to online for the last six months. The person you least expected showed up, leaving you speechless before taking off and heading home to your roommate, who has a few choice words to share.
Squares filled: Feelings Accidently Revealed (Fluff) Online Dating (Genre) Roommates (Dean)
Living Your Life - Jensen x Reader
~~A tragic accident leaves you on the side of the road, not daring to look down at the warm sensation your body is feeling. The only thing on your mind is the man you walked away from over a stupid fight. The feeling of regret is almost stronger than the pain from the injuries you sustained.
Squared Filled: Engagement (Fluff)
Fragile Heart - Dean x Reader
~~You’re out celebrating your new job with your two best friends. When you part ways, you find an attractive man sitting next to you. A man who you have more than a few things in common with, along with an attraction to one another that could get you into trouble. Squares Filled: One Night Stand with New Boss (Fluff)
One and One Make Three - Home for the Holidays
~~Jensen and the Reader are headed to New York to spend their first Christmas together as a couple with the Y/L/N’s. Jensen learns something about the Reader that has him wondering about any other hidden secrets.
All I Ever Wanted - Dean x Reader
~~You had been staying with the Winchester’s since the beginning of the quarantine. A nice, safe place to stay with your favourite people. After months of being stuck at home, you’re really missing out on hugs and affection and you’re wondering if you were wearing out your welcome in the Bunker.
Jensen Hugs - Jensen x Reader
~~A tough day has you calling your best friend Jensen for some much needed hugs.
Reasons to Keep Going - Jensen x Reader (Jensen’s POV)
~~Jensen heads home after a long day of shooting to celebrate the remain hour of October 23rd with his girl. A day that quickly became so significant in their relationship that they look back on it in detail as a reminder of how far one of them has come.
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Use Your Brain, part 7
This chapter is a bit choppy but I love it!
Serious question, tho: How do you pronounce Mari?
I grew up with someone named Mari and I never thought twice about how other people pronounce it. I say/read it like Mars, the planet. I don't think I could ever call her Mary.
Thank you for reading ❤️
When both Adrien and Marinette made it back to their respective hotel rooms he shared the contact information he had gotten from Red Robin. He debated on telling her what they talked about after that.
Ladybug had once admitted to Chat Noir that she would steal small items from the boy she was in love with. He had also caught Marinette with some of Luka's missing bracelets.
Ladybug had gushed to Chat Noir about the small gifts she gave her crushes. Adrien remembered the scarf and several other items Marinette had given him. He felt foolish that he had not connected the dots before. All the little things.
He hoped Marinette could be as happy as he and Kagami are. After all, she deserves so much with all that she gives to others.
Tim had tried to tell Damian what he had learned from Chat Noir. If it had to do with Marinette he would not listen. He really should've.
"Watcha doing, Demon Spawn?" Jason had walked by Damian's room only to see him empty his schoolbag on the bed. He was obviously looking for something.
Jason watched for a second before he walked away, yelling "Hey Dick, Damian lost something at school!"
"What? That's great!"
"Tim! Damian lost something!"
Eventually the entire house knew he had misplaced something and he couldn't believe they would give him hell for it. Well, maybe he could. But Father was pleased for some reason. He said something under his breath like "that's my son".
Marinette lay facedown on her bed. She had Damian's phone number, should she use it? What would she say?
Nothing. Marinette had already decided not to contact him as soon as Adrien gave it to her.
She was physically attracted to Damian but she doesn't actually know him. All she knows is that he is pushy, stubborn, and moonlights as a vigilante.
She finally had a chance to talk to Tikki when Alix went to shower. "Tikkkiii. Why do I want to talk to him?" Her voice was muffled by her pillow.
"Because you like him! I think he could be good for you. He'll help you set healthy boundaries with your peers."
"I don't know anything about him. I can't like him if I don't know him!" She sat up, crossed her legs and threw her hands in the air.
"Which is why you should message him and get to know him!" Not for the last time Marinette wondered how the god of creation could be so optimistic.
"But he hates me. All he ever did was snap at me and tell me what I was doing wrong! Guys like that are controlling and he would never respect me being a leader. He'd probably argue with me over every decision."
"You don't know that Marinette. Stop being so harsh to someone you've just met. You're a good Ladybug because you give people the chance to be themselves and try to find the best in everyone."
Marinette faceplanted into her pillow again and groaned.
"I know he's different from everyone you've ever had a crush on. You idolized Adrien, Luka was too easy-going, and-"
"We don't talk about that! I get it!" Marinette rolled over and pulled out the pen she'd been hiding in her purse. The D.W. sparkled under her the bedside lamp.
The next day, when the class visited the Botanical Gardens, Jason was the one to keep an eye on them. People gave him shit about his helmet but it was better than getting found out by a teenager.
He opted to sit and read rather the float around. It paid off in the end. His bench was close enough to hear the two heroes talk as they waited for their friends to enter the butterfly exhibit.
"Are you going to give it back to him?"
"I think so. If I can do it without getting caught."
"How'd you get it in the first place?"
"Uh, well, um. When he cornered me in the hallway and started telling me how irresponsible I was, he was towering over me-"
"Oh no!" Adrien interrupted with a laugh. "Two major offenses before he even knew your name!"
"So I, ya know..." She mumbled something incoherent.
"What was that, Bug?"
She gave a a heavy sigh. "I grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him down to my level. When I was done telling him off I smoothed out his shirt and, well, took the pen from his shirt pocket."
Marinette stood with her face half buried in her jacket collar and her ears were red.
"I don't even know why I did it. Why I ever do it." She sounded so embarrassed.
Adrien was about to say something but stopped when their friends approached.
"Mari, your face is so red! What happened, girl?" A girl with auburn curly hair slung her arm around Marinette's shoulders.
Adrien took mercy on her. "She just flirted with some guy at the academy, in the most Marinette way possible."
"Lucky guy! What was it this time, dudette?" The boy with a baseball cap asked.
"It's just a pen! He probably won't even notice it's gone!" With that she stormed off into the exhibit.
"Do you think she'll ever see him again?" Baseball hat asked.
Adrien shrugged "I really hope so. I want her to be happy."
After they walked away Jason let out the breath he'd been holding from trying not to laugh. Of course Damian would notice, he takes great care with all of his possessions.
Bruce should not have been surprised. He caught Dick and Tim loitering in the atrium of Wayne Enterprises. He was just thankful that Jason didn't appear to be there.
Tim was too exhausted to do more than watch the entrance and drink his coffee. Dick, however, caught him stalling at the elevator as he pretended to read the newspaper. He dragged Tim over with him.
"Long time no see, Bruce. I thought you finished reading the newspaper over breakfast."
Tim saved him from having to answer. "Incoming."
All three watched as the French class gathered in the atrium and received their visitors passes.
Marinette could feel someone watching her.
She slowly turned to see three older men watching her class. If she hadn't recognized Bruce Wayne she might've been concerned.
One, to her surprise, waved and smiled when he noticed her watching them. The one that had his hands full of files and a coffee mug tried to slap his hand down. Bruce Wayne looked sheepish. Why was that?
"Which one is she?" Dick asked excitedly.
"The one with watching us suspiciously. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, age 17, class president and author of the essay that won the trip." Dick had the good grace to smile and wave.
They were aware of their mistake when her face changed from suspicion to confusion to recognition. She narrowed her eyes at them and elbowed the blonde boy next to her. He only smiled and gave them a wink as their class entered the elevator.
It was like secret identities were no longer a thing. If she could recognize the three of them so easily maybe it was believable that Damian recognized her laugh. Maybe they could introduce her to Clark, just to prove a point.
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TITLE: The Rare Disease // d.w
SUMMARY: Y/n is a human born from a werewolf family. She was diagnosed with a rare disease and thought that there were no cure to it. But they managed to find it towards the end, though.
It was very unlikely for a werewolf to have a disease considering their ability to recover faster than humans and their ability to fight any illness. However, that doesn’t happen to Y/n.
When she was a baby, Y/n was diagnosed with a rare disease, a cause for her blood mutation since she was born from a couple of werewolf parents. It’s a rare disease and Y/n was the fifth omega child in the werewolves community across the world to be diagnosed with it. And since it’s rare, not even the doctor knew the cure. They didn’t even have a name so they just call it “The Rare Disease” and the symptoms are always the same.
She gets feverish almost every month ever since she was baby. Despite being an omega who came from a strong werewolf family line (hell, her little sister is an alpha), she cannot protect herself in many situation. Her brain will get fuzzy if she stays under the hot sun too long. She cannot get too cold either. Her dietry is also weird (which contains a massive amount of meat that not even her sister needed it).
All in all, Y/n had a very tough life growing up especially when she won’t be able to change into her wolf form because of her disease. She will only be able to have their senses.
Y/n’s little sister sticks with her through every episode of her sickness. The toughest one was when she got into heat for the first time, but it gets tougher over the next few of her heats and by the time Y/n was old enough to actually take a knot like other omegas do when they’re in heat, Y/n was not able to do it. Every time an alpha knots her, her body temperature will rise. Her body will be very hot and soon, she pass out. That happens many times that none of the alphas would want to knot her second time.
But that’s until the Winchester brothers came into their lives.
* * *
When Y/n and her sister first met the Winchester brothers, they were sitting at the park bench and were reading a witchcraft book. Y/n saw the disgusted look on their Dean’s face when he saw what they were reading and immediately, Y/n knew that Dean hates witches. They introduce themselves, exchanging smiles and looks and handshakes. In Dean’s part, he felt something when his skin touches with Y/n, but Y/n doesn’t look like she notices it.
Dean had wondered if Y/n was really good at masking it. He had never thought Y/n was human because she doesn’t really smell like one.
Ever since then, Y/n tried to be as close to Dean whenever she can but she was very careful not get suspicious because Dean’s smell calm her nerves. She didn’t tell him. She didn’t tell her sister. She’s not ready for her sister to know it yet especially when she knows with the sickness, she won’t live so much far long.
But knowing what her heat could do to Dean, she'd secluded herself from the other two alphas. Her sister will bring her somewhere else they know Y/n will be safe and will stay with her until she’s calm (though that means she passed out a couple of times during her heat). Meanwhile, Dean at the bunker was agitated.
After a few months of letting Y/n and her sister to live with them at the bunker (plus, they’re very good teammates when hunting), Dean knows and is very sure of it that Y/n is his mate. He knows Y/n is his mate. He knows when Y/n’s in heat because he could feel it in their bond and he’s a mess. He started to throw things inside his bedroom every time he could feel the mild pain his mate was feeling.
Dean didn’t understand why Y/n had to drive away whenever she’s in heat when her mate is right in front of her. Though Dean never confessed, nor did they talk about it, but Dean knew y/n knows. But why? If she knows Dean’s her mate, why is she running away while dean could help her during her heat?
That happens for a very long time until Y/n finally decided to slowly adapted her current situation. Y/n decided to stay at the bunker when she’s in heat, but asked her little sister for Dean’s shirt to accompany her in her room. Y/n’s sister was quite surprised to hear that, but she didn’t ask any more questions because she understood. And she had to sneak into Dean’s room to get his shirt.
But Sam caught Y/n's sister in the middle of stealing and not a second after that, Dean appeared.
“Shit.” Y/n’s sister mutters.
"What're you doing?" He asked the same question Sam asked.
Y/n's sister tried to lie for Y/n, but then decided to be honest since she's already caught red-handed. Y/n's sister told the brothers the truth (that Y/n's mate is Dean and the reason why Y/n never wanted dean nor Sam to know is because she's sick and dying and she doesn't want Dean to suffer her lost).
“You’re an alpha,” Dean said. “You know how it feels like for not being able to handle your omega mate.”
“She’s not a werewolf, Dean. She’s human, but she has an omega traits. That’s why it’s called Rare Disease.”
“And I don’t have an omega or a mate yet, but--”
“No, but you’re an alpha. Do you see how protective you are with your sister? Imagine that, but 10 times more protective towards your mate.”
Y/n's sister asked Dean to give her some more time, or at least until Y/n's heat over to discuss about it. Dean agreed and allowed Y/n's sister to grab a few more of his shirts for Y/n. Dean even allows Y/n’s sister to grab his pillows to Y/n to get comfortable in bed.
Y/n still doesn't want Dean to help her with her heat. Because of her illness, her heat always came strong. She tried with other alphas before and they knotted them a couple of times a night, but none of them managed to soothe Y/n's heat. They left Y/n alone to handle her own heat because they cannot help her. So just like every other alpha, Y/n doesn't think dean could help.
But Y/n's sister told Y/n to try. At least slowly. Let Dean be by her side at first. And when Y/n agreed and Dean was with her during her heat, Dean couldn't help much and he was devastated for not being able to help Y/n especially when she was writhing in pain. Dean was quite astounded to have witness Y/n's heat because he'd never seen heat so bad before. But Dean decided to search on the cure, hope there were cures. Sam and Y/n's sister helped too.
