#while sam in the background is certainly like: this is how we usually talk????

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

Cas reacting to Sam's remarks when they're alone:

Cas reacting to Sam's remarks... when Dean is around:

he's a poor little meow meow 🥺

#cas being like: deannn i'm hurt your brother is mean to me 🥺 #as if he's not always the snarkiest bitch of the room #and dean rushing to comfort him #while sam in the background is certainly like: this is how we usually talk???? #cas vs sam #spn 9x11 #spn 11x03 #spn 12x10 #destiel #my post

[tippedbykreider]

it's all coming back to me | c. kreider (part viii)

(Part VII ICYMI)

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: slow burn, exes to lovers, relationship breakdown, swearing, alcohol, 18+

Author’s Note: This feels like progress. Doesn't this feel like progress to you?

Summary: Chris Kreider x Reader Insert. They say that all good things come to an end, that you can never have too much of a good thing, but when Chris decided to end your relationship you wondered how anything could ever be good again. A chance meeting 9 years later drags up all those feelings you both thought you were done with. Can you work through your hurt and pain to see what it is that Chris is trying to show you? Or are some things better left forgotten?

Tagging: @laurenairay; @thebookofmags; @whatishockey; @robindrake13

~

It had been over a week.

It had been over a week since Chris had heard from you and over a week since you’d shared you were going on a second date with Sam and his disposition could only be described as sour. Chris had few smiles for his teammates, even Mika, and his temperament when it came to reporters was uncharacteristically surly. Perhaps the worst part of it all was that he’d once again found himself in a slump and despite him trying his utmost to drown out the background noise that was the internet, it was hard to ignore comments that called for his immediate trade. He wondered if you’d noticed. He wondered if you even cared.

The Rangers’ latest win against the visiting Capitals hadn’t hit the way that it should and despite the jovial atmosphere in the locker room, Chris felt anything but.

“You comin’ out for a few, Kreids?” Lindy asked as he took off his pads.

“Nah,” Chris shook his head. “Not tonight.”

“Awww, c’mon,” Trouba piped up. “Not even for one drink? If this is about the turnover in the neutral zone-”

“It’s not,” Chris snapped before exhaling to collect himself, a forced evenness in his voice as he spoke again. “It’s not about the turnover. I’m just not feeling up to it tonight.”

Mika gave Trouba a look that told him not to push.

“A’ight,” Jacob shrugged as he turned away.

Chris wordlessly removed the rest of his pads, pulling at the velcro with more force than was necessary, all the while Mika watched him with furrowed brows.

“Hey, how about we grab a quiet drink somewhere, just the two of us?” he offered, quiet enough for Chris’ ears only.

“Mika-”

“One drink,” Mika pressed gently. “One drink and I swear I’ll let you go home to mope.”

“‘m not moping,” Chris groused as he stood and grabbed his towel.

“Sulk, then.”

Chris went to protest but stopped himself at the good-natured smile his best friend was giving him and simply sighed instead.

“Fine,” Chris conceded. “One drink.”

Chris didn’t see Mika’s triumphant little smile as he turned away to head to the showers but he knew Mika well enough to know that he’d be feeling rather pleased with himself right about now. He also knew that Mika would coax out the truth about what was truly bothering him, one way or another and he knew that would mean having to talk about you, which he truthfully didn’t know how he felt about. Perhaps it would be good to get it all out, to get a third party perspective on it all, but it still didn’t change what happened and it certainly didn’t change the fact that you were clearly moving on with your life. 

The walk from Madison Square Garden was mostly silent but not uncomfortably so. Mika had found a quiet little piano bar in Chelsea that wasn’t too far and there was little chance of them running into any teammates. The pair slid into a booth near the back of the bar and shrugged out of their jackets, Chris picking up the menu and studying it intently as if that would stop Mika from pursuing whatever line of questioning he knew was imminent. Mika watched him, his usually soft eyes uncharacteristically keen while he waited. Chris could feel Mika’s gaze on him, steady and unwavering and after a few more breaths he put down the menu with a soft exhale. Better to rip the band aid off and get this over with.

“So what’s going on with you?” Mika asked.

“Wow, cutting right to the chase,” Chris remarked. “We’ve not even ordered our drinks yet.”

“Figured I’d get ahead,” Mika shrugged in reply, eyes still keen on Chris.

Chris paused for a moment and glanced around the bar, giving himself time to gather and order his thoughts. He supposed he didn’t need to start from the very beginning, given that Mika knew about you, at least in part.

“Remember when we met up after summer break and you asked me if there was a girl?”

“Yeah, which you denied pretty enthusiastically,” Mika replied, a little smile playing on his lips. “There was, wasn’t there? I knew you were bullshitting us.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Chris shook his head.

“Sure it is. There either was a girl or there wasn’t.”

Chris exhaled.

“Remember that girl from college I told you about?”

“The one you lived with, right?” Mika asked.

“Yeah,” Chris answered, his eyes sad. “She was the only person I’ve ever loved, like truly loved.”

Mika nodded in wordless encouragement.

“And I messed up pretty bad,” Chris continued, his voice rougher than Mika had ever heard it. “I hurt her.”

“C’mon, Chris,” Mika said gently. “I know you and I know that you’d never hurt anyone intentionally.”

“Doesn’t matter if it was intentional or not,” Chris countered. “My actions hurt her. I thought in some stupid way that by doing what I did, I was protecting her but it wasn’t my decision to make. I left her behind in Boston because I thought I was doing right by her but I never even asked her what she wanted.”

“You were young, Chris,” Mika reasoned. “You made the decision you thought was right at the time.”

“Doesn’t mean it was truly the right one though, does it?”

Mika watched as Chris’ shoulders rose and fell with his sigh, giving him a moment before speaking again.

“So what happened?”

“I bumped into her,” Chris answered plainly. “In Rowayton of all places.”

“No shit,” Mika exhaled. “Did she recognise you?”

“I recognised her first.”

Mika chewed his lip for a moment while he processed Chris’ revelation.

“That’s… huge,” Mika said eventually, Chris merely nodding in response. “What happened? Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah,” Chris replied. “And we got talking and it was rough and she bolted, which is fair, y’know? But then I bumped into her again in Stamford.”

“Fuck,” Mika breathed. “Like bumping into her once? That’s nothing to really pay attention to, but twice?”

“Feels like some sort of shitty joke on the universe’s part, right?”

“Or divine intervention,” Mika offered. “If Irma were here she’d say that was a sign that the two of you weren’t done.”

“Oh, I think we’re pretty done,” Chris grimaced. “She’s been moving on.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because she told me,” Chris said matter of factly.

“So you guys have been talking, then?”

“We met up again in person and talked more about stuff, y’know, about what happened with us. Since then we’ve exchanged a few texts here and there,” Chris confirmed. “And it kind of felt like things were going somewhere, I don’t know where exactly but… I dunno, it just felt less strained and maybe like something resembling friendship, and then she told me that she’d been on a date with a guy and that went well so they arranged a second one.”

“And how do you feel about that?” Mika asked.

“Like shit,” Chris replied bluntly. “And I know I have no right to because I’m not anything to her anymore, but…”

“It still hurts,” Mika nodded. “And it’s gonna. She was your girl, Chris. You loved her, that sort of stuff doesn’t just go away.”

“It has for her,” Chris countered. 

“You don’t really know that,” Mika offered. “You don’t know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling.”

“No,” Chris conceded. “But it’s been a decade and she’s dating and that’s enough of a sign. I couldn’t have expected her to still be waiting on me after all this time, not after what I did. So I told her I was happy for her but she’s left me on ‘read’.”

“Shit, Chris. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” Chris shrugged, relieved at the sight of the waitress coming over to take their order and giving him a much needed reprieve.

To Chris’ surprise, Mika didn’t push the subject further once their drinks were ordered and conversation turned to Mika and Irma’s upcoming wedding. True to his word, Mika didn’t press Chris to stay for a second drink and the two parted ways with a hug and a goodnight, Chris taking the short walk home to his apartment while Mika grabbed an Uber. 

Somehow the apartment felt emptier tonight, hollow even. Perhaps it was simply reflecting Chris’ energy right back at him, perhaps not, but as Chris hung up his jacket and kicked off his shoes he couldn’t help but pay attention to the ache that sat deep within his chest. It had been years since he’d come home to you, so long that, truthfully, he wasn’t even sure if he could really remember just what that was like. Your apartment together always smelled so good, Chris remembered that much, always a vanilla candle burning whenever you were home, and you would always call out ‘Marco’ to him whenever he stepped through the door, eagerly awaiting his ‘Polo’ in reply. You would repeat this until you finally got eyes on him, greeting him with a “hello, Marco” and a big smile. He never truly understood why you did it, but he would indulge you every single time without question.

The hurt washed over him again, like a rogue wave and he couldn’t help the quiet sniffle that escaped him. You’d never been in this apartment, he’d never experienced the grace of your presence in this space he called ‘home’ and yet tonight it seemed so barren without you, completely devoid of any vibrancy. He wondered how that was possible, how a space could miss something it never had, how his apartment felt as if it had a you shaped hole in it when it had never known anything other than Chris. Perhaps this place had never been whole and that it was only now, in the swirling waters of his hurt and grief, that Chris was realising it. Maybe it wasn’t the apartment at all that wasn’t whole, maybe it was Chris and he was beginning to wonder if he’d ever truly been whole since the day he closed the door on your shared home in Boston for the last time.

*

It took you three days to reply to Sam.

You’d picked up your phone to do it multiple times over the 72 hour period, even getting as far as opening the text conversation on a few occasions, but each time something stopped you right in your tracks. You couldn’t deny the fact that Chris had been on your mind more often than not over the last couple of days and that in itself was equal parts maddening and confusing. You were angry with yourself for allowing your mind to wander the way that it had, angry that you had let yourself slip but you continued to tell yourself that thinking about Chris subconsciously while you touched yourself meant nothing. It was the wine. It had to be the wine.

And yet despite this, you still hadn’t rushed to reach out to Sam either and perhaps that spoke even more volumes. You’d very quickly chased away the idea that you were hesitating because of Chris, it simply being too ludicrous to give any sort of meaningful acknowledgement, but you also couldn’t think of any other tangible reason for it either. Even as you finally text Sam back, there was the distinct sense that it was forced, something you hoped wouldn’t come across in your message, and even as you found yourself agreeing to date number three, it all just felt a little contrived. A little insincere. You hoped as the days passed that the feeling would dissipate, that the thoughts of Chris would recede like fog being chased away by the mid-morning sun and you would rekindle those feelings of initial excitement at the prospect of new romance, but as you stood in front of your closet ahead of your date trying to decide what dress to wear, you felt nothing.

The kiss Sam gave you as he picked you up didn’t flutter the butterflies in your stomach like it had done before and the feeling of your hand in his as you walked from the car to the restaurant felt foreign, wrong even. You’d suggested doing something different this time, like a movie or bowling, but Sam had insisted on taking you to dinner with the promise that you could choose the date activity next time. You couldn’t help but think back to your dates with Chris, the pasta making class he’d booked where you both left absolutely covered in flour, the time he took you ice skating, the time you made a Christmas wreath together for your apartment door. All the concerts, the plays, trips to bookstores and record shops, walks in the park with kisses that tasted of coffee and cake. Those dates in each other’s dorms where Chris would somehow manage to eat a 16 inch pizza to himself and still finish strong with a pint of ice cream. You smiled involuntarily at the memory before it quickly faded at the sound of the restaurant door closing behind you, bringing you back down to Earth.

You forced a smile through dinner, socially aware enough to know when to nod and laugh in all the right places, but you couldn’t deny the overwhelming relief in your chest when the check came. You’d hoped that Sam hadn’t noticed; he hadn’t seemed to but you then questioned whether he was simply being polite. He certainly seemed like that kind of guy. You cursed yourself. You cursed yourself for living inside of your own head, for thinking about Chris, for being a bad date. After all, this was what you wanted, right?

This was you, once again, trying to move on and move forward with your life, leaving the past in the past and all you seemed to get for your trouble was a ‘nearly but not quite’ version of the man you were trying to leave behind. There was nothing wrong with Sam, of course and in any other timeline, where your path never crossed Chris’, you were certain you could have had a fourth date with him, maybe even a fifth, to see where this would lead. But if this whole evening, this whole week, had achieved anything, it had simply reaffirmed what you already knew to be true in your heart, that you’d never really let Chris go and while some men might come close, there was nothing quite like the real thing.

It was too easy to let your mind drift during dinner, the conversation that had initially been scintillating suddenly feeling a little lacklustre through no fault of the man in your company and the bottle of Sangiovese he’d ordered for the table, a wine that Chris would order every single time, had you crawling back into those corners of your mind where you’d stored away every memory of every single date you ever had with Chris Kreider for the second time that night.

The evening ended with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a vague promise to do this again sometime, but instead of the disappointment you’d expected to feel, there was instead a strange and unexpected feeling that was akin to relief. No, clarity.

You weren’t over Chris, that much was clear as day to you now and for better or worse your heart still clung to the man who had both given you so many happy memories, so much joy, and had shattered your world. It was the reason why you’d accepted and reciprocated contact after a decade, why you hadn’t brushed him off, why you’d let him back into your life, even if you had been keeping him at arm’s length for the most part. Your reckless heart still called out to his, even if your cautious head was screaming at you to stay away, to be careful, to protect yourself. You couldn’t help but let him back in, because even if you couldn’t say that you truly forgave him for what he did, you could never say that you ever stopped loving him. Not really.

All you had to do now was to decide just what exactly you were going to do next.

*

The last thing Chris expected on a Tuesday night after a game at home to the Predators was a phone call from you and he found himself hesitating for a number of reasons, not least because of the late hour. This was the first time hearing from you since you’d left him on ‘read’ and if he was being truthful, he still wasn’t over the knock to his pride. But it was late and Chris knew that he would never forgive himself if you were in some sort of trouble and he ignored your call. It was that thought that had him reaching for his phone, a forced calmness in his voice as he answered.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, a slight edge to your voice that Chris couldn’t quite place. “I just… I saw the game and I wanted to check in, make sure you were okay.”

Chris’ face flushed in embarrassment and he was thankful that you couldn’t see him at that moment. The game you referenced was nothing short of a shit show and Chris hadn’t seen much of the ice in the third period, the benching he received completely justified in his own opinion, but still stung nonetheless.

“I’m fine,” Chris lied. “Just have to correct the mistakes, learn from it and move on to the next one.”

It was such a PR friendly response, one he’d throw out during a postgame interview and he was so tired that he hadn’t even tried to mask the overly rehearsed delivery with something a little more sincere. He’d half hoped you wouldn’t notice but, of course, you’d prove him wrong. You always could cut right through all the smoke and the mirrors to get to the very heart. It was one of the things he’d always loved about you.

“I’m not a reporter, Chris,” you gently scolded. “Please don’t treat me like one.”

Chris had to swallow down a scoff at that. You were right, of course, you weren’t a reporter, but Chris also wasn’t sure just what the hell you were anymore. One thing he was certain of though was that he absolutely wasn’t about to take a lecture from you, not when he’d not heard from you for so long. Not with how things were left between you both. But Chris was tired. His body was tired, his mind was tired and his heart was tired. He didn’t have it in him to get into it with you. Not tonight.

“It was just a bad night,” Chris offered lamely. “I’ve gotta be better. No two ways about it.”

“I know you will be,” you replied, a genuine softness in your voice that Chris picked up on immediately. “You’ll make it right.”

Chris sat up at that, unsure if he’d imagined the veiled message behind your words, whether it was merely a trick of the mind or if there truly was so much more that you were saying.

“I hope so,” he managed after a breath or two. “I mean, I’m trying.”

“I know.”

Chris exhaled at that, his free hand coming up to rub his face. He was exhausted and he wasn’t sure he had the energy to play this perceived game of emotional chess with you. He figured he’d cut right to the chase.

“Why are you really calling, Pickle?” he asked, voice rough. “You just… ghosted me.”

“I know,” you replied quietly. “I’m sorry, Chris. I… I don’t know why I did that.”

“I meant it, y’know. I’m happy for you, I’m happy to see you finding happiness and someone who is good to you.” The sniffle on the other end of the line was barely inaudible and had you said something, anything, Chris would have missed it. “Pickle?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out, fighting hard to suppress the waver in your voice and taking a few breaths to compose yourself. “I should let you go to bed. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m alright,” Chris assured, not prepared to let this drop so easily. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing-”

“Please,” he cut you off firmly. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie to me,” he gritted. “Don’t lie to me.”

The silence through the phone was deafening and were it not for your tiny exhale on the other end of the line, Chris would have thought you’d gone completely. He wasn’t about to let this lie. You’d been the one to call him, after all and that meant something. It had to mean something.

“I just,” you started, after what felt like an eternity of silence and choosing your next words carefully. “It just didn’t work out between Sam and I.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

There was another pause.

“I’m sorry,” Chris said quietly after a moment.

“It’s… It’s just the way it goes sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

Chris paused for a few breaths, caught between wanting to push further and not wanting to seem intrusive. It wasn’t really any of his business why it didn’t work out between you and Sam, not really and yet he knew there was more to it. More that you weren’t saying for reasons he wasn’t entirely sure of but felt like he needed to know.

“What happened?” he asked eventually.

“We didn’t work out.”

“So you said,” Chris replied sceptically. “Okay, let me rephrase my question. Why didn’t you work out?”

You cursed him internally, both in knowing that he wasn’t about to let you deflect and because the nature of his question meant that you were really going to have to think about the way you would answer him.

“Because,” you started on the exhale of a breath, unsure even as the word came out of your mouth where you were going to go with this. What could you say? Tell Chris that you weren’t over him? That you called time on things with Sam because he simply wasn’t Chris? Sure, it was the truth, but it wasn’t something you were certain you were ready to share, not least because you knew you weren’t ready for the consequences of that, whatever they happened to be. “Because it just didn’t feel right with him. I don’t know how else to say it other than that.”

Chris knew that he wasn’t going to get anything more out of you and he wasn’t going to rock the boat by pressing the issue further and so, with reluctance, he dropped it.

“Well, if it doesn’t feel right then it doesn’t feel right,” he replied simply. “You can’t force that kind of thing.”

“No,” you agreed. “No, you can’t.”

There was a brief silence that descended between you, filled with all the words neither of you could say and weighted with feelings that you weren’t ready to openly express.

“I am sorry, though,” Chris said finally. “Truly.”

“Yeah,” you replied hoarsely. “Me too.” You hesitated a moment more before wishing Chris goodnight. “You really should get some rest.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he acknowledged, the hint of a smile in his voice. “I’m goin’.”

“Goodnight, Christopher.”

“G’night, Pickle,” he replied softly. “And please don’t be a stranger.”

You smiled at that, for the first time in days.

“I won’t. I promise.”

*

The next few weeks for Chris passed in what could only be described as a complete blur. The schedule somehow seemed more unforgiving than usual and Chris was desperately looking forward to the All Star Break where he could pause and finally catch his breath. He’d made no firm plans which, while not like him, he was content with. He’d toyed with the idea of booking a vacation somewhere warm, where he could bask in the feeling of the sun on his skin and sand between his toes, but the thought of travelling seemed like too much effort, even if St Barts was lovely at that time of the year. Perhaps he’d venture as far as Rowayton and blow the cobwebs away with fresh sea air, or perhaps he would stay in Manhattan and get lost in a good book. The latter sounded mighty tempting, especially as it had been a while since he’d spent a day wandering the city, going from bookstore to bookstore with plenty of coffee stops in between.

There might have been something else keeping him in the city, although Chris would never admit to it. He didn’t want to be that guy, the one waiting on you. He also didn’t want to just let you back in so easily. You’d ghosted him once, you could do it again. But even so, the frequency of texts seemed to increase with each day that passed and soon he found himself calling you on the way back from practice or on drives home from the airport, just as you called him on your commute home or while you were cooking dinner. It was nice, Chris thought. Nice to have you back in his life and nice to have something that could very easily fit the definition of friendship, especially after everything that had happened. Those calls soon became FaceTimes and before long it was a normal occurrence for Chris to catch up with you that way before turning in for the night.

It was the final away trip before the All Star break and he’d found himself in a hotel room in Pittsburgh. It was getting on for 9:30 and while some of the younger guys had taken themselves out into the city for drinks after dinner, Chris had been content to come back to the room, take as hot a bath as he could stand and catch an earlyish night. His book was already on the nightstand and he’d not long changed into a pair of loose cotton pyjama pants. He settled himself on the bed, propped up with every pillow at his disposal, and called you.

*

You groaned as you climbed into bed, your body aching in a way that it hadn’t for a very long time, although you supposed that’s what you got for leaving it so long to go back to the gym. The bath you’d taken had worked wonders for your muscles, that is, until it was time for you to get out and then it was as if your legs had completely forgotten how to do the whole standing thing. You’d made something akin to a nest with your pillows and scatter cushions, with your book and herbal tea sitting on the nightstand ready and waiting for you. Your phone vibrated beside the mug and you couldn’t help the smile on your face at the sight of Chris’ name on the screen, his call unexpected but welcome all the same.

You were still wearing your smile as you answered, Chris’ face soft and sleepy on your screen.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, Pickle,” he said, voice a little tired. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I mean, I think I’ve broken my legs but that’s what I get for going to the gym.”

Chris laughed softly at that, a little smirk on his face as he spoke.

“You think they’re sore now, just you wait ‘til the morning.”

“Ugh, don’t,” you groaned. “The lift is out at work too so I’ve got like two flights of stairs to go up.”

“Yikes.”

“Eh, serves me right. How’re you anyway? How’s Pittsburgh?”

“I’m good,” Chris replied with a gentle smile. “Pittsburgh is cold. The guys went out for a beer after dinner but I came back, got a bath and figured I’d get a chapter in before turnin’ in for the night.”

“You old man,” you teased. “You shoulda got yourself out.”

“Nah,” Chris shook his head. “Just didn’t feel up to it tonight, besides, it means I get to catch up with you.”

You couldn’t help the flush in your cheeks at that and you hoped that Chris couldn’t read the bashful little smile that played on your lips. Your eyes flitted to Chris’ bare chest, somehow only just noticing that he was sans shirt and the heat in face seemed to burn hotter as your thighs pressed together of their own volition

“I wish I could say I had more news for you but I lead a very boring life,” you said, trying to keep your eyes fixed firmly on Chris’ face in the hopes that it would restore some kind of order to your body.

“How’s your mom?”

“She’s good,” you replied, swallowing thickly. “She’s uh taken up knitting so there’s just yarn everywhere.”

“Yeah?” Chris smiled. “She taking any requests? I could use a hat.”

“Not planning on shaving your head again are you?”

“You saw that?” Chris grinned.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Yeah, I did.”

A weighted silence fell between you both, not uncomfortable but tinged with a sadness at the reference to your years apart. You winced internally at it, wishing you could take back your words. Chris spoke first, his voice soft and laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Well, I promise I’ve no plans to shave my head.”

“Good,” you replied, voice almost a whisper. “I mean, you can do what you want. It’s your head.”

Chris laughed then and it seemed to cut through the weird tension that had started to form, causing you to exhale a breath of relief. You smiled back at him.

“I’ll ask mom if she can make you a hat,” you added.

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

“Don’t come crying to me when she knits you some sort of beret.”

“Bold of you to assume that I didn’t want a beret,” he grinned. “I’m a very cultured guy.”

“Eating everything at a world buffet doesn’t make you a cultured guy, Chris,” you teased.

“Uhhhh, yes it does.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the silly little expression on Chris’ face and it was easy to let yourself get lost in how familiar this all felt. You’d always talk like this. Before you lived together you’d talk on the phone for hours in bed, Chris staying on the line with you until you’d fallen asleep because you refused to hang up, insisting that you weren’t tired. You wondered if he’d still stay on the line with you if you asked him to. You wouldn’t, of course, but you’d like to think he would.

“So what are your plans for next week?” you asked. “It’s the break, right? You jetting off somewhere exotic?”

“Nah,” Chris shook his head. “I thought about going away somewhere but I think I’m just gonna chill at home.”

“Sometimes that’s what you need,” you agreed.

“Yeah,” Chris nodded. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good poke around a book store so I think I’ll take myself over to the Upper West Side and see what I can find.”

“That sounds like a really good plan, Chris,” you smiled. “It seems like the season’s been a rough one so far, I think it’ll do you good to recharge at home. Do the things you enjoy, y’know?”

“Would you um…”

Chris paused and you couldn’t help but notice the conflicted expression that had settled on his brow.

“Yeah?”

Chris exhaled.

“Would you like to maybe meet up for coffee sometime next week?”

“In Manhattan?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound too taken aback.

“Or Hartford,” Chris rushed. “I could come to you. I mean, you’ll be working and I’ve got the time to spare so…”

“I could take some time off that I’m owed,” you offered.

“I- really?” Chris replied, a little stunned that you’d not rebuffed him.

“Yeah, then we’re not having to rush for me to get back to work” you nodded. “I mean, it’s been a minute since I’ve driven into New York so god knows how that’ll go.”

“I’ll come to Hartford,” Chris suggested. “It’ll be quieter anyways.”

“You sure? I don’t wanna put you out.”

“You’re not,” he assured. “I’m offering. New York traffic is bad enough, but when you’re not used to it it’s even worse. I’ll come to you, no trouble at all.”

“Okay,” you conceded. “Okay, yeah. That’d be great.”

“I’ll reach out when I’m back in the city and we can sort something out?”

“Yeah that sounds perfect, Chris,” you smiled softly.

There was a pause then, you both somehow managing to hold each other’s gaze through the screen. That warmth that had been in your face earlier had migrated to your chest and you couldn’t help but think how soft he looked propped up in bed. You were glad when Chris spoke again, his words stopping your thoughts from pushing the boundaries of appropriateness and straying into a territory you were trying your best to stay away from.

“I’ll let you get some rest. You look exhausted.”

“Gee, thanks,” you chuckled.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” you smiled softly. “You get some rest too.”

Chris wished you goodnight and ended the call, leaving you laid in bed with your heart racing as your mind wandered to all the coffee dates with Chris that had come before and you began to wonder just what this all was and how it would feel to see him again.

#my writing #it's all coming back to me fic #chris kreider fic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction

[from-a-reckless-writer]

Can you do a little supercorp one-shot based on the song Classy Girl from The Lumineers please?

“Don’t even think about it,” Winn mutters to Kara before taking a swig of his beer. They were leaning against the bar counter. It was a crowded night, Kara had never been at this side of the city before,  the air thick with that usual smell of sweat and cigar smoke. 

“W-what? I wasn’t even doing anything, what are you talking about?” Kara protests although her face screams guilty, as if she and Winn had had this conversation a million times before and she had been caught a million times before. 

“You’ve been staring at her like you wanna devour her. Trust me she’s not the girl you want on your list of conquests.”

“Lists of conquest?! Wha-?! I. Do. Not. Have. A list of conquests, Winslow,” Kara scoffs out, irritated that, yes,  they are indeed having this conversation again. 

“Lucy, Siobhan, Imr-” 

“Shut up, Winn.”

“Thought so,” Winn retorts, but Kara is still pointedly staring not even trying at subtlety, 

“But I’m serious, Kara. Not her.”

“Why not? Who is she, anyway?”

“Lena.”

“Mm. Pretty name for a pretty face, who is she, Winn?” 

“She’s a Luthor, Kara.” 

At that, Kara’s eyes snap back at her and Winn feels a bit of relief at the slightest sign of interest in his warning. 

“She’s Lex’s precious sister, if Lex doesn’t skin you alive himself, Lois probably will.”

“Lois? As in Lois Lane? As in Kal’s Lois Lois? What’s she got to do with it?”

“What do you mean what’s she got to do with it? Kara, Lex almost got Clark killed. You do know that, right?” Winn says in disbelief at Kara’s obliviousness. 

All of a sudden flashes of frantic phone calls from Lois and Martha appear in her mind, Kal bruised and battered, the Danvers immediately taking her away, Eliza mumbling about El’s and Lu-

Luthor. 

Oh. Luthors. Lex, Lena. They’re The Luthors. 

“Oh,” Kara says dumbly. 

“Yes, ‘oh’, now you know. So, don’t even think about it Kara.”

Winn turns around to face the bartender, signaling for another pint while continuing to talk Kara out of a potential disaster.

“How about that waitress earlier? The one who called you hand-”

When he turns around his friend is nowhere to be found and his eyes search the bar in alarm. 

And there, in the far side of the bar—the one spot Kara has been eyeing all night—is his friend slowly sauntering her way through. Headed for one Lena Luthor no doubt. Winn fights the urge to clap a hand to his forehead in frustration. 

***

“Finally found the courage to talk to me?” 

Are the first words tossed at Kara as she comes face to face with Lena Luthor. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kara says, a charming smile in place. 

“If you don’t pretend as if you haven't been eyeing me all night, I won’t pretend as if I didn’t enjoy having your eyes on me all night.” 

Lena raises a perfect brow at Kara and it’s a miracle that her knees haven’t given out. 

She parts her lips to respond but no words come out and her mind blanks. No lady has ever rendered her speechless before, it was always the other way around. 

“Cat got your tongue, Miss?” Lena purrs, smug smirk growing

“Danvers. Kara Danvers.”

Kara manages to choke out, Lena makes a face at the name as if in recognition. 

“Any relation to Alexandra Danvers?”

Kara tries to hide her shock and fails spectacularly so, of course Lena would know about the Danvers. 

“Sister,” She answers to which Lena says, “I didn’t know Alex has a sister.”

Kara loosens up at that, if Lena knew her as Danvers that means she has no idea she’s Kal’s cousin, no idea Lena’s brother almost killed the only biological family she has left. She doesn’t want the burden of that hanging over them at their first meeting. 

“Adopted,” She clarifies and for a moment she wonders if she should be concerned that all her brain is capable of at the moment are one word answers. 

“Hmm. Well, tell your sister to be more discreet about her,” Lena pauses as if searching for the right word as Kara waits in confusion. 

“-late night activities, especially if she’s going to involve Samantha Arias.”

Kara feels panic when Lena’s words finally click into place, Alex hasn’t even told Eliza about that, she certainly hasn't told Kara. Kara only knew because she made the mistake of passing Alex’s room in the middle of the night, back in Midvale and moans reached her ears, too breathy and too feminine to be a boyfriend. 

“How did you know about that?” Kara asks a bit hostile, when it comes to Alex and she’d do anything even if it means not getting the girl for once, if it meant keeping Alex’s sexuality quiet till she’s ready to tell. 

“No need to be so feisty, darling, Sam is my best friend. And let’s just say Luthors don’t like it when the people they care about are put in complicated situations,” Lena explains and she doesn’t miss the implications of the name ‘Luthor’ next to the phrase, ‘don’t like’.

Kara feels like she should be more concerned about Lena knowing these things especially if they just met, especially with the history between Lex and Clark but she called her ‘darling’ and Kara couldn’t care less about any of that.

“Now, that we got that over with, would you care for a dance?” 

She extends a hand out as her confidence surges again, only for Lena to stare at it, promptly ignore it and throw Kara off her game all over again. 

“Start small, Kara. How about a drink?” she smoothly evades as she hands Kara a bottle of beer, a Kangaroo on the label. 

Kara’s hand wraps around the neck of the bottle firmly, to fight off the longing of Lena’s hands in hers. 

And so, Kara takes her advice and she starts small. Asking Lena all the right questions and successfully avoiding any talk related to their familial background and Lena had never been more grateful. She learns that Lena doesn’t have a favorite constellation, how she writes her name on the first page of all of her books, how she doesn’t do breakfast and Kara realizes she never wants to know a person more than she does with Lena. Maybe, Winn was right. Maybe she really doesn’t want Lena to be just another name in her list of conquests. 

***

Either Kara had never heard of the Luthors before or she simply did not care, Lena did not know what to make of that,  but what matters is that she has never felt this open with another human being before. 

There was a pull when it came to Kara. She felt it the first moment her eyes landed on the blonde only to find her staring back at her. She watched her all night talk to a man, half-afraid that they were something more. But when she caught Kara staring again for the nth time that night—clear intent behind her eyes—Lena’s doubts fell away. 

“Enough about me, how about you? How come this is the first time I’m hearing of another Danvers in town?”

Kara knew they would eventually reach that. When she was thirteen she was whisked off to the Danvers, her family was gone, pain was all she knew, Clark was too caught up in his life and Metropolis was the least safest place to be for Kara. But when things finally quieted down and the Danvers decided to move back to Metropolis, she didn’t come. Deciding to stay in Midvale for college instead. And then finally moving to National City to pursue Journalism. She spent almost 5 years in the glory of being CatCo’s top reporter, only to be called back to Metropolis because of Jeremiah’s frail health. 

“A journalist. I should be wary of you, you know,” Lena whispers their lips a breadth apart, her hands scratching the blonde baby hairs at Kara’s nape, Kara’s hands finding their place on Lena’s hips. Kara finally got her dance and she knows if she leaned in she’d taste the beer on Lena’s lips. 

“There’s nothing to be wary about. I’d never hurt you, Lena.” 

It was such a heavy statement to say considering they’ve only known each other for 4 hours. But there was something inside Kara that says this was right. 

Whatever is happening or is going to happen between them, it’s right. 

That instinct had never failed her as a reporter before, even got her a Pulitzer so, why should she stop listening to it now?

She stares into Lena’s emerald eyes and slowly closes the gap…

Only for her lips to land on Lena’s cheek. 

She turned her face in the last minute! Kara feels the vibrations of laughter roll off Lena. 

Lena slowly tilts her head towards Kara again and Kara doesn’t bother hiding the confusion on her face. 

“What? I’m sorry did I read things wrong? I totally should’ve asked for con-”

Lena removes one hand from the back of her head to press a finger to Kara’s lips. 

“Classy girls don’t kiss in bars, you fool.”

***

“Do you remember the night we met?”

“Mm. Yes, you abandoned Winn for me, he’s still holding a grudge against you for that, did you know? He told me himself.”

Kara laughs and Lena feels more than hears as she presses herself closer to Kara; naked skin to naked skin, sheets sliding and hair messy. 

“Remember what you did that night?”

“No, what?”