But they couldn't find any cure even when they reach the point when Y/n allowed Dean to knot her. Now most of other omega's heat are slowly faded when their alphas knotted them, but not y/n. Her bad heat still continues and Dean was messed up. Dean has to admit that he was exhausted helping Y/n.
Y/n became more sick. She felt unwanted. She felt as if Dean doesn't want her anymore. She felt like killing herself. Y/n and Dean had rough months especially when Y/n started to yell at Dean from time to time. When Dean got his rut and Y/n cannot help, she felt so useless. Dean felt their bond loosened, but still he didn't leave her. He felt bitter with their relationship sometimes, yes, but he never once thought of leaving her.
Dean was more messed up when Y/n suddenly fell onto unconsciousness this one day and Dean remembers that it's supposed to be her heat. Y/n was still breathing though she was in a slumber. And Dean, Sam and Y/n's sister fought hard to find Y/n's cure until one day, Y/n's sister mind was suddenly brought back when Y/n was born. She was visited by a black figure and it was sucking her blood.
Dean hates vampires. So so so bad but he bad no choice to meet them more specifically at their nest. He had to beg for one of the vampire's blood (more to the leader's strong blood) to feed Y/n. They made a deal that Sam and Dean are not to hunt vampires anymore. Once again, reluctantly Dean had to agree.
Once home, Dean quickly went to his room where Y/n was still sleeping on his bed. He made Y/n drink the blood until it's finished and hoped for Y/n to wake up but Y/n didn't wake up soon. She only wakes up three days after that.
Y/n was a little pale when she meets her sister, Sam and her mate at the reading table. “Dean?" Her heart was shaking and it's not only her heart that she could hear, but the others too. Not that she couldn't hear them before, but more intense now like she could hear blood streaming in their veins, or the soft notes of their breathings. And she could see more prominent too. Like Dean's green eyes under the yellow reading light even from afar.
“Y/n? You're awake?”
Dean chased after Y/n and there's a small part of her that wants to run to be naughty around with Dean, but decided not to and let Dean hugs her tightly there. “How're you feeling?”
“Um, good.” She smiled at Dean. “And, um, healthy.” She chuckled softly and nervously. “I don't know how more to describe just...I just like I'm ready for everything.”
“You sure?” Dean's eyebrow raised and there was a naughty smirk at the end of his lips.
“Guys! Come on!” Y/n's sister raised her voice, acknowledging the couple that she and Sam exist in the room with them. “Y/n just wake up and you decided to go lovey-dovey instantly? Don't I get a hug from my sister? Man, I'm so worried about you! We've been trying to find a cure but couldn't find any until I got a flashback from when you were little--”
“Ah, right, right, that dream.”
“You knew?!” Almost everyone in the room looked at her in surprised.
“No, I don't until I passed out. I dreamed of mom and I guess she helped me send that memory to you.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Dean hugged Y/n again. One arm linked around her shoulder meanwhile the other behind her head when he feels her shaking. “That's okay. You're safe now. And we're fine now.”
Y/n linked her arms around Dean's torso and inhaled his scent. The scent that can make her go crazy.
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correct my heart out
fandom: dc comics / supersons
summary: 18-year-old Jon Kent has decided he's done with silently pining after his best friend and it's time to do something about it. And because he's a hopeless romantic and knows Damian Wayne is a classical man at heart, he writes him a letter. Out of all the outcomes he pictures in his mind, the answer he gets is not one he was expecting.
notes: thought I’d give damijon a shot! the prompt was picked from this list, at the suggestion of my lovely @achinghcarts who also kindly beta’d it. can’t thank you enough for your support!
No. Hecking. Way.
Initially, when Jonathan Kent opened his notebook to find a freshly pressed letter between the pages of his last notes, sealed in that stupid monogrammed envelope he knew so well by now, his heart had threatened with jumping out of his body. For you see, folks, our friend Jon here had done something very brave the previous night - after having deliberated on the course of action for months, after having drafted nothing short of eight different texts, emails and letters in the last twenty four hours and having paced around his room reminiscing of the years worth of pining in the lamest possible way-, he'd managed to summon the freaking courage of writing a very heartfelt, extremely honest love letter, finally confessing and owning up to his feelings for his best friend. It'd taken up a few tries, what with the trembling of his hand and the continuous snapping of pens in half due to his nerves, but he'd done it. Not just that, he'd also folded it and slipped it somewhere Damian would easily find it, quite possible in the very near future. Oh! And he hadn't forgotten to sign it, which was also a pretty brave stage despite how telling the rest of the message was. All in all, Jon thought he'd done a good job.
So of course then, finding this in his notebook, seeing that slick D.W. stand out so proudly among his scribbles, Jon obviously understood that Damian had found his letter and, most likely, had read it as well. This in itself was already enough to make his heart start beating frantically, almost threatening with drilling a hole out of his chest, and to make his hands start sweating, too. As if that weren't enough, it then hit him that if he was in possession of a letter himself, then that had to mean Damian hadn't just read it but had also replied to him, too. For better or for worse, he knew; he was aware of Jon's feelings and he had come to a decision about what to do about them. He was both excited and terrified.
Imagine then his surprise when, after having wasted a considerable amount of time trying to pump himself up to pick and open the envelope, he didn't find a response from Damian, but rather his very own letter back. And not just his letter, but his very personal and heartfelt confession treated as an English assignment - marked and corrected in grammar, punctuation and vocabulary.
In red ink.
Signed by Damian Wayne.
Just. No hecking way.
He's still staring at it actually, not quite being able to believe this is a real thing. On one hand, there's a part of him that's in awe just by the fact that no matter how much time has passed or how much he thinks he knows his best friend, he always manages to surprise him, somehow, keep him on his toes (which may or may not be at least like a little bit attractive.) But on the other hand, he's definitely pissed off because what the actual heck, Damian? How can someone be so tone deaf when it comes to emotions! Even for a bat! Jon is sure his dad did not have to stand this treatment from Bruce.
He's been staring at the paper for a good part of five minutes now, still debating whether to feel impressed, offended, disappointed or hurt. Or maybe all four. Yeah, he probably feels all four. Plus... Anxious. Because no matter how much he looks at the paper, or how many times he reads the letter and its corrections (which is already a titanic task in itself due to the embarrassment) he cannot for the life of him find any hint of an answer. Heck, not even a faint idea as to the reaction the message had produced. So all he'd gone through, all the nerves and the stress and the overthinking, had been for nothing because he is still in the same place as before.
Actually, scratch that - he's in a worse place now, because he's at a clear disadvantage. Now Damian is well aware of his feelings - for how long he's been keeping them, the intensity with which he feels them, not to mention the ridiculously cheesy way in which he processes them. He knows all that whereas Jon, on the other hand, is still completely in the dark as regards the bat's feelings. And it's even scarier and more stressful than just plain pining, if he has to be honest.
So yeah, this sucks. Maybe he should actually just feel something closer to anger right now; that sounds reasonable, right? Except he can't really muster himself to channel just that. Not when the other very pressing thought on the back of his mind is how the only way out of this is going to Damian and ask him to his face what he thinks. How he feels.
And that's just terrifying. This is literally why he wrote a letter in the first place, and now he still has to go and face his best friend-slash-crush without a single hint of what might come of it! Trying to picture it already makes his palms sweaty and his feet restless. And he's pretty sure the nausea he's feeling right now is completely unrelated to the half a can of string cheese he ate earlier. And yet, as anxiety-inducing the mere thought of it is, Jon knows that he needs to do it, and he needs to get through it as soon as possible, cause this whole state of total ignorance is much more nerve wracking than his years of pining ever were and, honestly? He does not have the patience to deal with it.
Which is why he is now, at eleven something at night, completely barefoot and still dressed in his worn out Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt (the one he exclusively wore when he intended to pull all-nighters those times he didn't patrol, that had been a target of Damian's mockery many times,) landing on the cold fire escape outside his friend's kitchen window. It's not that he's feeling particularly confident, nor does he know for sure what he's going to say, but what he does know is that he wouldn't have been able to focus on his midterm paper without at least trying to solve this. So for his own sanity, he takes a deep--
"What in the world are you doing, Kent?"
He blinks twice, taken aback by the sudden apparition of the guy on the other side of the window. How did he...? He hadn't even knocked on the glass yet! He was sure he hadn't been in the room, he was counting on some more time to mentally prepare himself before going in for the talk! But of course, he should've known better than to imagine Damian wouldn't find some way of gaining the upper hand on the situation, more than he already did. He wants to get at least a bit irritated but... Heck, he's cute.
"J.?" Jon can feel his cheeks warming up, realizing he's still just standing there, staring at his friend like a total creep without saying anything. As if he needed another reason to look at me weird.
"H-hey Dames, I..." He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Um, are you... Er, you have a minute?"
The vigilante doesn't respond right away, instead narrowing his eyes slightly in that way that always makes him feel he can see right through him - which is probably not far from the truth. Despite this, he tries to appear unbothered and collected, even when the other keeps silent as he checks his phone and then... Checks him out? No, that can't be right. He's probably just... Judging him in some way, no need to get all worked up by this, it's fine, Jon, just breathe.
"I cannot believe you're still wearing that awful t-shirt," is what Damian finally breathes out, opening the window and taking a step back, leaving room for him to get in. The youngest Kent looks down at himself before moving forward, a small pout on his lips.
"It's very soft and very comfy," he states, climbing in. "They're my studying clothes." As he sits on the sill, he thinks he hears Damian sigh something that sounds suspiciously like you're ridiculous, but since there's no real bite to the words, he lets it slide.
"What are you doing here, then?" That he does say in a louder tone, throwing at him a pair of fluffy slippers Jon is pretty sure he'd shown his friend on a website a couple of weeks ago. He puts them on with a little smile before actually setting his feet on the immaculate tiles. "I don't see you studying." Of course he doesn't mean it in any accusing way (not for real, this is just Damian,) but it's enough to make his face catch fire once again, as he is reminded of the reason why he's come.
The younger boy looks down, inspecting the floor in an attempt for his rather longer locks to at least try and cover part of his face. Not that this is any guarantee of his friend not noticing - for all he knows, he is probably just asking out of politeness because just when does he not know stuff? Still, he knows he has to say it because emotions and feelings are to this day not things to which the bat gets into willingly. Plus, he wants to keep trying to own up to this, gain back some control.
"Well I was going to, but then--" he scratches the back of his neck, leaning his weight gently against the counter. Damian stays in front of him, his body resting against the fridge but in a way that was somewhat elegant, still attentive. It was such a similar posture yet he seemed so incredibly collected Jon can't help but think they're actually polar opposites many times. And his heart drops a little. Bit too late for that, Jonno. "Then I opened my notes."
He manages to gather enough courage to properly look at the guy's face, take in his annoyingly unfazed expression. It doesn't really change as Jon waits up on him to pick up the ball that is very clearly in his court; on the contrary, the only difference is the slight furrow on his brow that almost makes it look like he has no idea why he's stopped talking and oh really, does he really have to spell it out?
"... Were they incomplete? Indecipherable?" He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. "That wouldn't surprise me, your penmanship is atrocious, to say the least." And, in all honesty, for a second the half kryptionian allows himself to merely gape at him because no hecking way.
"Well, it didn't seem like you had too much trouble reading it in order to grade the letter I wrote you," he finally spits, standing straighter and crossing his arms as well. He even dares to fix his gaze on him and boy is that a good choice. For a fleeting moment, it seems like the reminder gives Damian a little slap and even takes him by surprise, if the faint blush that dusts his brown skin is anything to go by. And it feels good. He actually has to make an effort not to smile.
"On the contrary," he finally says after clearing his throat. "I had quite a good deal of trouble with many of your words, to the point I had to use calligraphy equipment to help myself out." In a manner that seems pretty dignified and in concordance with his previous collected stance, he turns around to move into the small living room; as always, Jon immediately follows.
He's ready to retaliate, to complain once more (this time to his face) about just how rude everything about this situation has been, how he felt straight up ignored and how much that hurt. He's even rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath to start talking, ready to stand up for himself and his feelings, when the youngest Wayne turns around, his expression completely different. His eyes look a bit shinier, and his face seems to have lost some of its sharpness, leaving instead a softness that, hadn't Jon known better, would've fooled him as nerves. And he speaks.
"It wasn't something I wanted to leave to free, probably misinterpretation." He moves towards the couch but doesn't sit on it; almost in sync, Jon copies him. "I wanted your every word, exactly how you planned it." The rare, raw feeling in the air is finally cut by a scoff; it's so surprising it actually startles him a little. "Though I must admit that random abbreviations, internet lingo and chat writing are hardly good ways of wooing someone, Kent." Of course.
The young superhero doesn't let himself be discouraged or embarrassed, and instead lets an easy smile play on his lips as he flops down onto the couch. This he knows. Snark and teasing and being a royal pain in the butt he's definitely acquainted with. This he likes.