“You denied me a kiss because according to you, ‘Classy girls don’t kiss in bars, you fool’.” 

It was Lena’s turn to laugh this time.

“Did I really say that? God, what a pretentious line, I should’ve let you kiss me instead.”

“You know what was running through my head even though you did that?”

“Mmno, what?”

“I thought, the hardest part is over. Like even if I don’t get a kiss tonight, it would be fine. Because I had already met you, I’ve found you and the hardest part is over.”

“That was as pretentious as my line, darling.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

“Kiss me, Kara.”

#just so you know anon this is the first time ive listened to that song and i wanted to write a mafia-esque kinda thing #like the flash and supergirl crossover but my writing prowess isn't that marvelous so have this instead #supecorp fic #the reckless writer writes #asks #rcklss writes

[13uswntimagines]

I Should Sleep With You More Often (Sam x Reader)

Sequel to Works Like a Charm  where Sam and Reader finally get together. It’s a very fluffy piece, with a little bit of late night breakfast making and a surprise kiss. 

special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause this wouldn’t have happened without her. 

Hello?”

“Hey, I can’t sleep.” Sam’s voice comes over the phone, getting straight to the point with frustration.

“And you’re calling me about it? At 3 am. I could have been asleep you know.” You huff into the phone, pinning it between your chin and your shoulder. 

“Were you?” She asks, and you can almost see her eyebrow quirking up. 

You look down at the frying pan where you were about to pour your egg-cheese scramble. “No. But still.”

“Don’t worry, I appreciate the irony of the situation,” she says, with an attempt at humor. “can I come over?”

“Sure. You can split my omelet.” You hum, your tongue poking out as you make sure the entire omelet landed on the plate instead of the floor. 

“Omelette?” Sam asked, sounding amused. “I thought you weren’t supposed to --” 

“Eat anything after 9 pm I know, I know. But I woke up and was hungry, and couldn’t just ignore it to fall back asleep for two hours. I had to eat something or I was going to get nauseous.” You interrupted her, waving your hand dismissively. 

“What?” Sam asked entirely confused. 

“You know that feeling, where you’re like, so hungry that you get kind of nauseous?” You tried to explain again. 

“No…” She trailed off. 

“Oh, well it’s the worst. I like to try to eat something before it gets too bad because otherwise, the food won’t do anything. Anyway, I made enough you can have half of it, just let me know when you get here so I can send down the elevator for you.” You said, whipping your hands off and walking towards the door. 

“I’m actually just parking,” Sam’s voice came sheepishly over the phone. In the background, you heard the unmistakable sound of her car being locked. She always insisted on clicking the lock button twice so it would beep, like she didn’t trust it to lock the first time. 

You shook your head and left your apartment to buzz her into the building. “You’re telling me that at 3 am, before even checking to see if I was awake, you just decided to come to my apartment because you couldn’t sleep?”

“Yes?” 

“You’re insane,” you said, hanging up the phone as the elevator door opened to reveal her tall frame. 

She ruffled the hair at the back of her neck, grinning. “I knew you would be awake?”

“Bullshit.” You led the way back to your apartment and grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “You want soy milk?”

“What?” 

“Soy milk. I’ve got vanilla or dark chocolate.” For some reason, soy milk helped reduce the insomnia nausea more than anything else most days. Still, the omelet smelled amazing. 

“Um sure, vanilla please.” She shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. Vanilla was for the weak. 

You pulled out both cartons and two glasses, before cutting the omelet in half and handing her a fork. 

“Don’t I get my own plate?” Sam whined, cutting off a piece of the Omelet and popping it into her mouth. 

“People who come barging into my apartment at 3 AM have to share with the host. Unless you wanna do dishes?” You raised your eyebrow at her, pointing your fork in her direction, smirking when she emphatically shook her head no. 

She quickly changed the subject, avoiding your eyes as she ate. “So how are you liking your apartment, it’s new right?”

“Yeah, I moved in four months ago, you know when I suddenly got traded to North Carolina,” you said, a very bitter edge in your voice. How Mark could let you leave the thorns you would never know, but at least Hinkle was retiring. 

You took another bite “So why couldn’t you sleep? At camp, you’re usually snoring like a freight train by now.” 

Sam paused mid-bite, fork in the air. She looked like she was debating how to answer then, stuffed her last piece of omelet in her mouth. “I donb snowe.”

“You totally do. Rose even sent me the video evidence if you wanna see it,” you smirked, standing to go get your phone. 

“No!” Sam jumped up and you sprinted across the kitchen to get out of her reach, grinning. “You really don’t have to do that, it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, but I really don’t mind,” you taunted, starting for your phone before Sam tackled you. Well, it wasn’t a tackle so much as a grab, but she had a good foot and a half on you, so same difference really. 

“Put me down. This is highly unnecessary,” you sputtered, laughing from Sam’s shoulder. “I’m not supposed to exercise within an hour of bed. My therapist would be unhappy with so much activity.”

“Yeah cause eating an Omelette at 3 am is totally something she would approve,” Sam rolled her eyes, as she tossed you onto your couch.

“Lies and slander. I won’t get the alleged snoring video, but seriously. Why are you here?”

Sam sighs, and slouches onto the couch next to you, dropping her head into your lap. You smile down at her, liking this new angle. While you certainly didn’t mind being the baby of the team, it was kind of nice to do the petting for once.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, furrowing her eyebrows.

“You were never a good liar. It’s why everyone catches you when you try to pull pranks. I hear it helps if you talk about it,” You murmured, using your thumb to smooth out the crease that formed between her eyes. 

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because I kept having nightmares. It felt like, I was tossing and turning for hours, and then every time I dozed off, my brain came up with these fucked up images. Like, silence of the lambs shit. I could sell some horror film director the plotlines and make bank, I’m telling you. And since Rose and Wilma moved out, my place has felt so empty. It felt like, the panic attacks I used to have before games. When I had to always bring a bag with me to hyperventilate into before I could get my mind on the game.”

You frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

“Once you became my bus buddy I didn’t have that problem. You got me out of my own head with fun word games and stupid jokes. Remember that time you gave me the sentence ‘The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog?’ You kept grinning telling me to stop stressing out, it would be alright, to just guess a letter.” 

“Because whatever you guessed would be right.” You hum smiling down at her. 

 “You couldn’t take that shit-eating grin off your face, you jerk, but like, it helped me stop second-guessing myself. Sitting on the bus with you, I’ve never felt more calm going into a season. And so I just thought. It’s dumb but I hoped coming here would help.” She shrugged. 

“It’s not dumb Sammy. You help me sleep too. Why do you think all the vets insist I sit with you?” You said softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

“Because you used to fall asleep literally everywhere and they hoped I could get across the aisle and catch you before you hit your head?” She giggled and you snapped her shoulder lightly. 

“Wow. Thanks.” You said in a monotone, “Or maybe it’s ‘cause you’re my favorite teddy bear.”

“If anyone is the teddy it’s you. You’re like half my size,” She giggled. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you muttered, playfully pushing her head off your lap. “Come on you giant.”

“Where are you going?” She asked, allowing you to pull her to her feet. 

“To go grab you a toothbrush and a fresh pillowcase for the bed.” You said, your tugging getting a little more insistent. You really wanted to get to sleep tonight. You had been so good lately (ignoring the random omelet you cooked tonight).

“Oh, um. I was hoping we could just watch television on your couch and I would fall asleep,” Sam rambled, eyes wide. “I mean, not that I mind, but I didn’t want to like, invade on your--”

“Just come up to my room. It’s no big deal, it’s large enough for both of us, and I honestly don’t think that couch is even big enough to fit you. Besides, maybe it will help you sleep to be on a mattress actually purchased in this century.”

“Hey, I like my mattress!” She grumbled indignantly, crossing her arms. 

“You flip it twice a month because it keeps forming an indention where you’ve slept!” You said exasperated. That sleepover had been a terrible idea and you stood by that. At least your bed didn’t spit out feathers when you turned over too fast. 

“Well, I. um. No comment.” you hear her say as you go to take your turn in the bathroom. 

When Sam gets back from brushing her teeth you’ve done everything except turn out the lights. You look up from your side of the bed as she pauses in the doorway. 

“Is this… Welcome to Night Vale?”

“It helps me ignore my thoughts. Can you get the lights please?” 

You had to replay the podcast the next day after Sam left. You couldn’t remember anything after “Wednesday has been canceled due to a scheduling error” because within moments you were asleep.

*****

You thought that sleeping with Sam was only supposed to be a one-night thing, but it wasn’t. One night turned into two, which turned into the two of you usually crashing at each other's places. 

If you were being honest, it was the best sleep you had ever gotten. It was nice to have someone there to hold onto, to protect you from the bad dreams. The problem was that your feelings were edging past the line of friendship, and you had no idea what to do about it. 

It started with a team party you both went to, where Sam offered to be the designated driver. After she dropped everyone else off, you told her she might as well stay the night at your place since it was already so late and she did. And you both slept great. And then you had your usual Saturday spa night the next night, and you were several shots in and it wouldn’t have been responsible to drive home. And you both slept a solid seven hours. 

Not that Sam was a magical cure to your insomnia. You still had nights where your brain was like a train running off the rails, unstoppable no matter how hard you tried. Yet, having her there helped. She made sure blue lights went off when they were supposed to, and your late-night breakfast-making was kept to a minimum. AND after the first few nights, you realized that she was amusingly clingy in her sleep. Which meant that occasionally if you woke up and tried to get out of bed, she would sleepily grab you and hold you in place murmuring about whatever was happening in her dream. Since you couldn’t get up you had to just lay there, which normally might have been boring, but with her was amusing as you listened to her rambling state of consciousness. 

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. You really needed to get your shit together and just ask her out. But what if she said no, and you lost your cuddle buddy? That would suck royally, and if you lost your bus seat it might completely curse the USWNT. 

“Alright, I can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears, spill,” Sam groaned, rolling over and throwing an arm around your waist. 

“Isn’t it weird?”

“What?”

“Time. Like someone decided that seconds were a thing and a certain number of seconds equaled a minute and there were a certain number of minutes in a day. Like someone just decided it was a thing, and everyone went along with it and now we all have to plan our lives around this arbitrary system. I wonder if that asshole realized that people would use it to put kids in detention and force them to cram so they could regurgitate facts in a specified amount of his made-up system. And like the Romans made a Calendar and the Mayans did one too…” Your rambling was cut off by Sams’s soft lips touching your own in a quick peck before she collapsed back into the pillow. “Just blame capitalism babe.”

You stared at her for a minute, shocked, before she bolted upright. “SHIT. Sorry, I just. I forgot to ask for consent. I just forgot--”

“I consent, yes, more of this please,” you said, leaning over to kiss her again. Your hands cupped her cheeks and her fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the back of your neck. 

After a few minutes, Sam broke off the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. “Um, wow. You know, I’m not sure this is helping you get to sleep, love.”

You smirk, biting your lip and straddling her hips before you lean in to kiss her again, slowly. “You’re the one who said you needed to sleep with me more often.”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #sam mewis imagine #sam mewis x reader #literalhedgehog

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 11

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 11

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2616

Summary: Another dream makes things more clear for the reader and less clear for Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w  b u r n

           The booths are those plastic-coated pressboard swoops that are so easy to clean, one row down either side of the long room once you walk past the counter to order. Like other pizza places, there are red pepper flakes and grated parmesan on the table, but they also keep ranch dressing in a minifridge behind the counter as a concession to Midwestern sensibilities. You know you’re just outside Dayton just like you know the pizza shop is run by a family, father and two older teenage daughters deftly throwing dough and scattering cheese evenly over it in a way that shows their years of practice. Dean sits across the table with his elbows on it, one forefinger and thumb picking through a plate of nachos between you. His black t-shirt, amulet, and lack of flannel make you notice the hum of the air conditioner in the background, straining over the 90’s alternative radio and reminding you that you’d been here in a heat stroke the summer after you and Dean had gotten together, his golden freckles and lightened tips of his slightly messy hair underlining the memory.

           “They don’t serve nachos here.” It’s half statement and half question.

           “Babe, it’s your dream. They’ll serve whatever you want. Does the pizza suck in Wisconsin or something?”

           The two sisters are whispering to each other as they look over at your table, an almost-argument that ends with who you suspect is the older sister poofing a pinch of flour into the other’s face. They’re both cute girls but she’s adorable, soft cherubic cheeks and messy bun piling impossibly glossy hair on her head as she walks over to the table with a gigantic pizza. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a perfect welcoming cheerleader pitch.

           “I think we’re good for now, sweetheart,” Dean purrs with a wink. That you remember; you’d playfully chastised Dean for dazzling the teens, laughing in his face when he’d said it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t help it if chicks dug him. The wink had proved your point then and now it makes the girl’s cheeks flush red.

           She catches herself remarkably well, the stammer almost slipping under the radar as she assures you that you can “holler if you need anything!”

           Dean brushes his fingers free of nacho debris and loosens a piece of pizza from the melting cheese of the ones next to it. “Last time you had all kinds of sweet nothings and questions for me and now you’re Silent Cal?”

           “I don’t think this is real, but I’m pretty sure if I push it you’ll either die in this dream or I’ll wake up, so my plan is to stay here as long as we can.”

           He drops the pizza back into the box and wipes off his fingers on a napkin before slouching into the booth, arm stretched across its length. “So test me then. Gimme a question only I would know or something.”

           “Well if I ask you something that I know the answer to, my brain will just project you knowing it. See the problem?”

           Dean squints and pouts in consideration, touch of a smile dancing across his face and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen may you be struck dead right now. “Then ask me something you don’t know the answer to.”

           You think about explaining how that too could just be some part of your subconscious recreation of Dean but you don’t want to keep pulling at loose strings in the event that it wakes you up. It’s too hard to keep from smiling, seeing Dean charming and relaxed like this, and when you grin it makes Dean bite his lip. “What’s something I don’t know the answer to?”

           “Ah, ah—I thought I’m just a hologram, how would I know?”

           “Projection, but okay,” you stall. “Wait, here’s one. Sam said when I first started going on jobs with you guys that you had to have a conversation about staying focused. What was that all about?”

           He runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Man, why would he tell you that?” he says under his breath, smirking mostly to himself before leaning forward to meet your eyes. “Fine. I’m not even sure that you’re going to remember this. There was a vengeful spirit in Indiana, some like homesteader guy, ring a bell?”

           You have only the vaguest sense of recollection and sort of waggle your head to show it.

           “It was way at the beginning of when you started coming on jobs with us. You and Bobby got into it because he wanted you to bring your own car so you could ditch us if we were ‘acting like cretins’ or some shit like that?”

           That fits the last puzzle piece in for you and makes you chuckle. “He ended up giving me like $250 of mad money in case I needed a new room or a bus ticket, yeah. I remember.”

           “I didn’t know that part but that’s gotta be the same trip. The whole thing was really stupid. Basically we were supposed to have your six but both me and Sammy wanted to carry a shotgun instead of doing that protection spell because it looked cooler. We were arguing about it when the spirit whipped a chunk of the barn’s scaffolding at you and we didn’t catch it in time. You heard it coming and ducked so nothing ended up happening, but it fucking demolished the wall behind you. It was a huge fuckup—thing could’ve taken your head clean off, you know? Sam was so broken up about it he was wasted for like a week solid after we dropped you back off at Bobby’s.”

           “Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

           “I know, usually he does some kind of pouty baby bullshit. But I mean both of us felt really guilty that bitching at each other could’ve taken you out.”

           Dean’s eyes rake over your face, seeming to linger over every inch like he’s going to draw a topographical map of it later by memory. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something but you can’t think of anything other than tracing each of his freckles where they dust across his nose.

           A hand reaches over the table to run his fingertips along the back of yours, and that certainly feels real enough to send an ache into your gut. “What if you ask Sam? If he says that’s not what happened then you can keep saying I’m not real and you don’t have to listen to me.”

           “But he already basically told me that. The only thing I probably wouldn’t have guessed about that is Sam getting drunk about it—these could’ve been just well-informed guesses about when it probably was or the kinds of things it seemed like he was implying.”

           His lips press into a firm line and the barest touch of pink rises in his cheeks. “We, um, we pinky swore on it.”

           The adorableness of his embarrassment makes you grin teasingly as much as the divulgence does. “A pinky promise? You guys must’ve been pretty serious to take such a sacred oath.”

           He rolls his eyes at your ribbing and throws his hands back in his lap with a defeated smirk. “Laugh it up. Would that be good enough proof for you?”

           It seems like Dean has figured out a loophole in the system, but you’re sure the light of day and Sam’s scrutiny will figure out why it isn’t actual evidence of communication with Dean beyond death, and you tell him that.

           A curtain of suspicious confusion falls over Dean’s face. “Sam being weird about it is what’s keeping you from trusting this? Kid, I’ve been talking to Sa—”

           And you woke up.

           The bed was empty next to you but you could smell something sweet in the air and hear the light clinking of pots or pans Sam was trying his best to keep quiet. You blinked back a few tears of frustration—who even cared if it was real or not? Reliving a great memory with Dean was more than enough and instead of enjoying it you’d wasted a chance at some small respite from your constant ache of grief. And even then, you hadn’t used any of your time to figure out how the whole thing worked, how you could see him again.

           But the most pressing issue was what you thought Dean had been trying to say before disappearing; that he had gotten through to Sam. Sam, of course, deserved to have secrets, but if he had been sitting on the resolution to all the angst you’d been struggling through in the last weeks (months?), you couldn’t imagine a reason why that wouldn’t hurt. Nothing would be solved by laying in your bed to sulk about it, though, so you threw on some clothes and went to brush your teeth.

           When you came out, Sam was hunched slightly, the standard stove highlighting his decidedly non-standard height as he shuffled a pan’s handle. He had a dishtowel over his t-shirt clad shoulder, a habit from the bar that sometimes held over when he was in the kitchen at home, and bare feet under old jeans. They were wearing through at the knees, and you knew they were absolutely pajama-soft from having periodically thrown them in with your own laundry. Through the kitchen window, enough snow-brightened sunlight came into the room to cast him in a halo glow that gleamed off of his hair. As long as it had gotten, chunks still swept into his face as he looked down at the stove, and he tucked one behind his ear as he looked up, half-singing a Buddy Guy song that was playing softly. It was stunning—he was stunning, statuesque and strong and right there in front of you. Cooking you breakfast while you slept in, of all things, chocolate chip pancakes he had to have remembered were your favorite from ages ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had them and right now, nothing in the world sounded better. He beamed and tilted the pan toward you. “Morning! I made pancakes, you want some?”

           And you should’ve just let the moment rest, sat in the rare bright winter morning and eaten chocolate chip pancakes and relished how well the boiler was working, maybe later in the day read a predictable murder mystery or taped off the living room to be painted and listened to REM until your shoulders were sore from running rollers up the walls all afternoon. Instead, about as stupid and weird a flop as if a toad had come out of your mouth, you said, “Have you been talking to Dean too?”

           Sam’s face fell but not in the right way. There was too much angle in his brow and that confirmed it. “What?” he asked, but it didn’t land.

           “How long have you been talking to Dean?”

           He kept that curious smile for a second, like maybe he could push through by playing dumb and you would forget, but finally his lips flattened and his jaw clenched as he stacked a finished pancake on top of its predecessors. “Just because I’m having dreams about him doesn’t mean it’s really him,” he finally answered, softly and as though he was telling the bubbling pancake batter in front of him, unable to meet your eyes.

           You felt the lump forming in your throat and tried to get the words out ahead of its solidifying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

           “For what?” He let go of the pan and turned toward you, supporting his weight on the countertop. “So we can both—”

           “Both what? Be delusional? Is that what you were going to say?”

           Sam didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was firm and he kept his eyes locked on yours.

           “He told me you were drunk for a week after the hunt you were talking about.” You watched as Sam’s pupils widened a touch. “And that you didn’t just promise each other to buckle down, you pinky swore.” Sam’s Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see in your face that it is. Did you already know it’s really him?”

           He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw. “I was pretty sure. Or at least I really hoped I was pretty sure.”

           You felt more than consciously allowed your mouth’s falling open. “How? How long?”

           “It just—I don’t know, it just felt different. I—uh, the first time was after we made those cupcakes; he asked about the cupcakes.”

           You slumped against the countertop opposite him, speechless. He shoved the pan off the hot burner a little too hard, put a palm on either side of the stove to brace himself. The two of you stood like that for a long minute, the smell of chocolate not matching the stiff heaviness in the air at all.

           “I don’t—what if it’s not real?” His throat sounded bound even though you couldn’t see his face, hulking mass of him spread across the tiny kitchen.

           He seemed so defeated, so young, and then you couldn’t believe how selfish you’d been, not putting two and two together that something challenging Sam’s grip on or understanding of reality must shove him back to the brain melting torture he’d endured in the cage and the months—years, maybe, he was always so tight-lipped about it—afterward. What the fuck were you thinking, not seeing it before, how this could seem like a perfectly laid trap for Sam, the most poetic way to whip his mind into stiff peaks of meringue. It made so much sense why he would need time to really suss it out, see the situation from all angles and investigate, check and re-check. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away. This was not about you or your complicated need for him, it was about Sam, what he’d been through, what he was likely putting himself through even now.

           “The, um, the pancakes smell really good.”

           “Yeah?” There was half a laugh behind his words, humorless as it was. “I hope they’re okay, I know they’re your, uh, your favorite.”

           “I’m surprised you remembered.”

           Sam leaned on one arm to rub his face with his other hand. “Yeah, well.”

           “Can I help?”

           After a beat, he stood up and offered some space next to him on the stove. You worked hip to hip, sprinkling the chocolate chips while Sam flipped. He was scraping the last of the batter into a last little runt pancake with a spatula when you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, if sad, before setting down the bowl and covering as much of you as he could, folding over you like a protective shell. It reminded you of that dirty motel room, months and months ago, when Sam held you together as you cracked in his arms. All he could do then was be steadfast in reminding you he was still there, if nothing else was, and you hoped you were able to give him the same now.

           You silently laid two place settings on the kitchen counter while Sam set the food out. He sat next to you and had picked up his fork when you touched his wrist to still him. “If it’s not real for you then I’m losing it too.”

           Sam thought for a second, then raised his forearm and kissed the back of your hand where you held onto him before cutting into his pancakes.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 12

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #sam x reader #sam x you #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spn fluff #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic #sam winchester fluff #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester angst #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #spn angst #sam winchester series #dean winchester series #dean x sam x reader #dean x sam x you

[ejzah]

A/N: The return of Charlie, Jake, and Omar. This might be based on a request from long ago, but I don’t know for sure.

***

Tall Tales

“So, I bet you have some pretty crazy stories from working with NCIS,” Charlie Teale prompted as he poured some ketchup on his tray and automatically handed the bottle to Jake.

Since finding out his background, Charlie, Jake, and Omar took every opportunity to drill him for information. It was always in a friendly way, with none of the malice that Alan had shown, but it still felt a little surreal.

He was used to no one knowing NCIS existed, so the idea that there was a group of people who practically idolized the team, was certainly strange.

“Yeah, they’re been some interesting cases, but a lot of our cases involve casing houses and calling lists of numbers,” Deeks replied.

“Oh come on,” Jake scoffed. “You’re team has a reputation for doing what no one else will. You gotta tell us.”

“It’s only fair,” Charlie chimed in.

“Guys, let the man eat his lunch in peace,” Omar said. “He didn’t come here to entertain us.”

“It’s his duty as our elder.”

“Hey,” Deeks protested, giving Jake a side eye. “I’m the only one who gets to joke about my age. And my wife.”

“Fine, no more age jokes,” Charlie agreed readily. “But just tell us one little story. I’m begging you.”

“You guys probably remember more than me, but alright.” Deeks leaned his head back, trying to think of a a case that would be suitably entertaining without revealing more traumatizing, or classified, aspects. “Ok, this one happened a couple years ago,” he began, lowering his voice and for affect. “There was this bomb inside a trailer.”

“Oh.” Jake sounded mildly disappointed. “Just a bomb?” Deeks raised a finger.

“Did I mention that the trailer was on the road, the bomb was set to go off in about two minutes, and Agents Blye and Hanna were inside the trailer?”

“Damn,” Omar whispered. “Where were you?”

“Oh, I was driving behind the trailer,” Deeks said casually. “While Agent Callen was on the hood. You know, cause he was trying to jump onto the roof of the moving trailer.”

“You’re joking,” Charlie said, looking absolutely delighted.

“Yeah, not even a little bit. Anyway, Callen manages to get on top and gets waylaid by one of the bombers. The whole time, Sam is inside trying to disarm the bomb-it’s like his favorite thing-while Kensi fights off the bomber inside the trailer.”

Charlie, Jake, and Omar didn’t say a word, totally engrossed in what he was saying. Deeks realized they were hanging onto everything he said, lol usual.

“So, Callen takes out both of the drivers and gains control of the trailer. Just in time for Sam to tell us there’s about 15 seconds left on the timer,” Deeks explained, pausing again.

“Holy crap. What happened?” Charlie asked quietly.

“Obviously Agent Hanna disarmed the bomb,” Omar answered, gesturing to across the table. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be talking to Deeks right now.”

“That’s dark.”

Jake cleared his throat pointedly.

“You were saying Deeks?”

“So, by the time I get to the trailer, and I’m freaking out at this point, and open the door, Sam has the bomb diffused. With like a second to spare.”

“Man, that is insane,” Jake commented, shaking his head. “How the hell do you guys do that every day?”

“Actually, that’s a fairly average day for us,” Deeks told them with a shrug. “Maybe minus the trailer, but I’d say Sam disarms at least a bomb a week.”

“That’s the reason you guys are legendary,” Charlie decided. They were quiet for a few minutes while they rushed to finish lunch and then he leaned across the table again. “So, how exactly did you and Agent Blye end up together?”

Shaking his head, Deeks chuckled softly. One thing was for sure, his new friends were going to make sure his time at FLETC was anything but boring.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #Deeks at FLETC #Deeks makes friends #ejzah fanfiction

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 8)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4650 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 7 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Walking out through the automatic doors of Metro-General you were hit with a gust of wind so strong you had to adjust the scarf you had wrapped around your neck to make the fabric feel cozier. In your pocket you feel your phone having a near seizure as it vibrates, alerting you of all the messages you received during the day coming in all at once thanks to the lack of service on the eighth floor.

That’s where you spend most of your time, in the social work department sitting in a small cubicle with yellow fluorescent lighting hanging above and a drafty window that whistles as the wind blows. So far most of your work has been shadowing Elena as she is called down for consultations. When asked, you’ve given appropriate suggestions on what services would best suit the patients but you aren’t yet familiar with enough of them.

It was slow today, which was surprising for a Saturday she mentioned, so most of your time was spent researching the organizations within your reach and learning about the different services they provide. Staring at a screen all day made your eyes nearly close a few times but you survived. On your way home you read through all the messages received. 

Ever since your celebratory get together everyone became friendlier with each other and started a group chat, declaring that on weekends you should all meet up and go to different bars.

Not everyone could always make it. Sam was usually working much to Wanda’s dismay, and another time Natasha was preparing for a large trial and needed every minute to work on her case. Bucky would show up about half the time, and you never asked why he couldn’t make it, assuming he had plans to hook up with someone whenever he wasn’t with you guys.

He still had women over on most nights. They weren’t as loud as before but you could hear them, panting his name like a sensual prayer as you scurried across your apartment to the bathroom. If he wasn’t finished by the time you were back in bed you put on your trusty headphones and hoped to fall back asleep.

When you finally exited the subway you replied back to the texts declining tonight’s invitation. You were honestly ready for a nap and even if you took one you doubt it would give you enough energy to stay up later.

A slew of sad faces sent by Steve made you feel a little guilty. He really wanted you to come out with him, especially since he started socializing again but you really needed this night off.

You: I promise I will do my absolute best to come out next weekend

Wanda: You better! Oh and we still have to talk costumes!

Halloween weekend was soon approaching and you knew you couldn’t miss that no matter how tired you were but tonight you were ready to crash.

Your heels were kicked off immediately, makeup barely wiped away as you changed into pumpkin pajama bottoms. Unhooking your bra felt heavenly and you tossed it aside, having it land somewhere in the vicinity of your living room. You slipped on a tank top and threw a comfy sweatshirt over that before plopping onto your bed and under the covers.

With your head on the pillow you stared at the phone cradled in your hand, holding it on the adjacent pillow. You weren’t actually trying to pay attention to the show you put on, just wanting something to fill the void of silence and within a few minutes you were asleep.

It was pitch black when your eyes opened. You searched for your phone on your bed, hands skimming across the mattress but you couldn’t find it. The smarter thing to do would be to turn on the lamp on your nightstand which you finally did. Your phone had fallen to the floor and upon picking it up you saw the time. It wasn’t that late, only nine-something. You could still go out and meet up with everyone but you chose not to. You were still kind of tired and now very hungry. Too lazy to make something you ordered pizza.

Hocus Pocus played in the background as you waited for your food; and finally looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror you fixed your half-assed attempt at makeup removal from before. Feeling more energized you straightened up your tossed clothes while absentmindedly singing along.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re gone, gone, gone so long. I put a spell on you and it was strong, so strong, so strong, so strong.”

You bounced around your apartment continuing to sing while tidying up. You were so excited for the prospect of pizza you practically ran to your door when there was a knock, opening it without looking through the peephole.

Instead of the pizza there was Bucky, arms crossed with a beaming smile. “Hey neighbor.”

You were surprised to see him, wondering why he would be knocking at your door and not out like you thought he would be. He also declined meeting up with everyone tonight so you assumed he had plans of his own.

“H-hey, what’re you doing here Bucky?”

His arms fell to his sides. “Oh nothing, just wanted to say thank you.”

Your face scrunched with confusion, trying to think of what reason he might need to thank you but just then Bucky answered the question you hadn’t asked.

“For the show. I put a spell on yooooou,” he mimicked, swirling his arms across his chest performatively.

“Oh no, you heard me!?”

You hid your face in your hands as Bucky chuckled, “Thin walls, remember?”

Peeking through your fingers you saw the genuine smile stretched across Bucky’s face. He may have been teasing but he wasn’t laughing at you. Thankfully he hadn’t heard anything worse, because if there was a real Disney marathon on he might have been the one putting on his headphones to block out the high notes you strained to reach in “Let It Go.”

“Yes, yes, I remember,” you smirk back at him. “So, you headed out?”

His head shook before he answered. “No, staying in tonight. I was up all night composing; it threw my whole day off.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that goi– ” The loud buzzing of your doorbell made you jump. That was the pizza. “Hang on a sec.”

You stepped back into your apartment to press the bell for the front door, telling Bucky he might as well step inside as you went to get your wallet.

“Are you hungry? I got pizza from Antonio’s. Have you tried them before?”

He thought about it and shook his head.

“Well sit down then and we can cross it off our list.” You smiled, turning around as you heard the muffled ding of the elevator from down the hall and waited at your front door for the delivery.

Bucky didn’t plan on spending his evening with you but he certainly didn’t mind the sudden change. He excused himself to go back to his apartment and turn off his lights. While there he cancelled plans with a girl named Rachel who would have been over sometime after midnight. She was cute but he really wasn’t feeling anything and truthfully between the lack of sleep he doesn’t have the energy to entertain her.

When Bucky came back you had the pizza set up on the table beside some plates and napkins. “Not sure what you wanted to drink,” you stated, opening your fridge and letting him choose what he wanted.

Together you settled down on your couch, with Bucky holding onto the beer as you raced up again to grab a coaster. He chuckled to himself as you bounced back beside him, taking a sip of the soda that you splashed with a little rum.

“See, it’s like I went out tonight,” you chuckled, raising your glass.

As Hocus Pocus ended you let him flip through the channels to find something to watch. There was an abundance of Halloween movies on and Bucky gasped when he found the perfect one.

“You’ve seen Psycho, right?” He smiled when you nodded. “Okay, but you haven’t seen it with me so you’re really in for a treat.”

Bucky sat up straighter, excited for the start of one of his favorite movies. It took less than ten seconds for him to start breaking things down to you, and not in a pretentious way you’ve been accustomed to by men before. Though you didn’t know Bucky for that long you could immediately see a change in him. His eyes lit up, filled with wonder as he began to describe the score.

“Right away we’re hit with unnerving music playing over the opening title sequence, with the text literally being dissected. It’s audiovisual foreshadowing in its most beautiful form. It really sets the tone for the film.”

All throughout the film Bucky would interject facts that you loved to hear, especially since every word was laced with passion.

“Have you noticed something?”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be noticing,” you said, smiling at him while grabbing another slice.

“The score. It’s all strings. It’s beautiful. You know piano might be my favorite to play but strings…” he sighed happily, “Those are my favorite to compose.”

As the movie continued you couldn’t help but glance over at Bucky, watching the way he would sometimes shut his eyes and listen to the score alone, his mouth tugging his lips into a content smile as he appreciated the music.

When the infamous shower scene came on Bucky tapped your arm, practically scrambling to talk about the score again.

“Herrmann designed the score in a way where the shrill notes of the strings represent the blade stabbing Marion even though you don’t see it. That’s the power of music.”

Bucky turned to the screen to watch the score play out over the scene and when it was over he suddenly remembered he was with you in your apartment and not back in college where his rants on music analysis were welcome.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you probably just wanted to watch the movie and I’m ruining it because I can’t shut my damn mouth.” Fingers ran through his long hair as Bucky let out a stressful sigh.

“No, Bucky it’s okay really. I liked learning about that, it’s not something I ever really thought of before.” Your smile washed away his worries and Bucky thanked you for letting him ramble on.

When the movie ended you and Bucky continued to lounge on your couch, finding another one to watch. Feeling a chill run down your back you grabbed the fuzzy blanket and draped it across yourself, extending the material to Bucky in case he was also cold. With the comfort of the blanket and pizza filling your sated stomachs, neither you or Bucky realized you had ended your evening by falling asleep.

You awake with a groan, reaching your hand up to your neck as it stretches uncomfortably. Blinking your eyes a few times you noticed you weren’t in bed and your couch didn’t feel normal. Sitting up and stretching you finally cocked your head and realized why; you weren’t sleeping on a cushion.