"And the word wooing has hardly been used in this century, Damian." He receives a half-hearted glare, but he can also see the other taking a rather confident step towards the couch, and honestly that's already a win in Jon's books. It helps with his confidence. "Besides I... Maybe kinda hoped I had somehow already managed to do that. As you did with me."
If his face was hot before, right now it is literally on fire. A part of him knows how nonsensical this is, considering his best friend already knows he's stupidly in love with him, that he's read his letter enough times he managed to correct it like a paper, that he's already done enough. But there's another part that still feels nervous butterflies saying the words out loud, hearing them roll off his tongue; a part of him that is scared Damian will push him away because he dared pursue the subject even after he actively tried to cut all communication attempts on it. So sue him for being anxious. It gets even worse when his best friend rolls his eyes - he's doomed.
"Let me be extremely clear here, J. - at any point I actively tried to sweep you off your feet, or 'hit on you,'" he says, making air quotes that would've made him groan were his stomach not falling at his feet. He sighs, but Damian pays him little mind as he continues, back straightening, posture tall and confident. "Courtship was supposed to start now, first step being a meal together at home." I'm sorry what was that?
His head shots up, eyes wide as two china plates staring unashamed at Damian, almost waiting for him to somehow correct himself or tell him he is not understanding correctly. But the vigilante doesn't, and instead he is gifted that gentle blush in his cheeks and across his nose again and wow he is ridiculously cute. When the young Kent fails to produce a sound, he clears his throat and continues.
"I figured you'd show up tonight, so I took the liberty of changing my patrol schedule, and I ordered your favorite types of pizza - we're set for dinner, dessert, and whatever comes afterwards before you fly back to your dorm." He moves across the room with elegance, walking up to a small tray with two glasses, which he takes. "And though I do not condone you slacking on your academic life, for this night alone I offer myself to help you complete any assignment I might be delaying with my invitation." Damian offers him one of the wide glasses in his hands, and he takes it almost without hesitation, his brain still too busy trying to process the situation he's finding himself in, which is so unlike any scenario he could've imagined because... What? And he was supposed to gather all this from...?
"... I'm sorry, what does this have to do with you being so tone deaf to give me back my very heartfelt confession with nothing but grammar corrections?" The smirk he gets in return makes his heart do a silly flip.
"If you must know, I couldn't and wouldn't allow my boyfriend to write like that - I have standards, Kent."
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Spoilers for the Ducktales episode. Let's get Dangerous
A lot happened in the episode and there's a lot of things to like about the episode.
I love how Drake has already met Fenton and they're already friends. I also loved how Drake called Fenton buddy when he called them on the motorcycle. (I hope when/if Drake finds out who Gizmoduck is I hope he's conflicted about it instead of deciding on the spot they're not friends anymore.)
I love how Launchpad called him Drake at the beginning of the episode instead. Of Darkwing the whole time. They're definitely friends first here instead of just hero and sidekick.
Even though she played a small role I'm glad that Owlson was willing to give Darkwing a chance. She said right off the bat that she didn't want anyone becoming vigilantes but she also rewarded D.W. for his help and said the the phrase "When there's trouble you call D.W."
This episode really does show that Drake needs Launchpad and Gosalyn to be the hero he needs to be.
I felt bad for Gosalyn when Drake wouldn't help her the first time. While she was right about him worrying more about his reputation, he wasn't completely wrong either. Yoh can't accuse someone of stealing without any hard evidence to back you up.Yes Darkwing realized she was right. But if she had been wrong no one would want to help them later when they needed it.
Seeing all of Darkwings old villains was fun and I wished they had stayed in the diminsion so we could see more of them later.
I hope Dewey and Gosalyn become friends in the future. I liked how he was willing to help her as soon as she finished her story he does have some idea about wanting to find someone and feeling like no one wants to tell you anything.
It also really did feel like a Darkwing episode when it was just the three of them. Seeing Drake and Launchpad nerding out and refrenceing episodes from the old show was one of my favorite parts of the episode.
It was funny seeing Bradford with the boys and I think the season is going to pick up quickly now that the family knows about Fowl I think we're going to find that they're not black and white. What I mean is what Bradford said about Magica De Spell and Lunaris. Bradford wasn't wrong the main reason they attacked the town/world. Was because of the Mcduck family. And while they did step up and save everyone both times, I think it'll only be a matter of time before Bradford turns the whole town against them.
Last thing I really liked was the ending. Even though Drake hasn't officially adopted her yet I like how Gosalyn is willing to give Drake a chance while they give Fenton and I'm assuming Gyro a chance to help find her grandfather. I love how Launchpad already considers them part of his family and I think with him going back and forth sooner or later he's going to have to choose between Duckburg and St. Canard.
If anything to nitpick I wish Fenton/ Gizmoduck had a bigger role. I know it was a Darkwing episode but with the crew talking about it and them refrenceing Justice Ducks made me think he was going to help during the last battle. (Although seeing him cut bushroots vines and being declared the town hero is enough for now.)
While The Duck Knight returns is still my favorite episode this is still one of the best episodes we've gotten from the show so far.
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Okay, that's it. I'm going out into the imagination on a search, she's been gone for 1369 days and no one is concerned. Who's coming w/ me?
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Scandal-induced marriage (medieval AU) Chapter 01
Supernatural Bingo Challenge Masterlist
Winchester Brothers Masterlist
Supernatural Scandal-induced marriage Masterlist
plot: Y/N the princess of the kingdom of the north, met two young lumberjacks in the forests near the castle. Who could imagine those would be the love interests of the princess? How will the king Crowley react?
AU: medieval world, where Y/N is a princess, daughter of Crowley. And Sam and Dean live with Bobby, the ex-knight of the king.
Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean, Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader. (no wincest)
Characters: Crowley, Jo
Father was talking about how should start taking care of some royal duties, sending me off with my maid Jo to the room were we talked with the villagers to know what kind of problems are taking over.
Jo was a really good friend, not just a maid. We had been friends since we were kids, even tho king Crowley never let me play with the servants’ kids.
Some villagers were talking about some nonsense of flying foxes that attacked the chickens when I saw them. The two young lumberjacks and Bobby were in the line. Bobby looked at me with a father-like expression, he always was nice to me. The other two were looking around until their eyes found me. They didn’t seem to recognize me, which I was thankful for.
The people talked and talked about their problems until it was the time for the lumberjacks. Sam and Dean kneeled in from of me, while Bobby just bowed.
´´M’lady, it is a pleasure to meet you`` Sam said, blushing a little bit. Looking into his hazel eyes you could se nothing but admiration. I giggled at his actions, he looked really cute. Yesterday they were gentle but acting normally, here, in the throne room, they are nervous and flustered.
´´We would like to become the guards of the castle`` Dean said, his knee still in touch with the floor.
I nodded, ´´The king is the one in charge of that, oh, my sweet lumberjacks`` the boys looked at me. ´´I’ll keep it touch with you, my dearest lumberjacks`` turning around and getting some gold coins. ´´Take this as a response``. Sam and Dean were amazed but the amount of money I just gave them.
The line kept getting shorter and shorter, but never ending. Once it ended I mentioned the boys to my father.
Days later, father talked to the lumberjacks, telling them that they would have to do some quests in order to work in the castle. Both young men went of in their first quest, completing it in the same day.
I was amazed by their strength, sadly, father didn’t give me permission to speak to them and didn’t let me have any type of contact with Sam and Dean. At least I could see them trough the windows.
Jo came to me in the afternoon, she brought me a letter.
We would like to meet you in the forest like last time.
S.W. and D.W.``
I sighed, explaining to Jo that I faked being a maid when I met them some moons ago. I used the name of the maid that is no longer with me due to her stealing.
Jo squealed exited to see that I found love, or at least interest in men. She helped me prepare to the meeting
I went down the path to the lake, finding myself alone. I thought that they were pranking me. But soon enough I heard them talking and walking my way.
The explained to me that they were making quests for the king to be guards, and that they hoped to be the princess’s guard. I could see the excitement in their eyes.
I was happy for them, and even felt jealous of my princess self, because the real me, was the one out here, and not the one trapped in the castle.
The boys and I had a precious conversation until I turned around and saw Bobby.
He had clearly recognized me.
´´ Oh sorry, I have to go`` I said, running up the path.
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perfect to me || d.w
summary: pregnancy and motherhood is a beautiful struggle dean winchester will never understand. although he notices your lack of self esteem and confidence, he does everything to reassure you that you are still as beautiful as you were the day he fell in love with you.
pairing: au!dean winchester x reader
warnings: minor language, insecurities, low self esteem, body image issues, little angst, fluff, mentions of sex - sexual innuendoes
prompts: 50. “i think you’re beautiful” and 63. “cross my heart and hope to die.”
a/n: we all deserve a dean winchester
masterlist || taglist
you sighed as you stepped on the scale once again, you squeezed your eyes shut as the numbers on the scale began to appear. you let out another sigh and finally opened your eyes. your eyes locking on the numbers and your shoulders dropped, tears brimming in your eyes as stared at them. you’d been struggling with losing weight lately and for the love of god, you couldn’t figure out why. you’d been following your diet very strictly, even going as far to avoid cheat days. you went to the gym at least twice a week, three times if you had any extra time. you just didn’t understand why you weren’t able to reach your weight goal.
stepping off the scale, you brushed away your tears with the sleeve of dean’s henley you’d been wearing. you walked over to the mirror, lifting up the shirt, you wanted to cry at the sight. you looked nothing like you had a few months ago. your stretch marks were more prominent and the lack of toned muscle made you want to sob. “let’s go, winchesters! movie’s starting in ten.” your husband shouted from the bottom of the stairs before making his way back into the kitchen. dropping the shirt, you turned away from the mirror. a small sniffle escaped you as you flicked off the bathroom light and made your way down the stairs. you could hear what sounded like a shawn mendes song. you followed the music, the sound leading you into the kitchen. you leaned against the frame the sight in front of you made beam from ear to ear.
dean, your husband, was standing at the bar with your son perched on his hip as he finished making the snacks for movie night. his body swaying to the music as he sang along softly, colt attempting to sing along with him.
“and don’t be a fool and wait on me, darlin’. i know you don’t wanna hear this, but i’m always on the move.” dean sang, colt resting his head on dean’s shoulder. dean softly rubbed colt’s back and pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
“and don’t be a fool and say that you love me ‘cause you’ll find a man who will be by your side and will be there for you.” dean helped colt sing and you chuckled at the two of them. dean turned to look at you standing in the entrance of the kitchen. grinning once his eyes locked on you, “hey, sweetheart.”
colt perked up at the endearment, another set of sparkling jade green eyes staring at you. you swore colt was a carbon copy of dean, a spitting image of his father. from the blond hair and heaps of freckles to the shining green eyes and give ‘em hell attitude. you didn’t see any of yourself in your son, just dean.
colt reached out for you, “mama!” he squealed in his father’s ear, dean jerking his head away. you pushed off of the frame and made your way over where dean was standing. you took colt into your arms and he gave you a wet kiss on your cheek. dean chuckled and mocked colt, his lips brushing against your cheek. “everything’s almost finished,” dean turned back to the fruit he'd been putting in a bowl.
reaching around him, you popped a grape in your mouth. “okay,” you muttered around the grape you’d been chewing. “you mind taking some of this stuff out into the living room?” dean asked and you nodded in response. “mama, can i help?” you smiled, “of course, pea.” setting him down, you handed him the bowl of popcorn before you grabbed dean’s pizza and the bag of candy.
you followed colt into the living room and began placing the items on the coffee table. dean entered the room a minute later with plates in one hand, a beer and juice tucked under one arm, and the bowl of fruit in the other hand. you were trying to get everything settled on the table before dean was forcing you to sit on the couch while he finished. once he finished, dean was taking a seat next to you before colt dived into his lap. he pulled you in close and the three of you were cuddled up on the couch as you cued up netflix in search of a movie.
your mind was racing a million miles a minute. you were worried about your appearance. why wasn’t it working? what were you doing wrong? when had you lost your confidence in yourself? did dean notice your body had changed? if he did, how did he feel, what would he do?
you weren’t even ten minutes into all dogs go to heaven before dean sighed, pressing pause on the remote, “alright, sweetheart. what’s going on in that head of yours?” he did his best to turn and face you. colt already asleep on dean’s chest, his fist balled up in dean’s shirt as little snores passed through his lips. glancing at dean, you shook your head before reaching for the remote. dean tutted, swiping the remote before you could get your hand on it.
quirking a brow, “come on, sweetheart, you haven’t been acting like yourself. and don’t think that i didn’t notice that you were crying when you came into the kitchen earlier. talk to me.” dean pleaded, his eyes searching yours. his features softening when he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. you reached up and wiped away the few tears that escaped and sighed. “i just, i don’t feel,” you paused, looking for the right word. “pretty,” you whispered.