Bucky was asleep on your couch in a half sitting up, half laying down, one-hundred percent uncomfortable position. It wasn’t unusual to have a man sleeping on your couch as Steve had crashed there in the past, and occasionally you had fallen asleep on him but Bucky was not Steve. Yet somehow it didn’t seem as awkward as it should have been. Maybe it was the way Bucky bared his musical heart last night but you felt like you understood him on a new level.

Quietly you got up from the couch, gently placing cups and dishes in the sink making sure they didn’t make a sound. You threw away whatever garbage was lying around, setting the pizza box aside and then finally made your way to the bathroom. You forgot to lock the door and hoped he wouldn’t wake up. Sleeping on Bucky was one thing but you’re not ready for him to burst through the door as you’re peeing.

“Shit. Did I fall asleep here?” Bucky rasped as he woke up not long after.

“Yeah it’s alright. How’s your neck?” you asked just as his face scrunched together while stretching.

“Not the best.” Bucky looked around, seeing your bed covers thrown in the same position he recalled from the night before. “D-did you sleep here too? I mean on the couch, I know this is your place,” he chuckled somewhat nervously.

“Yeah, sorry if your arm’s a little numb. I think I slept on it.” You grimaced as he shook the pins and needles feeling away.

“I feel terrible imposing like this. Let me make it up to you. Breakfast at my place? I make the best omelettes. Five stars, I promise.”

His head tilted down to reveal big, blue eyes that begged for forgiveness. You couldn’t say no if you tried.

“Sounds good Bucky.”

You agreed to come over in a half hour as Bucky wanted to take a shower to really wake himself up first. As the warm water sprayed against his aching muscles he frowned, wondering why he was upset at the momentary loss of your scent surrounding him. This was… weird and Bucky decided not to give it further thought, figuring it comes with the territory of having new friends.

Sunday’s were the only day you had for yourself; no work, no internship, just a full day you could spend however you wanted. Breakfast with Bucky was worth spending some of that time on. Not only were his omelettes as delicious as he said they would be but you really enjoyed his company, even after spending most of the night together.

“Steve you look amazing!”

You beamed as he walked into your apartment, twirling around slowly so you could get a good look at his Robin Hood costume. He set his bow down on your table, asking to help adjust the straps of his quiver containing his plastic arrows.

“So you think you’ll find your Maid Marian tonight?” you smirked, adjusting the hood attached to his green tunic.

Steve chuckled under his breath, ignoring you and quickly changing the topic. “You look heavenly,” he said teasingly.

You raised your palm, belting out an angelic sound as you looked up towards the large silver halo hanging above your head. For your Halloween costume you were going as an angel, wearing a long pleated white dress adorned with a sequined straps and feathery white wings that stuck out a few inches past your shoulders.

“My feet are going to kill me,” you stated, slipping into a pair of glittery platform pumps you haven’t worn since attending your friend Nakia’s wedding last year. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Wanda was dressing up as a devil, probably perfecting her scarlet lips as you speak. She was going to meet up directly at the bar along with Sam who would be coming straight from work. Clint and Natasha would be traveling with you and Steve, and Bucky… well he didn’t exactly RSVP for tonight’s hang out. He said he would try to be there and you hoped he would. It’s been a while since the whole group was together and you missed the fun of that dynamic.

A knock on your door had you clacking your heels against the wood floor as you stride across the room. Steve cocks his head at the immediate burst of laughter he heard.

“S-Steve...”

You’re barely able to get his name out as you walk further into your apartment, face tight with laughter and then he sees it... Clint’s costume. Steve’s head tips backwards immediately with laughter as his hand goes to his chest, unable to contain the sight in front of him.

Clint was dressed, or rather undressed as Princess Leia in her prisoner outfit. A green bra adorned with golden accents stretched across his pale chest and the skirt was cut high on his legs, revealing they had not seen the sun in years, or maybe ever. He wore cowboy boots to complete his look, twirling the gold chain that hung from the choker around his neck, grinning widely at Steve who could not catch his breath.

Natasha strode in behind him as the sexiest Han Solo you’ve ever seen in a simple white shirt and black vest, knee high boots over slim blue pants. They looked amazing together but Clint obviously won between the two.

Locking up you looked over towards Bucky’s door, debating for a moment to knock and see if he would come out. You hadn’t heard much noise through the wall so you let it go and headed towards the elevators with everyone.

“Wanda! What the fuck?!”

You stared at your best friend wearing a costume that was not what you had planned.

“Didn’t you get my text?” She tucked a freshly colored strand of hair behind her ears, a deep cherry red that make the white hat bearing the red nursing cross symbol of her costume stand out even more.

You shrugged off your bag to grab your phone and check, muttering under your breath how mad you would be at yourself if you missed her text.

“Wait, stop.” Wanda halted your actions as you held your phone. “I didn’t text you. I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t want you to be mad at me but I really wanted to go as a nurse.”

“Wan, I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“It’s just that Sam is coming from work and I thought it would be cute… to match him.” She tried to hide the blush that dusted her cheeks.

You teased her a bit more, asking if she and Sam are gonna actually do something other than flirt with each other.

“Well, maybe tonight we can change that.” She smiled, with a hopeful twinkle in her eye.

“I hope so. Sam would be a total ass if he didn’t make a move, just sayin’”

“Speaking of asses, Clint’s is hanging out!” She pointed towards him laughing, “I cannot believe he wore that!”

The night was fun as you danced and drank with the girls. Sam arrived later than you expected but Wanda lit up like a Christmas tree. He wore blue scrubs (a fresh pair thankfully as he began to describe a trauma that came in earlier) and he was equally surprised to see her costume.

“If you came in lookin’ like that we would have had to put a lot of people on life support!”

Wanda and Sam went to get a drink together leaving you and Natasha alone to dance. Clint was sitting in a booth and you scanned the room for Steve who you thought was with him.

“Oh my god!”

You turned Natasha around, to point at Steve in the corner talking to a beautiful Daenerys Targaryen. You had seen a few of them tonight already, some wearing the blue and gold dress from Qarth and another as Daenerys if she were a White Walker, but this one caught your eye.

She was shorter than Steve but stood tall holding her shoulders back. There was something regal about her and not just because she was dressed as the Mother of Dragons determined to finally set sail to Westeros. You couldn’t hear their conversation but you could tell that Steve was hooked on every word, captivated by the way she spoke, watching him look to the floor with embarrassment after she flashed her smile at him.

A woman with short blonde hair dressed as Cersei Lannister came up to them, handing Daenerys, who was obviously her friend, a drink. Steve politely introduced himself, though it was clear he only had eyes for his Khaleesi.

“What’re we looking at?”

The hot breath of a voice tickled your bare shoulders and you turned ever so slightly to find Bucky’s face right beside you.

“You made it!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around Bucky for a hug and he was careful of your wings as he returned the gesture.

“Hey neighbor, or uh neighbors,” he laughed at himself greeting Natasha. “Why are you staring at Steve?”

“‘Cause I think he’s actually flirting with someone for the first time in over a year!”

Bucky smiled as he saw how happy you were for Steve. You had a big heart and it was one of the reasons Bucky really liked you– your friendship, he corrected his inner thoughts.

Natasha walked back to sit beside Clint leaving you and Bucky together. You finally take a look at his costume; a black leather jacket and white t-shirt, cuffed jeans and high top Converse sneakers. His hair was slicked back and pulled into a bun, not the right length to really style as Danny Zuko but everything else made it obvious.

You followed him as he went to the bar to get a drink and got yourself another. He raised his voice over the loud music, “So how many people have asked if it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

“Surprisingly not too many. But someone did grab my hand and said they were ‘touched by an angel.’”

Bucky scowled. “Who grabbed you?” He started looking around the bar, flaring his nostrils as he scanned the room, as if he would magically be able to tell.

You placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “It’s okay, Steve and Clint took care of it. I think Clint scared the guy more to be honest.”

A smile cracked on Bucky’s face again. “He’s pretty brave. You wouldn’t catch me in that.”

“No you look like more of a Luke to me, like literally you kind of look like a young Mark Hamill.” You smiled as Bucky laughed, protesting your claim. “No it’s true. If your hair was shorter I could totally see you pull off an awesome Luke Skywalker.”

“Cut my hair? Hmm, I don’t think so.” He shook his head quickly.

The two of you went to the table with Natasha and Clint and the four of you were soon joined by Steve, whose eyes might as well have been in the shape of hearts by the expression he couldn’t shake.

“What’s her name?” Clint cooed, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his hands under his chin.

A deep smile spread across Steve’s face as he slouched into the chair, his body becoming jelly at the sound of her name leaving his lips. “Peggy. Peggy Carter. Agent Carter actually.”

Peggy was a British Intelligence Agent who worked at the Consulate in New York. Steve looked over her contact information on his phone and even though she was a few feet away from him he couldn’t wait to see her again. He had taken enough of her time away from her friends, Carol, the Cersei who he just met, and the group they were supposed to have joined though Steve and Peggy’s extended conversation kept her occupied.

“Those might as well be Cupid’s arrows huh, Robin Hood!” you teased.

Natasha smirked, “Speaking of Cupid…” She directed everyone’s attention to Sam and Wanda having a full on makeout session in the middle of the dance floor.

Clint roared loudly at them which they may not have heard over the music, but either way it didn’t seem like anything would stop their lips from separating, even the need for air. At least Sam was a doctor, he’ll know what to do.

Everyone seemed to break up into groups. Sam and Wanda were still inseparable, Clint was with Natasha posing for pictures, Steve met up with Peggy again and you couldn’t be mad about that, which left you and Bucky alone.

It was nice to catch up with him again. Between developing programs for The September Foundation and interning at the hospital and Bucky working to meet a deadline you hadn’t seen much of each other in the last week.

“Must be fun though,” he commented, while discussing your new duties at Stark Industries.

“Maybe it would be if I wasn’t so intimidated,” you half-joked, laughing before you took a sip of your drink. “I’m surrounded by– ”

“Buuuccckkkkyyyyy!”

The familiar sound of a woman whining his name interrupted you. A creepy tingle ran down your spine as you remembered where you’ve heard that exact whine before– through the walls.

A redhead wearing hardly anything runs up to Bucky and clearly they have been well acquainted before. She ignores your presence completely as she wraps her arms around him for a hug, pulling him away from you. In doing so you missed the uncomfortable look on Bucky’s face.

“Dot. I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Same. If you told me we coulda matched Buck. I’d be the Sandy to your Danny.” She lifted her chest, pushing her breasts out even more than they already were.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Bucky wondered out loud, looking up and down at the lingerie she was wearing.

Dot scoffed. “I’m the witch from Hocus Pocus.”

Bucky sort of saw it; the purple lace up corset and sheer skirt, cut specifically to show more skin, with the lacy green robe. Her red curls were sort of shaped into Winifred Sanderson’s similar hairstyle but Dot specifically let a few tresses fall beside her face.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re mine!”

She sang every note off key and Bucky tried to stop his face from looking like he was going to throw up. It was nothing like the way you sounded that night you were singing carefree in your apartment. Bucky turned around to plead with you and help him get rid of this girl but you were nowhere to be found.

With Bucky’s attention clearly taken you decided to get another drink and there you ran into Bruce. You knew him from work as one of Tony Stark’s top scientists. You had run into during the R&D meetings you attended with Maria but tonight he looked great as Doc Brown from Back to the Future.

“Some of us science bros wanted to dress up accordingly,” he chuckled softly, pointing out his friends dressed as other famous fictional scientists, Dr. Frankenstein and a mashup of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde.

“That’s amazing!” you laughed, beaming a wide smile that caught Bucky’s attention from across the bar.

You looked really happy while talking to that guy and Bucky didn’t want to interrupt. Just like Steve, he knew you hadn’t given yourself much time in the past to meet someone so if this was your night to get lucky he didn’t want to take that away from you, even if he would much prefer to continue hanging out. Dot grinded against him and Bucky let her, leaving shortly after as she made some bad comment about “riding his broom.”

After speaking with Bruce you caught up with everyone who seemed ready to go home.

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked, looking around for him.

“I think he left with some girl,” Sam said, half paying attention, giggling as Wanda wiped some of her lipstick off of him.

“Oh,” you said, deflated.

Walking out of the bar you draped your jacket across your shoulders and protruding wings, wondering why you felt so hurt that Bucky hadn’t said goodbye. It was rude but you don’t know what you expected.

Before you even knew Bucky you knew this is what he was like, sleeping with half of New York so you shouldn’t be surprised. Yet when you got home, just before getting into bed you stared silently at the wall you shared, feeling a single tear slip down your cheek.

PART 9

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

[pastorpresent]

It's 2am when Dean is woken up, a quick glance to the clock confirming it as exactly 2:06 as his ringtone blares.

He lets his eyes fall shut again and blindly reaches for his phone, figuring it was likely dad just informing him he was heading towards his location after completing his solo hunt. He was going to inevitably give Dean shit for already being done with his, but Dean was still trying to adapt to hunting without Sammy. His dad may be used to working solo but Dean certainly wasn't.

When he answered the phone and held it to his ear though, it wasn't his dad at all.

"Hi, is this Dean? Dean Winchester?" The female voice caught him off guard and he sat up slightly, brows burrowing as his eyes opened properly.

"Yeah, this is him. Who the hell is this?" He questioned, and he could hear a loud noise in the background and the girl spoke again, although it was clearly not directed to him.

"Sam, settle down. You're going to hurt yourself, please."

Dean's blood ran cold, panic filling his veins.

"Sammy?! Look, just tell me who the hell you are and what is going on or so help me-"

"I'm Jessica. I'm Sam's girlfriend." Dean felt a pang in his chest at the idea of Sam dating other people, but he knew that wasn't the main issue right now. "We were asleep and he must've had a nightmare or something and was really freaking out. I managed to wake him up but he's still panicking and on edge" she explained, her voice tight with obvious worry.

Dean forced himself to relax, focus on helping the situation rather than freaking out over it. God, he wished Sam had never left his side. Then Dean could be with him, making sure he was ok and comforting him with their usual gentle touches.

But Sam wasn't by his side. He was hundreds of miles away in a crappy college dorm with his new girlfriend who had no clue how to settle him after something like this. All Dean could do was use his words.

"Put him on."

There was some shuffling from Jessica's end, and then the familiar voice of his brother came through the phone.

"Dean?" Sam sounded apprehensive, and it hurt. This was the first time they'd spoken since Sam left, and his brain was overflowing with things he wanted to say.

Not now though. Right now all he needed to do was settle Sam down.

"Yeah, it's me Sammy. I'm here. Your girlfriend says you had one of those nightmares again."

"I- it was horrible. You- you got torn to pieces while I watched but I couldn't- I couldn't s-save..." Sam trailed off with a broken sob, breathing rough as he cried.

"It wasn't real, ok? You know it wasn't. I'm alive and fine, still in the same one perfect piece like when you saw me last" Dean promised, trying to add an edge of humour to distract Sam a little.

Sam didn't say anything, just continued to cry.

"Alright, I need you to do as I say ok? Breath with me" Dean instructed, inhaling deeply then exhaling out slowly. Sam copied, and after a minute or so Dean could tell his crying had stopped at least.

"That's it, that's good Sammy. How we feeling?" Dean asked, keeping his tone as soft as he could manage.

"I- a bit better. I- I think I mainly needed to hear your voice. For a few minutes I really thought it was all real and that... that you were gone" Sam admitted, and if the motel room Dean was in hadn't been completely silent he probably would've missed his brothers words completely.

"I know Sammy, it's ok. I promise I'm alive and breathing. It was just a bad dream" Dean promised.

There was a heavy silence, and even through the phone Dean could tell Sam was holding back on saying something, but then...

"I miss you, Dean. So bad" the words seemed to climb up Dean's throat and suffocate him, because God did he miss Sam.

He missed him so bad it hurt, and nothing seemed to flush him out. Not alcohol or girls or any of Dean's vices, because his biggest vice of all was Sam. It had been his very first one, after all, and the one he always leaned on the most.

And they hadn't talked in weeks, but now here was Sam in the aftermath of a panic attack telling him he missed him so bad, and Dean felt a sick sort of satisfaction that Sam was so reliant on him too. That his baby brother still needed him, and more important, his baby brother still wanted him.

He felt sickeningly happy about the fact that Sam was sitting in his apartment wanting him all the while his girlfriend was likely just a few feet away.

"I miss you too Sammy, you have no idea how much. It's super late though and you need to try and get some sleep, 'kay? You need me I'm just a phone call away."

"Y-yeah. Ok. I'll talk to you soon?" Sam murmured, and Dean swallowed.

"Of course. Night Sammy."

"Night, De."

The line went dead, and for a few moments Dean just stared at his phone.

He knew he wouldn't call Sam. He was too much of a coward.

#sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #sam and dean #sam x dean #deanxsam #wincest #stanford era #spn fic #mywriting

[supernatural-jackles]

The Man on the Side of the Road Part 11

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 11

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 7,930

Warnings: Minor Angst, Pining, Mentions of the Kiss, Self Hate, Fluff, Male and Female Receiving, Smut

Summary: 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.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: I really hope y’all like this part! As always, feedback is the reason I keep sharing, so please share your thoughts. Happy Reading!

The two of you were back on the road, heading back to your lives once more. You had the windows rolled down, your hair whipping around a little in the breeze. You couldn’t take your mind off of everything that happened while you were in Palo Alto. It was one of the reasons why you were looking forward to heading home. You wanted to get back to having your own space, and time to yourself. You wanted to get back to cooking dinner, and going to school. Reality.

 The first day on the road was much like it was when you drove to Sam. One of you slept while the other drove. Dean drove first and you took the backseat to sleep this time around. You couldn’t shake the feeling you had inside. Ever since you kissed, the tension had been getting more intense. Your feelings certainly didn’t help at all. Your head was continuing to convince you that you were better off friends. That Dean was into someone else, and it was simply a moment you shared and the moment was over. Whatever happened in Palo Alto stayed in Palo Alto. But you couldn’t help but wonder what was soaring through his mind. If he was affected the same way you were.

 You were about three or so hours away from Lawrence. You sat shotgun while Dean drove. His cassette tapes playing through to give you some background noise. You liked his taste in music, so there were no complaints from you. Hell, there wasn’t a whole lot coming out of your mouth in the first place. You didn’t know what to say? And what if you said something and things got awkward. What if you said something and he decided to pack his bags and leave you? Why were you so fucking reliant on having someone by your side? Why couldn’t you be independent? Why couldn’t you handle life on your own?

 “You want to stop somewhere and grab some dinner?” Dean broke the comfortable silence. For a moment, you almost didn’t register what he said. You turned your head, and glanced over at him.

 “Yeah,” you nodded. “Dinner sounds good.”

 He drove for another ten minutes before pulling into the parking lot of a restaurant. It wasn't fancy by any means. But it certainly sold more than just burgers and fries. It felt good to stand up after being in the car for so long. You stretched out your legs and your back, feeling a couple of cracks in all the right places. Dean led the two of you into the restaurant, holding the door open for you to walk in first.

 You picked the first table you could find. It was in the middle of the restaurant, which wasn’t all that busy. It was a table for two, and it was big enough to be comfortable for the two of you. You were exhausted and you felt it more now that you were out of the car and up and walking. You just wanted to be in your own bed. You couldn’t have been more thankful that you still had two days until you had to be back for the rest of your semester.

 “Hello you two,” the waiter greeted you. He had bright red hair, and freckles coating almost every inch of skin on his face. He had to be in high school by the looks of him. He grabbed his notepad from his apron, sliding his pen from the spiral part. “What can we get started for you?”

 “We’ll take two waters please,” Dean started.

 “Perfect,” he nodded. “I’ll be right back with that and to take your order. Sit tight.” He took off with a hop in his step, making your eyes go wide at just how enthusiastic he was. No one you knew was that happy to be at work.

 “I’ll have what he’s taking,” Dean joked, picking the menu up from the table. You did the same, glancing over it to see if there was anything that tickled your fancy. There were ribs, steak, and three different types of chicken on there. Your eyes landed on the classic burger with a side of fries. That was the only thing you even found interest in. Peppy Pete was too much for you.

 “What are you thinking?” you asked him.

 “The burger,” he answered. “You?”

 “Same,” you half smiled.

 The waiter came over, taking your order before grabbing the menus from you. He told you it was going to be about ten minutes until the food was ready, and to just sit tight. You yawned as you leaned your elbows on the table. It was only three hours until you were home, and that was the only thing you wanted. Well, that and sleep.

 “You okay?” Dean questioned, taking a sip of his water. “You’ve been really quiet today.”

 “Just want to go home,” you said softly.

 “Soon enough, Y/N. I promise. I’ll drive the rest of the way back, okay? You can get some rest and we’ll be home before you know it,” he assured you.

 “Thank you,” you yawned once more.

 “That's all that’s bothering you?” he inquired, cocking his eyebrow. “Nothing else?”

 “I’m not trying to think about anything else. I just want to sleep in my own bed, and relax for awhile. I want to lay in my pyjamas all day, and not have to worry about leaving my room. I want to go braless and forgo pants.”

 “All fair points. Only a few more hours until then,” he reminded you.

 “Here’s your meals,” Peppy Pete interrupted, placing each plate on the table individually. “If you need anything, let me know.”

 “Thank you,” you smiled at him, praying he’d leave you be until you were done. Your eyes flicked over to Dean, seeing him smiling at you. It took every ounce of strength you had left in you not to bring up the kiss. You were so wrapped up in your own head that it was killing you not to know why he did it. Better yet, why he did it and didn’t bring it up again? Why did he kiss you when he was into someone else?

 You brought your burger up to your mouth, taking a good bite out of it. The flavour hit your tastebuds instantly. It had to be one of the best burgers you ever had. Just the perfect balance between everything. The cheese was melted. The tomatoes and lettuce were fresh. It was damn perfect and everything you needed in a moment like this.

 “So we never really talked about what you and Sam talked about,” you brought up.

 “That’s because you and Jess spent an awful lot of time together,” he teased you, throwing one of the fries in his mouth. “It was kind of awkward at first. Neither of us really knew where to start. I told him I was sorry for not keeping in contact with him as much as I should have. He told me that it wasn’t my fault. He was the one who didn’t answer my calls. He regretted not coming to Dad’s funeral. I never told him that I saw the accident, or anything like that. I didn’t want him to know that.”

 “Why?” you furrowed your brows. “It might be good for him to know what you’ve been through.”

 “I can’t put that on him, Y/N. It’s my burden to carry, not his. If it comes up, then obviously I’ll tell him, but I’m not going to go out of my way to tell him. I scared him enough when I told him why I called him the last time, and how I met you,” he shared.

 “He thanked me for saving your life, many times,” you mentioned. “He loves you, Dean. Whether he shows it or not. He loves you and he appreciates everything you did for him growing up, more so now than he did back then.”

 “He told me that too,” he nodded. “Basically we just went through it and decided to move forward. It was better to not dwell on what happened years ago with Dad and everything.”

 “Good, I’m glad!” you beamed. “I know how important this trip was to you.”

You were back on the road about half an hour after you ate. Dean offered to pay for dinner this time around. This time, you didn’t fight him on it. You simply wanted to get back in the car and head home as quickly as possible.

 The waiter handed him the cheque and at the bottom, he left a little note and his number. You tried your hardest not to laugh at what he said until you got out of the restaurant, but it was extremely hard. ‘Roses are red, bananas are yellow, wanna go out with a nice little fellow?’

 “I can’t believe he did that,” Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he sped down the highway. “That has to be the worst pick up line in the world.”

 “Tell me about it. I’m all for pick up lines but that one was terrible,” you giggled. “Totally not my type.”

 “You don’t like the younger guys?” he played.

 “I’m almost ten years older than that kid,” you pointed out. Dean let out another laugh.

 The car filled with a comfortable silence after that. Dean turned the radio on, filling the silence with some classics. The sky was growing darker. Rain clouds rolled in, greying the sky much earlier than usual. Eventually spits of rain hit the windshield, turning into a downpour. Dean drove through it like it was nothing. He was calm behind the wheel, as he usually was. Driving was one of those things that helped him clear his head.

 You glanced out the window, taking everything in as much as you could. The rain continued to fall. It was kind of comforting to drive in it, especially when you knew Dean was comfortable behind the wheel. Your mind reeled over everything as your eyes followed the lines of trees on the side of the road.

 You couldn’t peel your mind away from Dean. Everything that happened the week you were away together was all soaring through your head. Skinny dipping, cuddling, the kiss. Fuck, the kiss. The whole thing was bothering you to no end. Why hadn’t he brought it up? Why hadn’t you at least talked about what it was? It was kind of significant, at least to you. You wanted it to happen again if you were being honest. You knew that you couldn’t hold back much longer. You needed to know.

 “We’re almost home. Probably another half an hour,” he told you.

 “Something’s bothering me,” you spoke up, your voice barely there from not talking for so long. “And I can’t hold it in any longer.”

 “Okay,” he breathed out, clearing his throat. “What’s up?”

 “Are we going to talk about what happened in the change room or are we going to pretend that it didn’t happen?” you questioned, not daring to look in his direction. Your eyes averted back out the window, trying not to glance over at the man to gage his reaction.

 “I - I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Do we need to talk about it?”

 “I don’t know. I just - I figured -” you paused, getting tongue tied about it all. Maybe that was why he hadn’t brought it up. Maybe it was one of those things that happened and it was better to leave it at that. “You know what, forget I brought it up.”

 “Okay,” he breathed out.

 You could always pretend it never happened. A spur of the moment kind of thing, right? A hey, I just saw my best friend naked and wanted to see if anything was there, and there wasn’t. It was better left forgotten about, not that you were going to be able to do that anytime soon. You craved more, and it wasn’t just kisses like that. Being with him for the last couple of months, a change from what you were living like for the last three years; you wanted more. You wanted to see what things would be like if you were to be in a relationship with Dean. The only person you trusted. The only person you could see yourself moving on with.  

 But you knew well enough, you couldn’t make someone love you the way you loved them. It wasn’t possible. You couldn’t lose Dean. You couldn’t lose the one person you had grown close to despite everything that had happened. Like he said, he’d take a bullet for you. You couldn’t ruin that.

 Dean pulled into the driveway, right next to your car. He cut the engine, leaving the car in complete silence. You couldn’t have been happier to be home. The road trip was amazing, but you needed to be home in the comfort of your memory foam bed, and your own shower. You needed the freedom to have a lazy day. That was what you were doing for the rest of the weekend. You’d be lucky to see the sunlight with how tired you were feeling.

 “I’ll carry your stuff in. You wanna go unlock the door?” he told you, giving you a soft smile.

 “Yeah,” you nodded, kicking the car door open. The sun was just beginning to set. The front of the house had a pink and orange tinge to it, making it look even more beautiful than it already was. You hopped up the front steps, slipping your key into the lock, opening up the door.

 Your house was exactly the way you left it. Everything was in its place. You took a deep breath, taking it all in once more. Home. Your home with Dean. Dean stepped in right behind you, placing your bag on the floor and his right next to it.

 “Home sweet home,” you breathed out.

 “That it is,” he grinned.

 You kicked off your shoes, and shed your jacket off your shoulders, adding it to the coat rack. The first thing you wanted to do was grab a glass of water after going so long without something to drink. Dean followed closely behind you, most likely thinking the same thing.

 You grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, handing one of them to him. He looked at you with a soft smile, one that you had seen often, especially when he was really comfortable with his surroundings; like when you were watching an episode of Dr Sexy.  He poured his glass, passing it over to you before taking the other out of your hand.

 “I- I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen,” he stated, breaking the silence between the two of you. You swallowed hard, your eyes locking with his. “I don’t want to, and I don’t know what to say, you know? It - it just happened, and I couldn’t control myself for a second. I get it if you want to. Obviously you brought it up and it’s been on your mind since it happened-”

 “I don’t want to forget it. I don’t think I could forget it even if I tried,” you breathed out. “I mean, I kissed you back so I’m just as much to blame for this as you are.”

 “Yeah I guess you’re right,” he half smiled, looking at you with soft eyes.

 “Let’s just move forward from it. It happened, it was great. New day,” you stated, nodding your head with a smile at your solution. It was the simplest thing to do. Not what you wanted, but it was easier than telling him you wanted to do it over and over again. It was a beautiful moment. One you weren’t going to forget. It was nice to be able to say that the last person you kissed wasn’t Ketch. It was the first step you needed to move forward from him. Small baby steps.

 “Yeah, we can do that,” he agreed. He placed his glass on the counter, turning back to you. You downed the rest of your water, heading over to the sink to place your empty glass. You knew you had to take your bag back to your room, and empty it out to get ready to do the laundry in the morning.

 “I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Long day in the car in all,” you said lowly.

 “Y/N wait,” he breathed out. You turned on your heel, looking back at him. He took a step closer to you, his hands cupping your cheeks. Before you could even register what was happening, his lips were on yours, kissing you fast and hard. Your heart began to race by the time you realized what was going on. His lips were on yours for the second time, right after you said you were going to move forward from the last one. Clearly that wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what you wanted either. You reached out, slipping your hands around his waist as you kissed him back. God, this kiss was better than the first.

 “Dean,” you muttered against his lips. “Mmh, Dean - what are we doing?”

 “Fuck sorry,” he pulled away, taking a sharp intake of air. “I shouldn’t-”

 “It’s okay, I just - I want to know what’s going on,” you stammered out. “One second we’re agreeing on something, then going the opposite way the next second.”

 “Sorry, I just - I got to thinking and then I wanted to again,” he shrugged. “I swear, that was it.”

 “Yeah?” You cocked your eyebrow, trying to hide your smile.

 “No,” he shook his head with a smile before leaning down once more. His lips meeting yours again. You couldn’t help but smile against him. He was too damn cute at that moment. He knew what he wanted, and he was going for it. “Not even close.”

 “Mhh Dean, this -” you pecked his lips, “is a bad idea.”

 “Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckled, kissing you again. His hands slipped around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You damn near melted against him. Being in his arms was the best place to be, but it was a million times better when you were kissing him. Maybe this meant he had some sort of feelings for you; feelings similar to yours. “This is a really-” kiss “bad idea.”

 “Horrible idea,” you giggled against him, pecking his lips once more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pushing yourself against him.

 “Yeah,” he nodded. “But seeing you smile the way you are right now is hard to resist.”

 “As if that’s the only reason,” you paused, bringing one of your hands behind his head. Your fingertips playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck.

 “No it’s really not,” he shook his head with a laugh. “Shouldn’t have done it. Don’t wanna stop.”

 “Does it look like I’m stopping you?”

 With that, his lips were on yours once more. This time, with nothing holding him back. His grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against him. You were a few steps behind him, letting him have his way with you and what he wanted to do. You trusted this man more than anyone. He wasn’t going to do something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. You were close enough now that a few kisses weren't going to ruin your friendship. That was clear enough to you now.

 His hands slipped over your ass, reaching down to your thighs. He picked you up off the ground with ease, placing you on the counter behind you. He slipped between your legs, fitting perfectly as his lips moved in a slow sync with yours. You were really making out with your best friend in your kitchen. You were loving every second of it. The way his lips felt on yours. The way his hands caressed your body; not pushing you too far. This was definitely a step in the right direction. You just hoped that maybe this meant a little more to him too.

 His tongue grazed your bottom lip as his grip tightened around you. You granted him access almost instantly. God, you felt like a teenager again, minus the fear of your mom walking in and finding you of course. Although, it was always a possibility with her. You were happy. You were really, really happy. It was about time that you were.

 You wrapped your legs around his waist, dragging him in closer to you. Your arms tightening around him. His hands slipped down to your ass, resting them there. God, he was fucking perfect. You inched yourself forward, your centre brushing against the growing bulge in his pants. Now that was something new.

 “Mhh, we should stop,” he muttered against your lips.

 “Yeah?” you mumbled.

 “I’m not gonna be able to hold back with you pressed against me like this,” he chuckled, pecking your lips as he spoke. He fucking wanted you, and there was nothing sexier than that. “Feels too good.”

 “Take me to the bedroom then,” you whispered, your legs tightening around him. His boner trapped between your bodies. He pulled back, his eyes darker than usual. He was trying to gage your expression by the looks of it. Trying to see if you were serious, and you were. You wanted this. You wanted him more than anything.

 “Y/N, are you sure?” he cocked his head. His hands trailing up your back. “Like sure sure?”

 “More than sure,” you nodded.

 He slipped you off the counter, his hands making their way to your thighs as he carried you from the kitchen and through the hall, heading to your room. Your heart was racing in your chest. Your lips traced along the side of his neck to keep you occupied. You didn’t miss the way his grip tightened on you, or the way his breathing grew as you left little wet spots in your wake.

 Your back hit the mattress with a bounce. His body fell on top of yours, his lips back on yours. His body weight felt surprisingly good on top of you, more than you thought he would. Your lips moved in that same perfect sync with his. He was in no rush to get naked with you. It seemed like he wanted to take his time, and treat you the way he thought you deserved. Dean was one of a kind. He was the one guy you knew would treat you better than anyone ever had. That was one of the reasons why you loved the man. He was the only person you could see yourself with.

 “Dean,” you breathed out, breaking the kiss. Your hands slipped beneath his flannel, shoving the material over his shoulders. He gave you a soft smile that made your heart melt just a little.

 “You trying to get me naked?” he chuckled.

 “It’s not like it’s the first time,” you winked playfully. “I did enjoy it the first time around.”

 Dean sat back on his calves, shrugging his flannel shirt off his body, throwing it to the side. Your eyes were fixated on him. There was a part of you that couldn’t believe this was happening. That he was above you, taking off his clothes. His jeans were tight because of you. He wanted to do this with you and that on it’s own, made you feel good about yourself. He took the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his perfectly imperfect stomach. He was so fucking handsome.

 “Mhhh, damn you are fucking gorgeous,” you smirked, eyeing him up and down.

 “Oh stop it,” he let out a laugh. “You’re wearing far too much for my liking.”

 “Then take it off me,” you played. You watched his lip curl upwards as he reached for the hem of your shirt. You sat up, raising your arms up, making it easier for him. Dean threw your shirt to the floor, joining his other two before smirking at you.

 His hands made their way to his belt, quickly undoing it before unbuttoning his jeans, shoving them down his thick bowlegs in one swift movement. You smiled when you saw the bulge in his tight black boxers. That was all because of you. That was all you that did that to him.