“i never had an issue with the way i looked when i was pregnant with colt, my body began to change and i was self conscious. after he was born, i was able to lose the weight and get back in shape. now, i’ve gained like ten pounds and no matter what i do, i can’t lose it. i feel so ugly.” you sobbed, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.
dean was silent beside you, he definitely hadn’t expected you to say anything along those lines. you were pretty, you were more than pretty. in his eyes you were a goddess, you radiated beauty and it wasn’t just exterior. something about you made other people feel good about themselves, you were so sweet and kind. dean’s heart shattered as he watched you break down in front of him. you were always the strong one, he’s never, ever seen you cry like this before. he’s seen a few tears escape those sparkling eyes of yours and you’d quickly wipe them away, take a deep breath, smile, and say “i’m okay.” or you’d be crying happily over something, but he’s never seen you so devastated before.
“sweetheart,” dean started, his eyes welling up with tears as he tugged you towards him. it hurt him to see you cry like this. dean pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his unoccupied shoulder. you sobbed into his shoulder, your hand clutching his shirt for dear life. his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, blinking back his tears, dean held on to you tightly as you cried.
a few minutes later, you started to calm down. “sweetheart?” dean muttered. you sniffled in response. dean placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “you’re not ugly. you are so far from it, i think you’re beautiful. hell, you’re the most gorgeous woman to ever walk this earth.”
you scoffed, “you’re just saying that because you have to.” dean slipped his finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him. your bloodshot eyes locking with his emerald orbs, shining with unshed tears.
he shook his head, “no, sweetheart, i mean it. it doesn’t matter to me if you’ve gained ten or a hundred pounds. you’re the love of my life, baby. i’m yours forever, unless i happen to run into daisy duke one day, then you’re on your own.” the sound that you made caused dean’s heart to skip a beat. you laughed, not a chuckle or a giggle, an actual laugh. and, god, he’d do anything to hear it again.
he sighed, “i’m sorry if i made you feel like you weren’t pretty anymore. i’m so fuckin’ sorry, sweetheart.” you shook your head, “dean, it wasn’t you. i’ve been feeling this way since the waitress was flirting with you a few weeks ago and i got self conscious, i mean she was prettier and a little younger. i thought, you found her more attractive and i don’t know.” dean gave your arm a light squeeze.
“nah, nobody even comes close to my awesome wife,” dean grinned. “i thought you were leaving me for daisy duke, if you had the chance.”
dean tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “honey,” dean paused, a soft smile on his face. “not even daisy duke can compare to you. even in baby food stained sweatpants, with your messy hair, and tear stained cheeks. you’re gorgeous even on your worst day.” you leaned over and pressed your lips to dean’s, the feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach as his lips moved against yours. you never understood how after what felt like a lifetime how this man could still make you feel like you were a teenager around their crush, you’ve been together since high school and have known each other even longer. his hand found its way to your neck, bringing you in closer, his thumb tracing your jaw bone.
a giggle forced the two of you to break apart. “gross,” colt lifted his head from dean’s shoulder and smiled sleepily at the two of you. “well, look who’s awake.” dean chuckled, ruffling colt’s messy hair. colt shook his head, “still sleepy?” colt nodded and reached out for you. taking him into your arms, you stood up from the couch. “you better meet me in our room in five minutes for more kisses, winchester.” dean pointed to you and you rolled your eyes.
“how can i say no to an offer like that?” you grinned before heading up the stairs.
from that night on, would make sure you knew just how beautiful you were to him. he’d wait at the bottom of the steps for you with a kiss and a hug ‘for the pretty lady.’ he’d send flowers to your job with a note describing in detail just how pretty you looked before you left in the morning. during intimate moments, he’d take his time placing kisses on every spot and cherishing the place you hated on your body and before you fell asleep every night, he’d tell how gorgeous you were and two things he loved about you before you’d finally fall asleep.
currently, you were sitting at a table, your husband by your side, his hand holding yours tightly as you watched sam, colt, and jess on the dance floor. the newlyweds were dancing with your son, his giggles could be heard from where the two of you were sitting. you looked over at dean and he’d already been staring at you, a fond smile on his features. his let go of your hand and stood up, his hand coming back into your view as he held it out. you looked up at him, his head nodding towards the dance floor.
“it’s only right if the best man and maid of honor get a dance in.” dean smirked.
graciously you accepted his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. dean pulled you to the dance floor as the song was starting to change. he moved through the crowd until he was next to sam, jess, and colt. “mama, daddy!” colt called, bouncing in sam’s arms as he caught sight of the two of you. “hey, buddy!” dean said, ruffling his hair, making him laugh. sam tried to pass colt off to you, but colt wasn’t having it, his hand gripped onto sam’s tux tightly.
you laughed and shook your head at your son. dean turned to face you, placing his hand on the small of your back and tugging you closer to him. you placed one hand in his, the other resting on his shoulder. he started swaying to the music once the song changed. dean hummed along softly to the song, his green eyes searching every inch of your face as if he was committing it to memory.
dean’s grip on you tightened as he began to sing along to the song. “and darling i will be lovin’ you ‘til we’re seventy. and, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three.” he twirled you around and pulled you back in your back hitting his chest. he lowered his head, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as he continued to sway you to the beat. “promise?” you could feel dean nodded against your cheek. “i’ll love you longer than that, sweetheart. cross my heart and hope to die,” you spun in his hold, your arms wrapping around his neck.
dean smiled down at you, “have i told you how beautiful you look today?” he asked. “hm,” you tilted your head as if you were thinking about it, “yes, you have, about thirty times actually.” you both chuckled, dean shrugging. “it’s the truth, whether you gain one or a hundred pounds, or you could be wearing a garbage bag, and look like you haven’t slept in days and i’d still think you were the most beautiful woman in the world.” you leaned up and pressed a kiss to dean’s lips. dean smiled against your mouth, his hands pulling you in closer.
you pulled away and peered into those enticing orbs of his and grinned. a loud squeal broke you out of your trance and you looked over, seeing sam and jess tickling colt.
“look at those two kids we raised,” dean sighed, his eyes softening at the sight of sam and colt. “yeah, i still remember when sam was just a baby.” you muttered, resting your head on dean’s shoulder. he placed a kiss on the top of your head.
you remember helping dean care for sam when john would stay late at the garage. much like john, your parents weren’t around much, you’d only see them at dinner and for breakfast. for a while the three of you only had each other. the winchesters had become your family before you married dean.
“i think we did great fuckin’ job with him.” you nodded against his shoulder, watching sam interact with colt. he’d been more excited than dean was when he found out he was going to be an uncle. “yeah, we did.” you smiled and dean rested his head against yours.
“do you ever think about having another kid?” dean bit his lip, nervous to hear your answer. you removed your head from his shoulder, your gaze falling on to his nervous stare. “how soon?” you asked and dean’s brow raised, “are you asking to sneak off for a quickie?” dean smirked and you rolled your eyes, “no, asshat,” dean chuckled, “how soon are you wanting another kid?”
dean’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. “how does nine months from now sound, gorgeous?” dean twirled you once more and quickly pulled you back into his chest, he was sporting a grin when you looked up at him.
“is six months from now okay with you?” dean’s eyes widened. “wait,” he took a step back from you, giving you a once over, his eyes falling to your stomach. “you’re pregnant?” you nodded and dean gave a whoop of excitement, many heads turning in your directions. his arms wrapped around you tightly and he lifted you into the air, spinning you around, a giggle leaving you.
dean placed you back on your feet and gave you a bruising, yet loving kiss. you pulled away with a laugh. “my god, you’re amazing.” you gave him a one-shouldered shrug, “you helped me get my confidence back and feel less insecure about myself, giving you another kid is the least i could do.” you joked and dean shook his head, a smile on his face.
“you should never feel insecure about the way you look, sweetheart. you’re beautiful, inside and out.” you were about to respond to dean when you felt a tug on your dress. looking down, colt peered up at you with a toothy smile. dean scooped him into his arms, “hey, buddy. how do you feel about being a big brother?” colt shrugged and laid his head on dean’s shoulder.
you and dean laughed, “i’m sleepy.” colt yawned. “yeah, me too, pea.” you laid your head on dean’s other shoulder and sighed.
you were lucky to have someone like dean. someone who made you feel safe and secure. someone who, even on your worst day, looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars. someone who loved you for the person you were and not what you looked like. you couldn’t wait to experience the rest of your life with dean winchester, the man who cherished you deeply.
@starkxpotts / @breezy1415 / @multifandombackpack / @deanlenaz / @thewinchesterchronicles / @tameraneanwxves /
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Colleen Moore (born Kathleen Morrison; August 19, 1899 – January 25, 1988) was an American film actress who began her career during the silent film era. Moore became one of the most fashionable (and highly-paid) stars of the era and helped popularize the bobbed haircut.
A huge star in her day, approximately half of Moore's films are now considered lost, including her first talking picture from 1929. What was perhaps her most celebrated film, Flaming Youth (1923), is now mostly lost as well, with only one reel surviving.
Moore took a brief hiatus from acting between 1929 and 1933, just as sound was being added to motion pictures. After the hiatus, her four sound pictures released in 1933 and 1934 were not financial successes. Moore then retired permanently from screen acting.
After her film career, Moore maintained her wealth through astute investments, becoming a partner of Merrill Lynch. She later wrote a "how-to" book about investing in the stock market.
Moore also nurtured a passion for dollhouses throughout her life and helped design and curate The Colleen Moore Dollhouse, which has been a featured exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago, Illinois since the early 1950s. The dollhouse, measuring 9 square feet (0.84 m2), was estimated in 1985 to be worth of $7 million, and it is seen by 1.5 million people annually.
Moore was born Kathleen Morrison on August 19, 1899, (according to the bulk of the official records; the date which she insisted was correct in her autobiography, Silent Star, was 1902) in Port Huron, Michigan, Moore was the eldest child of Charles R. and Agnes Kelly Morrison. The family remained in Port Huron during the early years of Moore's life, at first living with her grandmother Mary Kelly (often spelled Kelley) and then with at least one of Moore's aunts.
By 1905, the family moved to Hillsdale, Michigan, where they remained for over two years. They relocated to Atlanta, Georgia, by 1908. They are listed at three different addresses during their stay in Atlanta (From the Atlanta-Fulton Public Library city directories): 301 Capitol Avenue −1908; 41 Linden Avenue – 1909; 240 N. Jackson Street – 1910. They then lived briefly — probably less than a year — in Warren, Pennsylvania, and by 1911, they had settled in Tampa, Florida.
At age 15 she was taking her first step in Hollywood. Her uncle arranged a screen test with director D.W. Griffith. She wanted to be a second Lillian Gish but instead, she found herself playing heroines in Westerns with stars such as Tom Mix.
Two of Moore's great passions were dolls and movies; each would play a great role in her later life. She and her brother began their own stock company, reputedly performing on a stage created from a piano packing crate. Her aunts, who doted on her, indulged her other great passion and often bought her miniature furniture on their many trips, with which she furnished the first of a succession of dollhouses. Moore's family summered in Chicago, where Moore enjoyed baseball and the company of her Aunt Lib (Elizabeth, who changed her name to "Liberty", Lib for short) and Lib's husband Walter Howey. Howey was the managing editor of the Chicago Examiner and an important newspaper editor in the publishing empire of William Randolph Hearst, and was the inspiration for Walter Burns, the fictional Chicago newspaper editor in the play and the film, The Front Page.
Essanay Studios was within walking distance of the Northwestern L, which ran right past the Howey residence. (They occupied at least two residences between 1910 and 1916: 4161 Sheridan and 4942 Sheridan.) In interviews later in her silent film career, Moore claimed she had appeared in the background of several Essanay films, usually as a face in a crowd. One story has it she had gotten into the Essanay studios and waited in line to be an extra with Helen Ferguson: in an interview with Kevin Brownlow many years later, Ferguson told a story that substantially confirmed many details of the claim, though it is not certain if she was referring to Moore's stints as a background extra (if she really was one) or to her film test there prior to her departure for Hollywood in November 1917. Film producer D.W. Griffith was in debt to Howey, who had helped him to get both The Birth of a Nation and Intolerance through the Chicago censorship board.
"I was being sent to Hollywood - not because anybody out there thought I was any good, but simply to pay off a favor".
The contract to Griffith's Triangle-Fine Arts was conditional on passing a film test to ensure that her heterochromia (she had one brown eye, one blue eye) would not be a distraction in close-up shots. Her eyes passed the test, so she left for Hollywood with her grandmother and her mother as chaperones. Moore made her first credited film appearance in 1917 in The Bad Boy for Triangle Fine Arts, and for the next few years appeared in small, supporting roles gradually attracting the attention of the public.