 His body came down on top of yours, capturing your lips with his in a heated, wet kiss.

 You wrapped your legs around his waist, dragging him in closer to you. You craved his touch. You had your chance to feel his skin beneath your fingertips. His tongue brushed over yours as your hand carded through his hair.  You dreamed of this moment. Hell, you dreamed about having him for months. His kisses were so much better. The way he felt on top of you was something you never wanted to forget. You finally felt like you belonged with someone. You slipped your other hand down the length of his back, feeling his warm muscles beneath your touch.

 He pulled back a little, his breath fanning against your lips. You could feel his hardening length pressed perfectly against your heated core. “You okay so far?”

 “‘M perfect,” you nodded, leaning up a little to peck his lips.

 “Is this leading where I think it’s leading?” he asked.

 “Is it?” you cocked your head to the side with a smirk.

 “If it is, I have condoms in my room,” he told you.

 “I have some in here too,” you assured him. “I’m not on birth control.”

 “I know you’re not,” he nodded. “I pay attention.”

 He pecked your lips once more, making you smile against him. His hand trailed down the side of your body, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up. His lips traced along your jaw, making their way to your neck. You let out a sigh of content, enjoying the pleasure that jolted through you as his tongue brushed against the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, tilting your head to the side to grant him more access. Your eyes fluttered shut as you relished in the feeling of him.

 “Dean,” you breathed out as you jutted your hips against his.

 You felt him smile against your neck before he traveled lower. He peppered kisses along your collarbone, leaving tiny wet spots in his wake. He was worshipping your body, as if he was never going to get this opportunity again. Neither of you knew if this was going to last after this. You wanted more. You wanted to wake up next to him in the morning, and see that stupid happy grin on his lips. You wanted to lean over and kiss every inch of his handsome face. This was right. You were good together. You were two lost souls when you met. Two completely broken, lost souls that mended as one.

 He made his way down to the valley between your breasts. His thumbs resting below the band of your bra as he made his way lower. He wasn’t about to do anything without permission. This wasn’t about him and he made it so damn obvious. He didn’t want to do something to you that you weren’t one hundred percent okay with.

 “May I take this off you?” he asked quietly, looking up at you through his lashes before pressing a kiss to your navel.

 “Yes,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You arched your back off the bed before sitting up. He was off you in an instant, his eyes never leaving your face. He had this soft smile playing on his swollen lips. That very same smile he had when he saw you naked the first time. That same smile that he had the first time you made him smile. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. His hands reached around your back, finding the band where your bra connected. The material loosened as he pulled back. His fingers ghosting along your skin as they made their way to your straps. His movements were slow, giving you enough time to stop him if you changed your mind.

 The second the material was off your body, you leaned back. He reached down, palming himself through his boxers before resuming where he was. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that he wanted you.

 “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he muttered, looking up at your face once more.

 “I have this pretty great guy telling me that often,” you smiled. “I’m actually starting to believe him.”

 “He’s not wrong,” he smirked. “Can I?”

 “Please,” you nodded. He leaned down, positioning himself where he was before. His hand carefully traced up the side of your body, coming up just below your breast once more. His hands were warm against your skin. His lips headed towards your left nipple as his hand moving up to your other breast. The second his lips wrapped around your hardening bud, you let out a tiny whimper. He was so gentle and attentive. His hand massaged the other, giving them both equal attention. You could feel yourself growing slicker with every touch. God, you wanted him.

 When he was content that he had given your breasts enough attention, he made his way down your navel, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. You arched into him, craving more and more of him. His hands slid down your body after his kisses. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You never wanted him to stop.

 “Still doing okay so far?” he questioned, glancing up at you once more.

 “Yeah,” you nodded. “More than okay.”

 “So if I was to continue. Take this incredibly sexy underwear off and get you ready for me, you’d be okay with that?” he cocked his eyebrow.

 “If you want to. You don’t have to,” you reassured him.

 “Trust me, I want to. I love doing it,” he stated. Hearing him say that put you at ease. Typically men just did it so they’d get some themselves. Or because you gave it to them first. Not that it happened every time of course. “Gotta say though, doesn’t surprise me that you said that.”

 “Doesn’t surprise me that you put that together either,” you chuckled.

 “Just lay back. Don’t be afraid to tell me what to do,” he winked at you.

 His fingers curled in the waistband of your boyshorts. You arched your back once more, making it easier for him to pull them down your legs. You were thanking yourself for shaving in the shower. He tossed your panties to the side, his hands tracing up the inside of your thighs. You instinctively spread your legs a little more for him. He placed kisses along the most sensitive parts of your skin, heading straight for where you wanted him the most. You could feel the ache in your core. You wanted him so damn bad and he was going to feel just how much when he touched you. Finally, he reached his hand between your legs, his fingers brushing through your folds.

 “Holy, you’re so ready for me, Y/N,” he muttered. “Can’t wait to taste you, sweetheart.” If that wasn’t the sexiest thing you had ever heard come out of that man's mouth. You could feel your cheeks heating up. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

He inched closer, his hot breath fanning against you. His eyes flicked up momentarily, meeting yours as he smirked. His tongue was on you, flattened against your center before dragging upwards to your clit. You let out a strangled moan at the new sensation. He repeated the same motion three times, each time getting slower and slower.

 His arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down just a little. You bucked against his mouth at the close contact. He truly enjoyed lapping away at your folds, tasting you. Your eyes were clamped shut, focused purely on the feeling of him.

 “Oh my god, Dean,” you cried out. A thin layer of sweat coated your body. His tongue swirled around your clit a couple of times, causing your breathing to hitch. You threw your head back, your eyes clamping shut once more. You reached down, carding your fingers through his hair, holding him in place. You could feel that coil in your abdomen growing tighter with every movement. His lips wrapped around your clit just as his middle finger pushed into your entrance. You let out a wanton moan as you bucked against him. Your body was shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. Fuck, he was so good at it. He knew exactly how to get you where you needed, and he certainly enjoyed himself as he did.

 You didn’t even register him pulling away. Your chest was heaving, your eyes were shut tight. You loved every second of what he gave you. His lips trailed up your torso, heading back up to yours. His kiss was sweet, and you could taste yourself on his lips. It was definitely a lot hotter than you expected it to be.

 “You have no idea how hot you are when you come undone,” he muttered, pecking your lips once more.

 “You’re good at that,” you complimented him, kissing him back.

 “I love doing that,” he smirked.

 “Now it’s my turn,” you wiggled your eyebrows.

 “You don’t have to,” he shook his head.

 “I want to,” you nodded. You did. You really did want to return the favour. It wasn’t really returning it, but it gave you a chance to give him a glimpse of what he just did to you. “You wanna lay back for me?”

 “Yeah,” he breathed out, rolling over to the empty side of the bed. You wanted to give him a taste of what he just did to you.

 You threw your leg over his lap, straddling his erection before your lips collided with his. His hands were on you in an instant, tugging you in close to him. God, you could kiss this man for hours on end. He knew how to kiss, and keep up in a perfect sync without even trying.

 Your lips traced along his jaw, feeling the soft stubble that was growing. You loved it when he didn’t shave for a couple of days and had the scruffy look. Even more so when he teased you and rubbed his face on your neck to make you laugh. He was always making you laugh.

 You kissed down to his neck, nibbling down just below his ear. He let out a little sigh of content, making you smile as you continued. You never thought that you would have ended up here. You never thought that the man you picked up off the side of the road would be beneath you while you kissed his neck. This man changed everything for you.

 You slowly made your way down his torso. Your hands slipping down the sides of his perfect stomach that you had loved since the second you saw it. He was a damn gorgeous looking man.

 “Y/N,” he breathed out. It was like music to your ears; hearing him say your name like that. You kissed the top of the waistband of his boxers. Your body falling between his muscular bowlegs.

 “Can I take these off?” You asked him. You wanted to be sure that he wanted this. That he wanted you.

 “Please,” he nodded.

 Your fingers curled in the waistband of his black boxers. The tiny trail of hairs was the first thing you saw as you revealed more and more. His hard length sprang free, hitting his stomach with a slap. God, if you thought he was gorgeous the first time you saw him naked; this was something. He was much bigger now that he was fully hard.

 “You have to be the sexiest man in the entire world,” you told him. His lip curled upwards as he sat up. You threw his boxers to the side. His hands cupped your cheeks before he kissed you hard. You were expecting that in the slightest but it had to have been the best feeling.

 “That’s because I’m with you,” he smirked.

 “Oh stop it,” you giggled. “Dean, you’re handsome as hell.”

 You pushed him back on his back before positioning yourself comfortably between his legs. You took his impressive cock in your hand, feeling the velvety smoothness in your palm. You could see the tip was glistening precum, and you knew that had to be because of you. You stuck your tongue out, dipping it in the slit, tasting him on your tongue; a salty sweetness that you could most definitely get used to.

 “Fuck,” he muttered, throwing his head back. You smiled to yourself, knowing that you were making him feel good.

 You slid your tongue down his shaft, getting him ready for you to get to the fun part. You ran over both sacs, giving them the attention they deserved without being too rough. You jerked his cock in your hand, giving him a little bit of everything, just like he did for you.

 You moved up, slipping the tip in the heat of your mouth. Granted you weren’t the greatest when it came to blowjobs. You could never take them too deep in your throat without gagging. But you knew exactly how to work around that detail. Dean gathered up your hair, making a ponytail in his hands so it wasn’t in the way. Your tongue swirled around the tip, dipping into the slit every so often to taste more of what he was giving to you. Your saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth, making it easier for you to jerk what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

 You bobbed your head up and down his cock, meeting your hand each and every time. You could see he was holding back from thrusting up into your mouth, and you made a note to tell him how much you appreciated that later. You could feel him twitching on your tongue and you knew he was getting close by the way he was breathing, and the way his neck was exposed to you. He was getting a good amount of pleasure from you.

 “Fuck, Y/N I need you to stop,” he cried out. You pulled off instantly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. His chest was heaving, his hands were over his eyes. He certainly enjoyed what you did to him.

 “You okay?” You questioned, looking down at him with a smile playing on your lips.

 “You’re so damn good at that,” he sighed with a wide grin. He pushed himself up, his eyes meeting yours once more. “We don’t have to go any further than this.”

 “I know,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.”

 “Me too,” he breathed out. “Gotta grab a condom first.”

 “Top drawer on your side,” you informed him. Dean rolled over to the side, his feet hitting the ground before he stood up. You moved up, laying down in the middle of the bed. You were actually about to have sex with him. You were actually doing this with him, the only person you had ever wanted this much. He reached for his jeans, giving you the perfect view of him naked from behind. He pulled out something from his pocket before turning towards the side table. He flicked open a lighter, bringing it down to the candle you had on the top. It was a sweet gesture that made your heart skip a beat.

 He opened up the side drawer, finding the box of condoms easily. He took one out of the box, shutting the drawer before sitting down on the bed. He ripped the package with his teeth, taking the rubber out, sliding it on his length with ease. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for this.

 “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked you once more. He rolled closer to you, his hand resting on your hip. His thumb grazed over your skin, drawing soothing circles.

 “More than sure, Dean,” you nodded.

 “We’ll go slow,” he assured you. “Anytime you want to stop, just tell me okay?”

 “Okay,” you swallowed hard. “Thank you. You want to do this?”

 “Yeah, I do,” he smiled softly.

 He shifted himself between your legs, and you instinctively spread them a little wider to fit his frame. He reached down, taking his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance. Your eyes locked on his face as your hands reached up for him. He was much bigger than you were used to, and you knew that he was going to stretch you in ways that you hadn’t been before. The tip of his cock brushed through your folds, gathering up your slick to make it much easier for him to slip in.

 He pushed the tip of his cock inside you, his hand moved up as he positioned himself above you. He caged your head between his arms. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging him in closer. He slipped in slowly, filling you up and stretching you out carefully. It was an amazing feeling. His lips collided with yours, his tongue sliding along yours as he rested on top of you bottoming out. He felt perfect inside you. Two lost souls becoming one.

 “You okay, pretty girl?” he asked, struggling to get his words out.

 “Yeah,” you nodded. “Feels really good.”

 “You have no idea how good you feel,” he swallowed hard, his lip curling upwards. “‘M gonna move now, okay?”

 “Please, Dean,” you whispered.

 He adjusted himself once more, drawing his hips back before thrusting forward at the exact same pace. His lips were on yours, kissing you sweetly as you grew accustomed to his length. Your eyes fluttered shut as you allowed yourself to relish in the feeling of being with the man you loved. The man who saved your life.

 “Shit, you feel amazing,” he muttered against your lips. His lips left yours, tracing along your jaw to head to the other side of your neck; the side he was yet to touch. One of your hands slipped into his hair, your nails scratching his head. He let out a low grunt, his pace picking up just a little.

 “Dean,” you moaned, tilting your head to the side. You wrapped your legs around him, giving him a new angle to work with. You wanted to be closer to him. You wanted to feel every inch of him. It also helped you move against him with a little more ease. His cock dragged against your walls, hitting places that sent tiny waves of pleasure jolting through you. You had no idea sex felt this good when it was done like this. The right way.

 “Y/N, f-fuck,” he growled. “You’re so damn perfect.”

 His words hit you hard, tears pressed your eyes as they settled in. His arms snaked around your back as he rocked into you. He clung to you as if you were going to disappear beneath him. It was really starting to set in that you loved this man. You truly loved him and you knew you did because there was no other human being on the planet that made you feel the way he did. Not even the man you were supposed to marry all those months ago.

 “Dean, I’m -”

 “Go ahead, sweetheart,” he muttered, “right behind you.”

 His thrusts picked up the pace, brushing against your sweet spot with precision. Your breathing increased as your coil grew tighter and tighter once more. You dragged him in closer, pulling him tightly against your chest. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out tiny whimpers as you grew closer. You could hear his grunts in your neck, and you knew right then he was right there with you.

 “Let go, Y/N,” he urged you on. “Want you.”

 Your walls fluttered around him as he pushed back inside you, hitting your spot right on. Your fingers curled into his back muscles, as you constricted around him. He felt so damn amazing inside you. You cried out his name, breathed rapidly as pleasure soared through you.

 “Son of a -“ he growled, bucking his hips into yours. Hearing the moans escaping passed his lips had to be the sexiest thing you had ever heard. His orgasm ripped through him, causing him to cling on tightly to you in the process.

 He lay on top of you as you came down from your impeccable highs. Your fingers danced over his freckle dusted shoulders, calming him down with you. It was over now, and you didn’t regret it for a single second. He was amazing. He treated you better than anyone ever had. It was a perfect first time together.

 “You okay?” He asked, his voice low and a little raspy.

 “I’m good,” you nodded. “You?”

 “Awesome,” he smiled softly.

 “That was perfect,” you commented. “You were perfect.”

 “I’m the farthest thing from perfect,” he chuckled. “But that was amazing. Better than I pictured it going.”

 “You’ve pictured it?” You teased.

 “Shut up,” he smirked. The tips of his ears going red as he did. “Let’s get you into bed.” He carefully withdrew himself from you, making sure the condom stayed in place as he did. He was quick in discarding it in the trash can beside the table. He got up and headed into your bathroom, flicking on the light as he did. You soon realized that this was the first time you had ever had sex with some sort of light. Granted it wasn’t a lot of light but it counted. You didn’t feel insecure with him and you knew exactly why.

 He walked back in the room with a washcloth in hand. You watched as he reached down between your legs, cleaning you up before doing the same for himself. You were the first one to climb into bed, forgoing your clothes this time. You wanted that skin to skin contact with him. You wanted what you never had before.

 Dean turned out the light, the only light source was coming from the candle that he had lit prior. The comforter covered up to your chest as you lay in the middle of the bed. You felt like you should say something to him, just to make sure you knew where this was going. He climbed in next to you, adjusting the covers before he blew out the candle, leaving the room in complete darkness.

  “Are you okay?”

 “Yeah,” you nodded. “Just intense, you know?”

 “I know,” he breathed out. “For me too. C’mere.  You shifted closer to him, your body pressed against his as you threw your arm around his waist. The warmth of his skin put you at ease.  You were good enough for him, you repeated in your head. He wouldn’t have done that with you if he didn’t want you.

 His hand came up to your chin, urging you to look up at him. He leaned down slowly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before pulling away. That was a feeling you were never going to grow tired of.

 “G’night sweetheart,” he mumbled.