The Bad Boy was released on February 18, and featured Robert Harron, Richard Cummings, Josephine Crowell, and Mildred Harris (who would later become Charles Chaplin's first wife). Two months later, it was followed by An Old-Fashioned Young Man, again with Robert Harron. Moore’s third film was Hands Up! filmed in part in the vicinity of the Seven Oaks (a popular location for productions that required dramatic vistas). This was her first true western. The film’s scenario was written by Wilfred Lucas from a story by Al Jennings, the famous outlaw who had been freed from jail by presidential pardon by Theodore Roosevelt in 1907. Monte Blue was in the cast and noticed Moore could not mount her horse, though horseback riding was required for the part (during casting for the part she neglected to mention she did not know how to ride). Blue gave her a quick lesson essentially consisting of how to mount the horse and how to hold on.
On May 3, 1917, the Chicago Daily Tribune said: "Colleen Moore contributes some remarkable bits of acting. She is very sweet as she goes trustingly to her bandit hero, and, O, so pitiful, when finally realizing the character of the man, she goes into a hysteria of terror, and, shrieking 'Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!' beats futilely on a bolted door, a panic-stricken little human animal, who had not known before that there was aught but kindness in the world." About the time her first six-month contract was extended an additional six months, she requested and received a five weeks release to do a film for Universal's Bluebird division, released under the name The Savage. This was her fourth film, and she was only needed for two weeks. Upon her return to the Fine Arts lot, she spent several weeks trying to get her to pay for the three weeks she had been available for work for Triangle (finally getting her pay in December of that year).
Soon after, the Triangle Company went bust, and while her contract was honored, she found herself scrambling to find her next job. With a reel of her performance in Hands Up! under her arm, Colin Campbell arranged for her to get a contract with Selig Polyscope. She was very likely at work on A Hoosier Romance before The Savage was released in November. After A Hoosier Romance, she went to work on Little Orphant Annie. Both films were based upon poems by James Whitcomb Riley, and both proved to be very popular. It was her first real taste of popularity.
Little Orphant Annie was released in December. The Chicago Daily Tribune wrote of Moore, "She was a lovely and unspoiled child the last time I saw her. Let’s hope commendation hasn’t turned her head." Despite her good notices, her luck took a turn for the worse when Selig Polyscope went bust. Once again Moore found herself unemployed, but she had begun to make a name for herself by 1919. She had a series of films lined up. She went to Flagstaff, Arizona for location work on The Wilderness Trail, another western, this time with Tom Mix. Her mother went along as a chaperone. Moore wrote that while she had a crush on Mix, he only had eyes for her mother. The Wilderness Trail was a Fox Film Corporation production, and while it had started production earlier, it would not be released until after The Busher, which was released on May 18. The Busher was an H. Ince Productions-Famous Players-Lasky production; it was a baseball film wherein the hero was played by John Gilbert. The Wilderness Trail followed on July 6, another Fox film. A few weeks later, The Man in the Moonlight, a Universal Film Manufacturing Company film was released on July 28. The Egg Crate Wallop was a Famous Players-Lasky production released by Paramount Pictures on September 28.
The next stage of her career was with the Christie Film Company, a move she made when she decided she needed comic training. While with Christie, she made Her Bridal Nightmare, A Roman Scandal, and So Long Letty. At the same time as she was working on these films, she worked on The Devil's Claim with Sessue Hayakawa, in which she played a Persian woman, When Dawn Came, and His Nibs (1921) with Chic Sale. All the while, Marshall Neilan had been attempting to get Moore released from her contract so she could work for him. He was successful and made Dinty with Moore, releasing near the end of 1920, followed by When Dawn Came.
For all his efforts to win Moore away from Christie, it seems Neilan loaned Moore to other studios most of the time. He loaned her out to King Vidor for The Sky Pilot, released in May 1921, yet another Western. After working on The Sky Pilot on location in the snows of Truckee, she was off to Catalina Island for work on The Lotus Eater with John Barrymore. In October 1921, His Nibs was released, her only film to be released that year besides The Sky Pilot. In His Nibs, Moore actually appeared in a film within the film; the framing film was a comedy vehicle for Chic Sales. The film it framed was a spoof on films of the time. 1922 proved to be an eventful year for Moore as she was named a WAMPAS Baby Star during a "frolic" at the Ambassador Hotel which became an annual event, in recognition of her growing popularity. In early 1922, Come On Over was released, made from a Rupert Hughes story and directed by Alfred E. Green. Hughes directed Moore himself in The Wallflower, released that same year. In addition, Neilan introduced her to John McCormick, a publicist who had had his eye on Moore ever since he had first seen her photograph. He had prodded Marshall into an introduction. The two hit it off, and before long they were engaged. By the end of that year, three more of her films were released: Forsaking All Others, The Ninety and Nine, and Broken Chains.
Look Your Best and The Nth Commandment were released in early 1923, followed by two Cosmopolitan Productions, The Nth Commandment and Through the Dark. By this time, Moore had publicly confirmed her engagement to McCormick, a fact that she had been coy about to the press previously. Before mid-year, she had signed a contract with First National Pictures, and her first two films were slated to be The Huntress and Flaming Youth. Slippy McGee came out in June, followed by Broken Hearts of Broadway.
Moore and John McCormick married while Flaming Youth was still in production, and just before the release of The Savage. When it was finally released in 1923, Flaming Youth, in which she starred opposite actor Milton Sills, was a hit. The controversial story put Moore in focus as a flapper, but after Clara Bow took the stage in Black Oxen in December, she gradually lost her momentum. In spring 1924 she made a good but unsuccessful effort to top Bow in The Perfect Flapper, and soon after she dismissed the whole flapper vogue; "No more flappers...people are tired of soda-pop love affairs." Decades later Moore stated Bow was her "chief rival."
Through the Dark, originally shot under the name Daughter of Mother McGinn, was released during the height of the Flaming Youth furor in January 1924. Three weeks later, Painted People was released. After that, she was to star in Counterfeit. The film went through a number of title changes before being released as Flirting with Love in August. In October, First National purchased the rights to Sally for Moore's next film. It would be a challenge, as Sally was a musical comedy. In December, First National purchased the rights to Desert Flower and in so doing had mapped out Moore's schedule for 1925: Sally would be filmed first, followed by The Desert Flower.
By the late 1920s, she had accomplished dramatic roles in films such as So Big, where Moore aged through a stretch of decades, and was also well received in light comedies such as Irene. An overseas tour was planned to coincide with the release of So Big in Europe, and Moore saw the tour as her first real opportunity to spend time with her husband, John McCormick. Both she and John McCormick were dedicated to their careers, and their hectic schedules had kept them from spending any quality time together. Moore wanted a family; it was one of her goals.
Plans for the trip were put in jeopardy when she injured her neck during the filming of The Desert Flower. Her injury forced the production to shut down while Moore spent six weeks in a body cast in bed. Once out of the cast, she completed the film and left for Europe on a triumphal tour. When she returned, she negotiated a new contract with First National. Her films had been great hits, so her terms were very generous. Her first film upon her return to the States was We Moderns, set in England with location work done in London during the tour. It was a comedy, essentially a retelling of Flaming Youth from an English perspective. This was followed by Irene (another musical in the style of the very popular Sally) and Ella Cinders, a straight comedy that featured a cameo appearance by comedian Harry Langdon. It Must Be Love was a romantic comedy with dramatic undertones, and it was followed by Twinkletoes, a dramatic film that featured Moore as a young dancer in London's Limehouse district during the previous century. Orchids and Ermine was released in 1927, filmed in part in New York, a thinly veiled Cinderella story.
In 1927, Moore split from her studio after her husband suddenly quit. It is rumored that John McCormick was about to be fired for his drinking and that she left as a means of leveraging her husband back into a position at First National. It worked, and McCormick found himself as Moore's sole producer. Moore's popularity allowed her productions to become very large and lavish. Lilac Time was one of the bigger productions of the era, a World War I drama. A million dollar film, it made back every penny spent within months. Prior to its release, Warner Bros. had taken control of First National and were less than interested in maintaining the terms of her contract until the numbers started to roll in for Lilac Time. The film was such a hit that Moore managed to retain generous terms in her next contract and her husband as her producer.
In 1928, inspired by her father and with help from her former set designer, a dollhouse was constructed by her father, which was 9 square feet with the tallest tower 12 feet high. The interior of The Colleen Moore Dollhouse, designed by Harold Grieve, features miniature bear skin rugs and detailed furniture and art. Moore's dollhouse has been a featured exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago, Illinois since October 30, 1949, where according to the museum, it is seen by 1.5 million people each year and would be worth $7 million. Moore continued working on it and contributing artifacts to it until her death.
This dollhouse was the eighth one Moore owned. The first dollhouse, she wrote in her autobiography Silent Star (1968), evolved from a cabinet that held her collection of miniature furniture. It was supposedly built from a cigar box. Kitty Lorgnette wrote in the Saturday, August 13, 1938 edition of The Evening News (Tampa) that the first dollhouse was purchased by Oraleze O'Brien (Mrs. Frank J. Knight) in 1916 when Moore (then Kathleen) left Tampa. Oraleze was too big for dollhouses, however, and she sold it again after her cat had kittens in it, and from there she lost track of it. The third house was possibly given to the daughter of Moore's good friend, author Adela Rogers St. Johns. The fourth survives and remains on display in the living room of a relative.
With the advent of talking pictures in 1929, Moore took a hiatus from acting. After divorcing McCormick in 1930, Moore married prominent New York-based stockbroker Albert Parker Scott in 1932. The couple lived at that time in a lavish home at 345 St. Pierre Road in Bel Air, where they hosted parties for and were supporters of the U.S. Olympic team, especially the yachting team, during the 1932 Summer Olympics held in Los Angeles.
In 1934, Moore, by then divorced from Albert Parker Scott, returned to work in Hollywood. She appeared in three films, none of which was successful, and Moore retired. Her last film was a version of The Scarlet Letter in 1934. She later married the widower Homer Hargrave and raised his children (she never had children of her own) from a previous marriage, with whom she maintained a lifelong close relationship. Throughout her life she also maintained close friendships with other colleagues from the silent film era, such as King Vidor and Mary Pickford.
In the 1960s, Moore formed a television production company with King Vidor with whom she had worked in the 1920s. She also published two books in the late 1960s, her autobiography Silent Star: Colleen Moore Talks About Her Hollywood (1968) and How Women Can Make Money in the Stock Market (1969). She also figures prominently alongside King Vidor in Sidney D. Kirkpatrick's book, A Cast of Killers, which recounts Vidor's attempt to make a film of and solve the murder of William Desmond Taylor. In that book, she is recalled as having been a successful real estate broker in Chicago and partner in the investment firm Merrill Lynch after her film career.
Many of Moore's films deteriorated, but not due to her own neglect, after she had sent them to be preserved at the Museum of Modern Art. Some time later, Warner Brothers asked for their nitrate materials to be returned to them. Moore's earlier First National films were also sent, since Warners later acquired First National. Upon their arrival, the custodian at MOMA, not seeing the films on the manifest, put them to one side and never went back to them. Many years later, Moore inquired about her collection and MOMA found the films languishing unprotected. When the films were examined, they had decomposed past the point of preservation. Heartbroken, she tried in vain to retrieve any prints she could from several sources without much success. In 1956, the material from WB and FN was sold to Associated Artists Productions, later to MGM/UA and then, Turner Entertainment.
At the height of her fame, Moore was earning $12,500 per week. She was an astute investor, and through her investments, remained wealthy for the rest of her life. In her later years she would frequently attend film festivals, and was a popular interview subject always willing to discuss her Hollywood career. She was a participant in the documentary series Hollywood (1980), providing her recollections of Hollywood's silent film era.
Moore was married four times. Her first marriage was to John McCormick of First National Studios. They married in 1923 and divorced in 1930. In 1932, Moore married stockbroker Albert P. Scott. This union ended in divorce in 1934. Moore's third marriage was to Homer Hargrave, whom she married in 1936; he provided funding for her dollhouse and she adopted his son, Homer Hargrave, Jr and his daughter, Judy Hargrave. They remained married until Hargrave's death in 1965. In 1982, Moore married her final husband, builder Paul Magenot. They were married until Moore's death in 1988.
On January 25, 1988, Moore died from cancer in Paso Robles, California, aged 88. For her contribution to the motion picture industry, Colleen Moore has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 1551 Vine Street.
F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote of her: "I was the spark that lit up Flaming Youth, Colleen Moore was the torch. What little things we are to have caused all that trouble."
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PUPPY LOVE D.W.
Summary: Dogs always know best, you learned that pretty quickly. Little bit Older!Damian x reader
A/N: I love Damian but also I feel like I can’t write him to save my life so I’m not really sure what tf this is but oh well.
Also I expected maybe two or three likes on my tim imagine and the fact I got 20x as many notes as I expected makes my heart 🥺🥺🥺 thank you guys💕
picture not mine
Word count: 3.1k
You met Damian Wayne at the dog park in Gotham.
As first encounters go, that one had to have been at the bottom of your list of being enjoyable. His dog, which you had later discovers his name was Titus, was huge. He was a Great Dane and nothing less of a giant. You were surprised that Damian, as short as he was, was able to hold onto the leash when Titus tugged on it.
It wasn't the fact that Titus was huge, it was that your dog was little. If there was one thing that everyone knew about little dogs, it was that they had to find the biggest dog in the area and pick a fight. That was exactly what your little Terrier did.
You had let him off his leash so that you could play fetch with him but he quickly lost interest in the ball and more interest in the black Dane. Your dog barked and nipped at the legs of his dog until you ran over to snatch him up. What made the matter worse, was that it had to be the son of Bruce Wayne.
Damian pulled his own dog away from yours in hopes to protect him. The two of them were acting very calm about the situation while you were freaking out and struggling to hold you pup. He continued to bark until you finally held him mouth shut and chastised him to be quiet, thankfully he listened.
"I am so sorry," You finally looked over at Damian. He patted the top of his dog's head, who had sat right at his side. The Great Dane looked much more well behaved than your own dog. "Is your dog alright? Terry doesn't usually do this I have no idea where it came from, really."
Damian did a look over of his dog and ordered him to jump and twist. The movement proved that he was perfectly fine. You sighed with relief. "You named your terrier, Terry?" It was the first time that he had spoke to you since the encounter. A slight blush rose to your cheeks as you realized that he was mocking you.
"Yes," you mustered up all the confidence you could get. He didn't say anything but made a small noise that you barely picked up on. You took that as your cue to leave. "I'm sorry about him," you apologized once more and decided that it was time to leave the dog park before another mishap occurred.
You had heard about Damian before, everyone in Gotham had. The son of Bruce Wayne that he didn’t know about until after a decade. You knew that you were the same age as him and you also knew by his pictures in the paper that he was very attractive. Seeing him in person proved that the pictures didn’t do justice.
Damian watched you walk away with a smile threatening to escape his lips. Terry the Terrier, what a joke. Yet, he thought the name was cute, but he also thought that Terry’s owner, was cuter.
The moment that you and Terry were in your car, you slumped your head back on the head rest. That was an awful first meeting, especially with someone like him. You looked over at your dog, who was looking up at you with his tongue hanging out and you could swear he was smiling.
"He was cute, wasn't he?" You spoke to Terry. To your surprise, he barked back at you. "As glad as I am that you gave me an excuse to talk to him, you ruined it by attacking his dog so why should I care?"
The next time you saw Damian, you were walking through the park with Terry. It was a hot sunny day in Gotham, which didn't happen very often. Jean shorts showed off your legs and sunglasses rested on your nose. It was rare to see days like those and you planned to make the most of the outdoors.
You were in your own world when you heard your dog barking. Terry rarely barked for no reason so there had to have been something that set him off. Unfortunately, as you looked around, you saw a familiar Great Dane. Before Terry could try and pull the leash over to Damian and his dog, you snatched him up under your arm.
There was no way that you were willing to risk embarrassing yourself twice in front of the youngest Wayne. So, trying to avoid another encounter, you kept your head straight and walked along the path. Besides, you doubted that he would even recognize you after your brief meeting all those weeks ago.
That didn't mean that his dog didn't know yours or Terry's scent. Titus let out a loud bark that caught your attention and nearly made you jump. You had just passed by where Damian was sitting on the bench and turned back to see that he was already looking at you. Terry managed to wiggle out of your arms and onto the ground.
"Terry," You scolded.
"No, it's okay," Damian approached you. "Titus was the one to bark, it is not yours, or your dogs, fault." This time, the dogs only sniffed each other rather than attacking. A small break from the aggression that Terry was showing before.
"I don't know why he's so interested in - Titus," you hesitated to repeat the name of his dog, unsure if you heard him correctly. Damian picked up on your pause and nodded to confirm that you were correct. "We go for walks every day and he never gets worked up over seeing another dog."
To be honest, you were glad that Titus had noticed you. You didn’t want to have Terry cause another scene with them or go up to him out of the blue, yet you still wanted to talk to Damian. You were intrigued by him, the son of the richest man in the city and you kept finding him in the same places that you liked to be.
"TT, Titus never barks," Damian agreed with your guys' dogs behavior. It was unusual. He looked down at your dog, and slowly dragged his gaze up your legs until he finally met your eyes. A faint blush covered his cheeks but in the bright sunlight, you didn’t notice. "I never learned your name last time."
"(Y/N)," You told him, sticking your hand out for him to shake. He paused for a moment before doing so and introducing himself. Of course, you already knew this but didn't say anything. "It's nice to meet you Damian. Sorry to disturb your afternoon, again."
"Nonsense," he told you. To be honest, he was quite glad that Titus grabbed you attention once more. He was curious to learn who you were after your first meeting with him. It was rare for someone to talk to him like a normal human, and as much as you were nervous around him, you tried to be normal.
"Um, I was just headed to get some iced coffee if you wanted to join me," You hesitantly asked. "Not that you have to or anything, but Terry looks like he has a crush on you and I wouldn't want to break his little heart." It was true, your dog had moved on from Titus and to the blood son himself.
However, you didn’t want to tell him that you too, wanted to spend a couple more minutes with him, at least. It wasn’t just your dog that was beginning to crush on him, you were pretty sure that you were too. It was strange, you barely even knew him and yet you couldn’t help but want to spend a few fleeing moments with him.
Terry had started my sniffing around Damian's ankles, to walking between his legs and getting the leash all wrapped around him. Once he had finally found the perfect spot, he started up at Damian with the same kind of look that he gave you when you were holding a treat.
Damian got out of the maze of rope and knelt down to scratch Terry's belly, who had licked his hand the moment it came near. You swore you saw him smile at the interaction.
While Terry was getting attention from Damian, Titus decided that he wanted you to scratch by his ears. He nudged your hand with his nose and you quickly took the hint.
"It is a beautiful day out to go get iced coffee," Damian agreed. "And you're right, I wouldn't want to break Terry's heart either.
You had gotten Damian's number that day. He told you that if you ever wanted to see Titus or have a puppy play date then you should give him a call. Of course, you were surprised to see the son of Bruce Wayne give away his cell phone number so easily to someone that he barely knew.
After getting your drinks, the two of you sat out in the sun and chatter about your dogs, school, and the tiniest bit about family. All you knew was that he had a lot of brothers that often got on his nerves and of course who his father was.
By the time that Terry was wining at you to go home, you both decided that it was time to depart. Damian patted Terry once more and bid goodbye. Titus licked your hand before leaving as well. You walked in opposite direction but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for whenever your next meeting would be.
The contact sat in your phone, untouched and not thought about again for weeks. After the first few days of debating whether or not to text him, you had gotten busy with school work and his number became the least of your worries. It wasn't until you saw Bruce on the TV did you remember that you had his number.
You texted him on Saturday morning asking if he wanted to meet up at the same dog park that you both met. He texted back rather fast agreeing to the plans and that he would see you that afternoon.
Which was why you had gone through seven outfits before deciding on the perfect casual and cute look. This wasn't a date, not even close to one, but this was also Damian Wayne, the same guy that wore expensive cashmere as a causal look. You wanted to look a little bit nice if you were going to be seen with him.
Ten minutes before he was supposed to arrive, you sat in your car talking to Terry. It was a habit that you gained from spending a little too much time by yourself. Then again, was there better company than your dog?
"This isn't a date, Terry. This is two friends meeting up because we both have dogs," you looked over at him. "Damian comes from a completely different world than us anyways, it's never going to happen, as much as you and I would like it to."
Once again, Terry barked at you in response. With a sigh, you left your car and walked over to the entrance of the park. Damian wasn't there yet but your dog was a little to excited to just sit and wait. You settled with letting him off leash and throwing his ball for him to fetch.
Terry came racing past you at such high speeds you didn't think he was going to be able to stop. And he hadn't, he went running past your spot and right towards Damian. You rolled your eyes at your dog. By his attitude, you were starting to think Terry liked Damian more than you.
"Hello, (Y/N)," Damian joined you. It didn't take long for your dogs to go play together and the two of you stood side by side watching them. You didn't quite trust Terry enough to not keep an eye on him.
He held a small frame in his hand and you wondered what it could be. Damian noticed your eyes it and handed it over to you. "I saw this the other day and thought of Terry."
It was a small framed picture of a hand drawn terrier and painted with water colours. It was beautiful. Damian would never admit to you that he didn’t buy it, but painted it himself. "It's yours."
He pushed the gift a little closer to you until you grabbed it. "Thank you, Damian. It's beautiful."
"You're welcome," he nodded. If there was one thing you quickly noticed about him, it was that he was a man of few words. He choose his words precisely and accurately. "How has school been?"
You were in the same grade as him, but different high schools. While he went to a private school, you weren't quite a privileged and had to go to a public school. It was fine, but university out of the city was calling your name and the time couldn’t pass by any slower.
"Busy," you shrugged. Truth be told you barely had time for anything. This was the first free moment you had in weeks and somehow you managed to spend it with Damian. "How about you?"
"Busy," he raised an eyebrow at you, the hint of a smirk on his lips. He was mocking you, again. "Do you have plans? After graduation?"
"Central City," you told him. "I want to go to school there for -"
You never got to finish your sentence. The two of you had lost track of your dogs and neither of you had noticed Titus barreling towards you. There was no way you could have moved in time or that he was going to stop.
Titus towered over you as he jumped towards you. You braved yourself to hit the grass but it had never come. Instead arms caught you and steadied you back on your feet. Damian managed to keep you from falling with amazing strengthens lightning quick reflexes.
He didn't let go of you like expected. Instead he looked at the growing wonder in your eyes and the realization of how close you were. You swore that he could hear your heart thumping in your chest.
Both your dogs barked at you and brought you out of the brief moment. Damian dropped his arms and you awkwardly stepped back. You straightened your clothing and tried to tame the bright flush that rose up your neck. Damian cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets.
"Thanks, for the save."
You kept the picture that Damian gave you on your desk in your room. Your mother, who always snooped through your room was quick to find it. She asked where you had found such a beautiful painting and after a moment of debating, you chose to tell her the truth. You were friends with Damian Wayne.
Growing up, you always figured that your mother had a little bit of a crush on Bruce Wayne. How could she not? He was rich, attractive, a great business man, he was perfect. You and your mother kept that little secret from your father - who you also suspected the attraction.
So when you told her that you knew his son, she had nearly squealed with excitement. And the fact that he had given you a gift as well? Your mother was already to start planning the wedding.
You were just friends with him, there was no need for her to freak out over this. However, you couldn't stop thinking about that brief moment that the two of you had a couple days before. Damian had the most mesmerizing green eyes that you had ever encountered in your life and you wanted nothing more than to look into them again.
However, you refrained from texting him about plans again. You talked to him daily since your last hang out but didn't want to force another puppy date - or just the two of you - for at least a few more days. He was a good friend, and you didn't want to spook him off before you got the chance to know him better.
Lucky for you, you never needed to worry about plans. Damian texted you the address of what you assumed to be a coffee shop just over a week since you had last seen him. You had to admit that waking up to his text Sunday morning had caused your heart to flutter with excitement.
By the time that you were dressed and on your way to the right place, it was just about ten in the morning. Terry was in your passenger's seat and his head was sticking out the window. As you pulled into the small parking space, you saw Damian waiting alone just outside the door.
His black hair was slicked back - different that it was every other time you saw him. You liked it that way, it showed off all his features and made it easier for you to admire. "Guess you weren't supposed to come, Ter," You looked over at your dog. "Oh well, too late now. Wish me luck, bud," you raised your hand for him to 'high-five', a trick you taught him a while ago.
Terry walked in front of you and was excited the moment that he laid eyes on Damian. He smiled as he saw you, an action you weren't expecting. "Sorry, I mentioned your name this morning and he wouldn't let me leave the house without him."
"You talk to him a lot, you know," Damian pointed out. A faint blush rose up your neck. "I saw you, both times in the car." Your cheeks felt like they were on fire - this could not be happening. He laughed at your embarrassment, the kind of teasing that made you wonder if he was trying to flirt. You desperately hoped that was the case.
Damian had the tendency to tease you lots when you spend time with him. Most of the time you could tell that he was joking, but the other majority of the time you couldn’t help but feel that there was more too it. A glimmer of something would shine in his eyes - a look that you couldn’t help but melt under.
"No worries, I talk to Titus all the time. He's the only one that doesn't come up with idiotic responses,” Damian assured, placing his hand on your shoulder. It was the first time that he had even come near to touching you on purpose and the shiver that ran up your spine had to have meant something.
"Dogs truly are man's best friend," You agreed. Damian retracted his hand and reached down to pat Terry on the head for a brief moment.
"Wait until you see my pet cow."
"You have a cow?" You didn't know what was more shocking - the fact that he truly owned a cow or that he wished you to come visit him at his home. Damian only nodded, he had many pets.
Terry was aimlessly walked between yours and Damian's legs. You didn't realize how much available leash he had until he had completely wrapped himself around the both of you. You weren't paying any attention to him - which once again had been a mistake on your behalf.
Another dog walked by on the street. Terry wasn't big, or strong, but when he wanted to pull, he could give a vicious tug. This happened just at the wrong time. You were trying to untangle yourself and as Terry tried to attack the passing dog, he had forced you to lose balance.
Once again, Damian had managed to catch up before you landed on the cement. You had gotten your wish of wanting to be close to him again. To smell the sharp cologne he wore and notice all the little imperfections on his face. The faint scars, the freckles on his dark skin. He truly was just as beautiful, if not more, as his father.
"I think our dogs are trying to get us together," You blurted out. First Titus, now Terry. They were the reason that you had met and the reason that you had stumbled into his arms twice now. You hadn't meant to speak you thoughts but it was true. You really thought that the dogs were aware of your feelings and were trying to make you act on them.
"I don't know about you and Terry, but I trust Titus with my life."
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I'll Do Better (d.w. x reader)
requested by @theichabbieclub: Hello !!! Can I have Dean Winchester x reader? Reader has been so caught up in her work that they forget to eat. They get extremely lightheaded and stumble a little. Dean steadies them and he is worried when he finds out they forgot to eat. While he is making food they faint and land (luckily) on the couch. When he's done, he comes back,at first he thinks that they're just laying down but he kinda freaks out when he realizes that reader is unconscious. ( I forget to eat sometimes) THANK YOU🥺💚
pairing: Dean Winchester x gender-neutral!reader
warnings: soft Dean bcoz that's always a warning :')
A/N: love I really really hope you take care of yourself better I can be your personal reminder to eat something healthy every day if you want!! also I hope it's okay that I used that the reader is working in lockdown. I thought a student would've been too young or something :/
You have to stop and steady yourself on a wall before you can walk again from the short walk of your office room to the kitchen where you know your boyfriend's currently in.
He's always in it.
As you walk over, you mentally calculate the number of hours since you last ate and realise it's been long and it's time to eat something.
You forget to eat sometimes when you're too engrossed in your work, usually not getting this bad, though.
You have to steady yourself again on the counter of the kitchen, a lightheadedness washing over you.
"(Y/N)?" His concerned voice reaches you through the fog settling over your brain.
"I'm fine." You weakly said.
"Obviously not." Dean wraps his arms around your waist, allowing you to lean into him. "Did you eat something today?"
Your office starts before he even wakes up so it was usually him lazily, and sneakily, coming to the room, kissing your forehead softly and going out again. He couldn't always remind you for breakfast. He has been trying to get up early for the same and you loved him more for that.
He led you to the living room, saying he'll be right back with some instant noodles while you wait.
You were looking for the blanket when another wave of dizziness hit you. You fell down on the couch with a soft thud, not being able to fight any longer.
Dean came in with the promised meal in hand, smiling as he thought you were asleep from all the weariness. But when he tried waking you up because you still needed food and you gave no response, he started worrying.
"(Y/N)?" He shook your shoulders. "Hey, (Y/N)!" His brain raced, trying to come up with something.
He splashed some water on your face, shaking your shoulders again. You let out a weak groan, rubbing your eyes free of the water. He sighed in relief.
"You scared me there for a moment." He said, helping you up and nestling the container of noodles into your palms.
"What?" You groggily speak out.
"Nothing." He smiled at you, feeding you the first couple of bites.
After the meal, you felt like you had enough energy to carry a conversation.
"I am sorry." You said, eyes cast downwards. He smiled in return, pulling you to his side and kissing your hair.
"It's fine, don't worry about it." He said, intertwining your hands in his.
"I'll do better, I promise." You said, kissing his jaw.
"I know you will. I'll be with you every step of the way." He smiled at you before leaning in for a lazy and soft kiss.
TAGLISTS ARE OPEN!
I hope this was okay, I have never been in the situation you described so honestly I just went ahead with what came in my mind. I apologise if it's not correct! thank you so much for reading!
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miracle on cornelia street [dean/castiel]
so BASICALLY sarah @adanceinasnowglobe and i were talking about what everyone would be up to post-series -- yknow, like, now that theyre all safe and healthy n everythings cool and destiel is officially together. yknow. as happened in canon -- and we were like so obviously destiel get a house, and thats kind of the basis of this verse so !! this is the foundational fic for what i HOPE will be a series of fun lil day-in-the-life drabbles, from both me and sarah!!
ehehehe :-) enjoy!
read on AO3
The house is a quaint thing, sitting low and snug under a pair of shady oak trees in a quiet suburb just outside of downtown Lawrence. Its brickwork face is weathered—definitely in need of a good power wash—and the roof is just as worn. The bottom step to the porch slants unevenly, and the porch itself has cracks in the concrete. There are chips in the paint on the window frames, the iron porch railing is rusting, and who knows when the gutters were last given a proper cleaning.
There’s a lot of work to be done, but standing there in the small front lawn, Dean Winchester can’t say if he’s ever seen anyplace else so perfect as the house at 3767 Cornelia Street. Dean’s house—his home. His home with Cas.
“Can you believe it?” he quietly says to Miracle, who has been sitting patiently by Dean’s leg. Miracle tilts her head and wags her tail. Dean looks back up at the house. “Yeah, me neither.”
The sound of a familiar car rumbling up the road snaps Dean out of his reverie. He rubs a knuckle at his eye and clears his throat and tries to look like he hadn’t been standing in his front yard about to cry while talking to his dog, christ.
The car rolls to a stop on the curb just in front of the house. The driver’s side door opens, and Sam slowly unfolds his ridiculous limbs as he gets out. It’s always a wonder how he can fit himself into a car at all. Sam gives a dorky little wave as he ambles over to where Dean is standing.
Dean peers behind Sam, trying to see into the car. “What, no Eileen?”
“Hello to you, too. Dick,” he replies snarkily. “She’s wrapping up a work thing. She’ll come over when she’s done.”
Dean sucks his teeth in disappointment. “Ah, well. Guess you can go home then.” Sam shoves at his shoulder. Dean just laughs and pulls Sam in for a proper hello hug.
“Why are you standing out here, anyway?” Sam asks when they part.
“Can’t a man just hang out in his own front yard? Accompanied by a dashing canine companion?” He leans down to pat Miracle on the head.
“I guess…” Sam looks down at Miracle. When she tips her head up and gazes back at him, Sam snorts.
“Miracle on Cornelia Street,” Sam says with mirth.
Dean squints at him. “What?” he repeats, now more incredulous.
“You know—like Miracle on 34th Street. But we’re on Cornelia, so.” He nods down at the dog. “Miracle on Cornelia Street.”
“Dude.” Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s goofy grin and starts walking up the path to the house, Miracle trotting behind him. “Shut up and come inside already.”
Sam follows after him, pausing just inside the threshold as he spots something on the doorframe. “Oh, classy,” he says, throwing a sardonic look to where D.W. and C.W. are scratched into the wood.
“Just wait,” Dean jokes with a toothy smile, “when I got the time I’m gonna draw a little heart around it.” He was joking, but now that he said it, he kind of wanted to.
Cas looks up from the stove when they walk into the dining room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s old AC/DC tees, the logo all but worn away from being washed so many times. He’s usually in some ratty tee or other when lounging around these days. But in honor of Sam’s visit today (Cas’ words) and to seem a little more dressy short of donning his usual button-downs (Dean’s private opinion), he’s also wearing the cable-knit cardigan Sam got him as a gift last Christmas. “Hi, Sam.”
Sam leans against the counter that separates the dining and kitchen areas, craning his giraffe neck to catch a glimpse at the stove. “Hey, Cas! What’cha cooking?”
“Nothing. Dean made it. I was just watching the pot so it didn’t boil over.” He locks eyes with Dean, his intent stare very clearly communicating I did not touch the chili I added nothing I did not touch the dial I was just watching it like you asked so don’t even start.
Dean just smiles as he walks past the counter and steps into Cas’ space. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, and busses Cas on the cheek.
“You’re welcome,” Cas replies warmly. He’s gazing up at Dean with those summer afternoon blue eyes, standing in one of Dean’s shirts and that dorky cardigan, and Dean starts to get full of that feeling from out in the front yard again. If they were alone, Dean would probably say something recklessly sappy like I am so stupid in love with you.
As it is, Dean clears his throat and turns back to Sam, slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders, and says, “He did the salad.”
Cas sneaks him a knowing look before, thankfully, putting his attention on Sam without commenting on Dean’s hasty redirection. “I did the salad,” Cas agrees blithely, and places the salad bowl on the counter for Sam to see, seeming pleased with himself.
Sam looks between the two of them, an amused tilt to his eyebrow that Dean implicitly distrusts. He’s definitely thinking mocking thoughts about the two of them. But he just quirks a smile and says, “It looks great.” Shrewd little diplomat.
Cas shifts to the side to see past Sam’s shoulder. Sam glances behind himself before shooting Cas a confused look.
“She’s still at work,” Dean tells Cas, guessing who he’s looking for. “Sadly.”
“What, am I not good enough?”
“Of course you are,” Cas promises earnestly, just as Dean says, “Well…”
Sam’s opening his mouth to retort, probably something absolutely scathing, when his phone chimes. He pulls it out of his pocket, a smile spreading over his face. “Speak of the devil,” he says, then tips his head with a grimace, “as it were. That was Eileen. She’ll be here soon, so I’m gonna go wash up.”
“Bathroom’s down the hall—“
“Dude, I know where it is. I did help you guys move in.”
Dean spreads his hands in assent. “Fine, christ, I swear never to be a good host to you in my home ever again. Go ahead and go take your dump now.”
“I’m not gonna—ohmygodnevermind.” He turns on his heel and huffs down the hall, Miracle trotting after him, the tags on her collar clinking together jauntily.
Dean reaches past Cas to turn the burner off, then lands his hand on Cas’ hip. “Have I told you today how cute you are in that sweater?”
“Yes.” Cas brings his hands up to cradle Dean’s face. “Four times.”
“Make it five.” Dean kisses him. He pulls Cas into a hug, pressing his face against Castiel’s shoulder. They sway into each other. After a warm moment, Dean says in a low voice, “The first family dinner in our house.”
Cas hums a soft, contented sound in agreement. “The first of many,” he responds, just as quiet. Dean squeezes him tighter. He knows they’re both thinking about Jack and Claire, their bedrooms sitting empty and waiting for whenever they can find the time to visit—and Kaia and Alex and Jody with Claire, if they can, and Charlie and her girlfriend, and Bobby, and all the other wayward extensions of their sprawling family caught out in the wind. Their house isn’t big enough to host everyone, but with Sam and Eileen up the block and the bunker just a few miles out, there’s plenty of room to put up people who come out their way. Dean has the hope that 3767 Cornelia Street becomes a common pitstop for folks—a suburban Roadhouse, a tidier (much tidier) Singer Salvage.
Dean presses a kiss against Cas’ neck, and Cas breathes a sweet little sigh that pushes all thoughts about future dinners right out the window. Fuck, this dinner could go out the window, for all he cares. He kisses a little higher up, right under Cas’ jawline, before pulling back to catch Castiel’s darkened gaze. “How ‘bout we ditch the nag and go have a private party of our own?”
“Dean, no. I worked really hard on that salad.” He sounds perfectly serious, but the playful glint in his eye gives him away. Dean snorts, mumbling oh, forgive me, Chef Cas as he leans in again.
Just as they kiss, Sam walks back in. “Hey, I think something’s wrong with your sink–- oh, sorry.”
“Huh?” Dean reluctantly pulls away as Sam clears his throat, looking sheepish. “What’s wrong with what, Sammy?”
“Uh, with your bathroom.”
“The bathroom? Oh, what, you clogged the toilet?”
“Wha— N— I DID NOT SHIT IN YOUR BATHROOM.”
“Then how did the toilet get messed up?”
“It’s the SINK, the SINK—”
“You took a shit in the sink?”
Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean…”
“What? He started it.”
Dean snaps his fingers. “The end of the world.”
“Oh! My god!”
“I guess technically, yeah, since god is our kid...” He turns to Cas. “Weird, weird lives we lead.”
Cas just shakes his head, clearly exasperated. Sam has given up on speaking completely and has fallen back on making a gesture like he’s one second away from grabbing Dean by the throat.
“I was there for all twelve years of it,” Sam says to Cas, “and I still can’t believe you stayed with this guy.”
“Well,” Cas muses serenely, “you’ve been here a lot longer than me.”
Sam grimaces when Dean throws him his best shit-eating grin. Nothing like his two favorite people bonding over how much of a pain he is.
The sound of the front door opening distracts them, and then a voice calls, “Knock knock! The life of the party has arrived!”
“Eileen!” Sam exclaims happily. Miracle takes off down the hall, Sam hot on her heels.
Dean chuckles at Sam’s unabashed excitement, then gives Castiel another peck on the cheek before moving away from him. “Can you put everything out on the table? I’ll go check out the bathroom sitch real quick.”
Cas catches his hand as he starts to leave, softly saying his name. When Dean looks back at him, Cas smiles and says, “I love you.”
Dean wonders if maybe three time’s the charm and he should just give in to what his body wants him to do. If a man has a right to stand around and cry messily anywhere in his own home, surely the kitchen would be the place to do it. The kitchen, after all, is the heart of any house.
But Dean doesn’t. He indulges in a little sniffle, Cas’ eyes glimmering with knowing in the soft light. Dean brings Cas’ hand to his mouth and kisses the neat gold band around his finger, and he kisses each peaked knuckle, and he turns Cas’ hand over and kisses his palm and his wrist. Then he lets go and puts his own hand against Cas’ cheek, and says his recklessly sappy thing: “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
And the glowing feeling inside him doesn’t settle, only grows brighter.
Whatever’s wrong with the sink will be just one more thing to a long list of shit to deal with. Their house needs work, no denying. But Dean knows they’ve got plenty of time.
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May 2021 Book Club Picks
The Midwife’s Apprentice by Karen Cushman: The girl had nothing - no home, no family, not even a name of her own. Taken in by Jane, the hot-tempered midwife, as an apprentice, the girl - Brat, Beetle, and eventually Alyce - learns gains confidence, courage, and knowledge that will lead her to the true path towards happiness.
Enlightening Delilah by Marion Chesney: Amy and Effie Tribble return to help another unruly young lady find a husband by Season’s end. This time, the sisters must contend with heartbreaker Delilah Wraxall, who has declined a strong of proposals after having her own heart broken years ago by the dashing Sir Charles Digby. Now, Sir Charles has come back into Delilah’s life, and the Tribble sisters have to work harder than ever before to make sure Delilah’s plans to make Sir Charles jealous don’t bring about ruination for all parties involved.
Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin: An American expatriate living in Paris, struggling with his sexuality and desperate to lead the conventional life expected of him, falls into a passionate love affair with an Italian bartender.
Ring Shout by P. Djeli Clark: It’s 1922 in Macon, Georgia, and the Klan’s reign of terror runs deep. But as Maryse Boudreaux and her band of hunters and markswomen know, the white hoods and burning crosses aren’t the scariest thing about the Klan. It’s the literal monsters in its ranks - Ku Kluxes, hate-fueled beasts that feed off human prejudice, brought into our world during the first screening of D.W. Griffiths’ Birth of a Nation. Now, a mysterious Ku Klux general, Butcher Clyde, is planning something big, something that may bring about the end of the world, drawing Maryse back to Stone Mountain, and forcing her not only to confront and entire army of Ku Kluxes, but other things she would rather stay buried.
Mediocre: The Dangerous Legacy of White Male America by Ijeoma Oumo: Oumo discusses the history of America’s obsession with white manhood, and how everyone who doesn’t fall under that category has suffered because of it.
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Welcome to the Hunter’s World Ch. 2
Summary: A young woman gets thrown into the world of hunters and monsters after being attacked by her supposed boyfriend, and learns that not everything is as it appears. Deciding she wants to learn how to fight these things, she asks the Winchesters for help, and along the way, starts feeling something unexpected for the older Winchester.
Trigger Warnings: Blood, major character near death, canon typical violence, mentions of abuse, if I forgot to list any, please let me know in a comment!
Beta Reader: In progress [Wanted to get it posted so this may be updated soon!]
Pairing: Eventual Dean Winchester x Original Female Character
Word Count: 1966
Story under the cut!
Chapter TwoImogene sat at the table in the kitchen, which was more like a countertop with barstools, eating her breakfast. She had made some coffee as well, sipping some from a mug while she thought about the events of the past several days.
I know Ryder wasn’t the nicest guy in the world but… why did he attack me like that? she thought, frowning down at the plate. The more she thought about it, the more it made her stomach turn. Starting to feel nauseated, she finally pushed the food away, her appetite waning. With a sigh, she stood up, moving to dump the rest of the eggs into the trash.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing? Those eggs didn’t do anything to you,” a gruff voice called out from behind her. She turned to face him, eyes wide as she paused mid-action. “Unless they’re bad, in which case, throw them out, by all means.”
“You’re not Sam…” she squeaked, looking up at him, trembling slightly. He walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug, nodding.
“Got that right. I’m the better looking one, Dean. And you must be Imogene.” He looked at her again, eyebrows raised. His eyes looked her over before he drank his coffee. She shrank back a little, not used to being scrutinized by people after what Ryder had done to her.
“So, how did you get my number?”
She looked at him, walking cautiously over and setting the plate, the eggs still on it, back on the counter; she wasn’t sure how to react to Dean yet. Sam had been so nice and calm, while Dean was straight to the point and a little rough. It was clear he didn’t trust her.
“From… my father…” she told him softly, eyes staying on him now. He watched her as he waited for her to continue and she sighed, voice still trembling and small. “His name is Silas Winters. He got it from Bobby Singer.”
Dean bristled slightly as she mentioned Bobby’s name, staring her down for a moment. The stance he took caused her to flash back to the times Ryder had yelled at her, calling her harsh names for something as simple as dropping a fork. When she saw him move, a yelp slipped from her lips and she pressed back against the counter.
“Bobby Singer? Your dad knew Bobby Singer? Then how come your name isn’t familiar at all?” His tone was harsh, obviously not believing her. He moved closer, his hands sitting on the counter around her. She shrank away from him, pressing back against the counter more, shaking as she looked at him. Fear coursed through her, once again remembering how badly her boyfriend, Ryder, berated her; she couldn’t even call her family and had had no friends to run to. Her heart started to race and she could no longer face him.
“I-I don’t know!” she replied, covering her head with tears starting to prick at her eyes. “He was a friend of my dad, they used to go hunting together before I was born… I only ever met him once or twice…” She trembled and her knees started to feel weak, stuck back in the times when her boyfriend would corner her and scream at her for nothing more than an accident. Slowly, she slid down the counter to the floor, shaking and crying. Dean immediately stepped back. She scurried on all fours to curl in the corner, hugging her knees close to her.
“Whoa, whoa, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to – to scare you. I just…” He paused for a moment, gazing at her for only a moment before he continued, “We can’t have any risks. You say your dad went hunting with Bobby?” he asked, voice softening, harsh edge gone as he ran a hand over his face. He felt awful for causing her state, not sure how to help. She nodded slowly, not moving otherwise. After a few moments hesitation, he sighed. With a glance her way, he noticed she seemed to have relaxed slightly, so he tried a gentler approach this time.
“Come on, come over here and sit with me. Let’s talk,” he tried. She looked up at him, tears on her face as she moved to stand up slowly, taking a seat on one of the stools, leaving space between them. Her eyes dropped back to the floor again.
There were several moments more of silence before Dean continued.
“Bobby was a hunter, but he didn’t hunt animals. He hunted things like the guy you were living with. See, that guy, he was a demon. And for some reason he was hellbent on killing you. You did the right thing, contacting us like that.” He looked at her, hoping she would look at him. When she still didn’t, he stood up, noting the eggs still abandoned. A frown touched his lips and he looked back at her, noting that she still seemed frightened.
“What kinds of things do you like to eat? I need to make a run for supplies, I can pick you something up,” he tried, his voice still gentle. Finally, she looked at him, still timid, but no longer shaking or crying. She bit her lip, thinking.
“Uhm… m-maybe… maybe a cheeseburger for lunch? And… if it’s not too much trouble… some juice? I’m not – not picky on the flavor.”
Dean nodded in reply, smiling slightly.
“Yea, I can handle that. Go ahead and get rid of those eggs. I’ll bring you back something good,” he promised before heading out of the kitchen. Imogene smiled a little to herself, finding a little comfort in the fact that he, at least, apologized when she had gotten scared. She decided then he was nothing like the man she had been with. Then she paused, what he had said finally sinking in.
Wait… demon? she thought, looking towards the door he had just gone through.
* * *
While Dean was out, Imogene decided to explore a little more. She found the library, scanning the titles slowly. She found none that piqued her curiosity, taking a seat, looking at the table.
Hm? What’s this? she thought, noting the initials carved in it. The S.W. and D.W. Must be their initials, she guessed. When she heard footsteps, she looked up, spotting Sam. She waved and smiled gently.
“Hi, Sam,” she greeted softly. He waved back to her, coming to sit with her, setting his laptop on the table. He took a seat across from her, opening the computer.
“Hey, did you have a nice breakfast?” he asked, smiling at her. She nodded a little.
“Yea, it was alright. And I met your brother…” she whispered, recalling the encounter with Dean. A little smile showed on her face when she remembered him trying to calm her. Sam looked at her curiously.
“You’re smiling after a meeting with my brother?” he asked with a soft chuckle. “Are you sure it was the same Dean I know?”
She blushed a little and cleared her throat.
“At first he was a little rough, and he scared me, but then he was actually… nice. He even offered to bring me something back while he’s out running errands.”
Sam raised his eyebrows.
“Huh. That’s nice of him. Glad you got to see that side already.” Sam smiled a little before looking back at the screen and starting to search for cases. Imogene didn’t say anymore, instead she started to look around the library. None of the book titles made any sense to her.
“Sam? What are… all these books?” She pulled one from the shelf as he looked up. He furrowed his brows, contemplating what to say.
“They’re… lore. Myths and legends and stuff.” He got up and walked over, seeing which book she was holding. “That one is about shifters; creatures who can turn into other people. It tells about how to tell what they are and how to slay them, things like that.” He carefully watched her reactions as she slid the book back into place.
“Dean told me my ex was a demon. So… are things like that real then, Sam?” she asked. He thought for several moments before answering.
“Yea. Pretty much every horror movie creature you’ve heard of is real…” he replied gently, brushing back his hair. He saw her tense and waited, ready to jump in if needed. However, she didn’t seem too shaken.
“Dean said that… Bobby hunted things like that. My dad, he used to mention hunting trips with old friends… I guess maybe… maybe he meant those?” she whispered, glancing at him. Sam frowned but nodded a little.
“If he worked with Bobby, he probably did. You don’t seem too surprised.”
She shook her head a little.
“I’ve been… processing since Dean mentioned that’s what Ryder… my ex, now, I guess, was…” she told him. Then she walked back over and sat across from him. “Tell me everything?”
* * *
Dean came in with some bags, one holding the cheeseburger and juice Imogene had asked for, and another holding the food for himself and what he knew Sam would like. He looked around the main room before peeking into the library. He saw Sam talking with Imogene, but he couldn’t really tell what the two were saying. She seemed fascinated by whatever he was telling her, nodding eagerly. After a few moments, he walked over and knocked on the table to get their attention.
“Not interrupting anything, am I?” He grinned at Sam, wiggling his eyebrows at him. Imogene jumped a little and Sam turned to look at him, frowning a little before responding.
“I was just bringing Imogene up to speed on things that go bump in the night,” he explained. She nodded, moving to stand up.
“Vampires and werewolves… they’re real?” she whispered, looking at Dean. Something still turned in her stomach when she looked at him, though it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He nodded.
“Yea, they’re real. Along with ghosts, shapeshifters, demons, angels, just about anything you can imagine,” he told her bluntly. Her face paled slightly and he changed the subject. “Come on, I have lunch for you in the kitchen.” Over her shoulder, he added, “And some rabbit food for Sammy.”
Sam frowned at him again, looking at him.
“Really, Dean? Do you have to call it that?” He got up and followed the two of them to the kitchen.
Once they sat down, Imogene gratefully accepted the burger and juice, smiling shyly at Dean and thanking him before taking a drink. Her eyes widened a little as she looked at it; it was fruit punch, her favorite kind. She glanced at him before returning to her food. He didn’t seem to notice, but Sam did. He smirked slightly to himself as he ate his salad, talking with Dean about a case lead he had found while he was out.
“Should be a simple salt and burn it seems like, in the next town over. We can go check it out or I can ask one of the other hunters to instead,” he told him. Dean nodded.
“Yea, I’ll go and take care of it. You stay here with Imogene,” he told him. Before Sam could protest, she interjected.
“Genie… You can call me Genie, Dean. All… all my friends do.” She smiled softly again, and he smiled back a little.
“Getting sweet on me already, huh?” he asked, tone playful, and she blushed. She quickly looked away and he chuckled. “I’m just kidding.” Then he turned back to Sam. “You stay here and help Genie get adjusted. If I need you, I’ll call.”
Sam started to protest again, but sighed and finally nodded.
“Yea, alright. Be careful out there.”
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