 “Sweet dreams.”

~~~~~~~~~

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#The Man on the Side of the Road #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester One Shot #Dean Winchester Imagine #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Fanfic #Dean one shot #Dean Imagine #Dean fanfic #Dean Drabble #Dean Winchester Drabble #Supernatural #Supernatural One Shot #Supernatural Imagine #Supernatural Fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #Supernatural x Reader #SPN #SPN One Shot #SPN Imagine #SPN Fanfic #SPN Drabble #SPN Fanfiction #supernatural-jackles

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

prompt: Undercover

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

Dean has been undercover for many times in his life.

FBI agent, Homeland Security officer, reporter, janitor, gym teacher, lunch lady, maintenance guy, minister, private detective, and so on and so on. The list is so long that he's actually more familiar with playing a role when interacting with strangers than being himself.

So when they're on yet another case again and Sam calls him from the local library and tells him to dress up Dean doesn't even think about questioning it.

“Your fanciest clothes,” Sam orders, making it pretty clear there should be no discussion about it. “Designer suit, shiny shoes. And a shave because you're starting to look like a hobo.”

Dean barely lifts an eyebrow. “What do you need me to be? A snobby multimillionaire too good for this world.”

“The snobbiest,” Sam agrees. “It needs to look like the stench of money is following you everywhere.”

And so Dean does as he's told.

A while ago he got himself one of those super expensive Armani or whatever outfits for a case (thanks to Charlie's unlimited credit card no problem at all) and has it stashed in the depths of Baby's trunk ever since. It's only been used once so far considering fake FBI agents or journalists are rarely dressed in designer suits. At least not if they don't want to draw too much unwanted attention to them.

Dean isn't exactly sure the damned thing still fits after all that time, but after a quick shower and shave he gives it a try and finds himself pleasantly surprised when the suit still wraps itself over his body like a glove. Only around the hips it got a bit tight, but if he'd refrain from bending over it should be fine.

And it actually makes his ass look extra great, Dean has to admit. He snaps a quick picture of it and sends it to Cas because he can't help himself. Cas answers immediately with a long string of enthusiastic emojis that are both incredibly sweet, involving lots of hearts, as well as highly inappropriate and Dean loves him even more for it.

He makes a mental note to wear that suit the next time they'll be alone to see how fast the angel would be able to rip the clothes off his body and then he heads out to meet with Sam.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a jewelry store, with his tall mountain of a brother waiting at the entrance. He is dressed in fancy clothes as well and considering he left their motel room a few hours ago just with his usual plaid attire he obviously went shopping in the meantime. The suit doesn't fit a hundred percent in some places, making it obvious this was a rather quick shopping trip with no time for a proper fitting, but it makes him nonetheless look extra posh too.

“We look good,” Dean remarks with a grin as he stops next to Sam. “Like we could buy all of the world in a heartbeat and still have a couple of millions left as pocket money.”

Sam merely huffs with a fond smile. “If you say so.”

“So what is the situation?” Dean asks, pointing at the store.

“I just got a lead that our annoying spirit might have a connection to a wristband that's on display here,” Sam tells him. “It had belonged to her before she died. And I know it's not much, but I wanna check it out anyway.”

That specific spirit had been annoying them for days now because they were unable to figure out what kept her here in the first place. So Dean will take any lead they can get, no matter how small.

“I'm actually not very optimistic,” Sam explains with a sigh. “But our ghost is showing up here in the area, so it's not a total longshot. We just need to get inside and distract the employees a little.”

“Hence the fancy clothes.” Dean nods in understanding. He highly doubts they would've even gotten past the security guard on the door in their usual jeans. Most likely even their regular FBI suits wouldn't have been good enough.

“So we just go inside and one of us pretends to be a customer while the other subtly checks out that wristband?” Dean asks nonetheless.

Sam nods. “Don't worry, I have a plan.”

Dean blinks, but has no time for further questioning since Sam's already shoving him through the gigantic front door. He's instantly greeted with lots of bling and bright lights and the absolute perfect room temperature (like seriously, did they hire a guy just to keep a close eye on that the entire time?) before getting pushed to the main counter where a blonde woman with a way too wide smile happily waits to bury her flawlessly manicured nails into those new  potential buyers.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice as melodic and perfect as the air in the store. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, we've got an important purchase to make,” Sam announces, sounding all kinds of pompous. “Because you see, my brother here,” he grabs Dean's shoulders and grins at him with such an intensity Dean can't help feeling wary all of a sudden, “he intends to propose to his boyfriend.”

Dean blinks rapidly.

What?

Okay, Dean certainly didn't expect that.

The woman – Marlene, as her name tag tells them – seems taken aback by that for a moment as well, but she picks herself up much quicker than Dean. Her smile increases a few thousand watt while she turns toward the groom-to-be. “This is wonderful. Congratulations!”

Dean feels a bit like he's been hit right in the face, out of nowhere.

Thankfully he is actually used to unexpected violent attacks and has learned fairly early to deal with them.

“Um … thanks,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Marlene apparently misinterprets his awkward fumbling for adorable shyness or whatever and looks at him like she's ready to adopt him right here on the spot.

“You have to excuse him, this is still a bit much for him,” Sam leaps back into the conversation. “He's been thinking about this moment for years and I guess it might be a tad surreal that it's finally happening.”

“Really?” Marlene seems truly intrigued hearing that.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs way too dramatically, “Dean's basically been thinking about marrying Cas since the first moment they met.”

Well.

Actually his first meeting with Cas was more like Dean having a sudden realization á la, “Wow, he's hot!” and then stabbing the guy in the chest.

But Dean refrains from pointing that one out.

It might have ended in those people declaring them insane and kicking them out of the store. And though Dean is used to the first, he doesn't need the latter right now.

“Dean just wants everything to be perfect,” Sam points out, sounding exactly like a guy who is used to getting what he wants. “It's a big day.”

“It most certainly is,” Marlene agrees, dollar signs already flashing up in her eyes. “We have a vast collection of engagement rings and I'm sure we will find something to your liking.”

“Money is not the issue,” Sam says those magic words that make Marlene even more excited, so it seems. “The bigger and more extravagant, the better.”

Marlene smiles widens, appearing incredibly sweet and harmless on the surface. But Dean knows a predator focusing on its prey when he sees it.

On instinct he actually wants to take a step back and hide, but instead he gathers enough courage to meet her smile. It's still somewhat wobbly, but she probably blames it on his alleged nervousness about that big change in his life.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about your Cas?” she prods him. “What is he like?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, cursing him for having to endure this in the first place, before clearing his throat and responding, “He's … um, awesome.”

Way to go, Winchester.

She is certainly swooning on the spot.

Dean winces inwardly and forces himself to get a little bit more into his role. After all, he is used to the undercover life, so this shouldn't be too hard.

For a minute there he even considers to lie about Cas' personality, wondering whether that would make it easier to talk about him to a total stranger, but as he's just about to come up with some made-up character traits, he hears himself saying, “Well, to be fair, he's an asshole.”

Marlene looks at him in surprise while Sam in the background rolls his eyes.

“Uh … okay?” Marlene answers, clearly not sure how to reply to that.

“Cas is grumpy,” Dean goes on, now a fond smile flickering over his features. “I'm quite certain he is the biggest grump in the history of mankind, to be honest. And he's way too sassy for his own good. Also he has no idea how to clean up after himself and he always hums those annoying jingles he heard on the radio or whatever. All day. I'm actually surprised I haven't gone mad many years ago.”

Or maybe he has.

With his life, who could tell?

“But he's also a badass,” Dean continues, registering the only other employee who's been lacking any customers at the moment sliding closer with clear interest in her eyes. “No one should dare to screw around with him. And the few that actually did regretted it pretty quickly.”

That's, of course, an understatement actually, but he won't go into much detail now. For those poor women's sanity.

“And he cares, so much,” Dean goes on, an affectionate smile settling on his face when his thoughts drift closer to Cas. It's an automatic response at this point and he's pretty sure it'll stay like that for the rest of his life. “Even about that stupid little fly that got lost into our room a couple of weeks ago. It feels like we spent hours catching that thing and releasing it back into the wild. But what could you have done, you know? Cas would've been miserable if that fly would've died inside and that's something nobody wants to see. Believe me. He looks like a kicked puppy when he's sad.”

The salesladies scoots even closer, captivated by Dean gushing over his boyfriend. While Sam subtly starts to step back a little and check out the rest of the display, trying to locate the wristband of their obnoxious ghost.

Dean clears his throat, despite still feeling like he's been thrown into icy water without any warning whatsoever by his traitorous brother more than determined to play this role like their lives depend on it. After all, there here and they might not get a second chance.

So Dean gives it all he's got.

“So yes, Cas, he's great,” he says. “He's been my best friend for such a long time now and I … I guess I want him at my side for the rest of my life. And even beyond that.”

Dean smiles at the image of sharing his Heaven with Cas one day. It might be a hassle to get there at first – after all, Cas' relationship with his brethren is still not the best –, but Dean has no doubt that it'll come true eventually. Cas is way too much of a stubborn son of a bitch to not see this through.

Dean blinks as he suddenly realizes that he is in fact beginning to fantasize about Cas by his side forever as a real possibility.

Huh.

“As mentioned, we have a vast collection of engagement rings to help you start this new chapter of your life,” Marlene says with a happy sigh. “We would be more than happy to help you with your endeavor.”

Dean stares at her for a moment.

Oh right. Rings. The case.

“Yes, right,” he mutters, a slight blush on his face now. “It … it needs to be perfect.”

Marlene and her colleague – Amanda, as her name tag tells him – immediately spur into action and for the next ten minutes Dean sees himself confronted with a huge variety of different rings in all shapes and forms. A few are actually quite simple and elegant – silver bands with a couple of nice highlights – and some are seriously so over-the-top pompous and big Dean has no idea how a normal human being should be able to wear that on their hand.

But he smiles at them all and fakes such exaggerated interest both Marlene and Amanda seem to believe they're in Heaven themselves.

And it seems like a freaking eternity until Sam pops up next to him again.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he jumps right into their enthusiastic conversation. “My girlfriend just texted me. Her doctor's appointment ended way earlier than expected and I need to pick her up.”

A blatant lie, of course, considering Eileen is back at the bunker with Cas, probably getting her ass beaten in every single board game invented by the best of all strategists Heaven has ever produced.

“But don't worry, Dean will be back shortly,” Sam promises right away as both Marlene and Amanda look rather crestfallen at those news. “After all, Dean can't wait to get married.”

They bid hasty goodbyes and are soon enough back on the streets again.

“So, any luck?” Dean asks when he's starting to remember the real reason why they went into the store in the first place.

“I found the wristband,” Sam admits. “But there's no suspicious energy to it. It's just jewelry.”

“Damn,” Dean sighs. “Well, it was worth a shot, at least.”

“Yeah …”

“And that was one hell of a cover story, Sammy,” Dean can't help pointing out for some reason.

Sam shoots him a quick glance, something intense flickering over his features.

“It wasn't though, right?” he asks in the end. “A cover story, I mean. Not really, at least.”

Dean frowns. On first instinct he wants to deny that, just wants to scoff at his brother's face and get on with his life, but then he thinks about Cas and how nice he would look with a ring on his finger and he finds himself lowering his gaze to cover up the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh … well, maybe it wasn't really a cover story after all,” he admits, his voice low, yet steady.

“So you want to go back?” Sam wonders, a smile on his lips. “ Look at those rings again? When this case is over and everything.”

Dean blinks. A few of those rings actually did look kind of awesome, if he's honest with himself. And sure, they're pretty expensive, but also very durable (an important feature in their line of work), and Dean surely didn't lie when he said that Cas only deserves the best.

So he finds himself muttering, “Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind going back” and feels rather good about it.

Seems like Dean seriously has an important purchase to make after all.

#destiel #spnstayathome #fanfic #fic #drabble #fluff #established relationship #fanfiction: mine

[madelynsbooknook]

Hiking

Pairing: Harry Holland x Female Reader

Warning: Fluff haha the usual

Summary: You had your own place but you were over at Harry’s pretty much 24/7 so, you basically lived together. You were close friends with Sam, Harrison, and Tom seeing as you saw them all the time as well since you were always there but you were the closest with Harry. Everyone had been stuck in quarantine for far too long and you were starting to lose your minds. Tom was leaving soon to start filming again, Sam was with Elysia most the time and Haz decided to go and stay with his family a bit. It was just you and Harry, which you didn't mind. One day you were bored so you figured... Why not go on a hike?

Main Masterlist

Harry Holland Masterlist

Anyone could tell that they both were completely in love with each other but were too scared to say anything. Everyone in the Holland-Osterfield household has been wishing that one of them would grow a pair and tell the other how they feel, but alas the wishes were nothing but that. 

Sometimes Harry would start to build up the courage to tell her but it always played out like so...

“Y/n... I love.... oranges.” And then he would awkwardly smile and laugh nervously...

There was no hope for the poor boy. He was a ball of nerves and he could never follow through with the plans he made in his head to tell her how he feels. 

She was the same way... Every time she would build up enough confidence to tell her best friend she was in love with him, it played out like this...

“Hey Harry...” It was always when the two were cuddling and watching movies. He'd look down at her and smile a bit. 

“What is it, love?” And lord knows the pet names made her heart melt.

“I... love this movie.” She would always smile trying to cover up the fact that, that was never what she wanted to say.

Harry, being the adorable human he is would always smile down at her and then respond with... “Darling, you say that about every movie.” then she would giggle and he would chuckle and back to watching the movie it was... For Y/n at least... She never noticed but Harry would always admire her when they watched movies all cuddled up together. He found her absolutely adorable and just fell more and more in love with her.

Today, was no different. Harry and Y/n were on the couch watching Black Panther (🥺😔❤️). Y/n was in the middle of building up courage to tell him she loves him... 

“I’m happy you decided not to go with Tom while he films... I always miss you when you are away.” Y/n says while sticking out her bottom lip, pouting towards Harry. She watched as his dimples started to show a bit as he chuckled and shook his head. He tackled her in a hug resting his head on her chest. 

She gently ran her fingers through his hair smiling softly down at her best friend. The movie was playing in the background but she was too caught up in admiring her best friend and gently running her fingers through the curls she’s grown to love so much. 

“Harry...”

“Yes, love?” That damn pet name.

“I...”

“Let me guess... love this movie?” He chuckled looking down at her. “I know, love. You say that about every movie.”

She giggled and lightly smacked his chest. “I do not! Anyways! What I was going to say is, we should go on a hike.” She smiled up at him. Now that was new...

“You out of all people are suggesting we go for a hike rather than watch movies? ...Is this my Y/n or is this a stranger?” He joked. She lightly smacked his chest again giggling a bit.

“Shut up Harold.” She giggled not being able to keep a straight face.

“Hey now, no name calling that’s mean.” He fake pouted. “We should go for a hike, it’ll be fun.” He smiled softly.

He watched as a big smile grew on Y/n’s face causing her dimples to show and he couldn’t help but just admire her... She were so beautiful. “Great! Let’s go!” She said excitedly standing up and rushing off to grab one of Harry’s hoodies... Specifically his pink one. That was her favorite.

It was a coldish day. It wasn’t necessarily cold enough for snow but it certainly wasn’t warm enough to where just shorts and a t-shirt. 

“I see you are back to being a thief and stealing my hoodies.” He chuckled and shook is head while grabbing the car keys and opening the front door. “After you m’lady.” He said with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

“Why thank you kind sir.” She giggled playing along with him as she walked out the door grabbing his hand and dragging him with her. Harry chuckled as he stumbled a bit behind her but eventually found his balance and walked with her hand in hand. 

Y/n forgot she was even holding his hand... It was one of those things where it just feels so normal that you don't even notice it. Harry, on the other hand, was very well aware of her fingers interlaced with his and he couldn't help but smile... Something about having her hand in his just made him happy.

Y/n hadn’t realized her hand was still in Harry’s until she felt small circles being traced on the top of her hand from Harry’s thumb. She smiled a bit to herself, blushing a tiny bit and unconsciously held his hand a tiny bit tighter hoping he wouldn’t notice but he did and it made him smile more than he already was. 

Harry let go of her hand and opened the door to his car for her. “M’lady” He smiled an adorable goofy smile. The same smile Y/n fell in love with sometime ago.

She giggled and curtseyed “Thank you kind sir.” She spoke, playing along, once again, with his goofy act. She got in the car and Harry was quick to get to the drivers side and hop in as well.

Somewhere along the way their hands ended up interlocked once again... Neither of them knew how it happened, it just kind of did.

The car ride to the hiking spot consisted of nothing but silent glances from Y/n to Harry and Harry to Y/n, and of course a few karaoke sessions between the two. The car ride felt like 5 minutes when in reality it had been and hour but Harry and Y/n were too busy enjoying themselves to notice it.

Y/n quickly jumped out of the car as soon as Harry put it in park. During the car ride she took off Harry’s hoodie because there was a bit of awful dancing happening and it got way too hot. The poor girl completely forgot about how cold it was and right has she got out she was shivering. 

Harry watched her jump out of the car without his hoodie on and he already knew she was going to freeze... Sure, today wasn’t that cold, but Y/n tends to get cold all the time and the weather outside was just going to make her more cold. Harry grabbed his pink hoodie and got out of the car looking at her softly while she shivered on the other side of the car.

“Someone’s impatient.” He chuckled walking over to her side of the car and hands her his hoodie. She just stood there smiling softly up at him not putting the hoodie on even though she was freezing. He caressed up and down her arms in attempt to keep her warm while smiling down at the beautiful girl standing in front of him.

“Love, put the hoodie on... You’re freezing.” He said sweetly and helped put the hoodie on her knowing she wasn't going to move and put it on herself. 

Finally, the hoodie was on her correctly and she was a bit warmer, not as warm as she would prefer but at least it was a bit. She snuggled into his hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands and the front over her mouth and nose as she mumbled “I’m cold” with a slight pout showing making Harry’s heart melt.

He wrapped his arms around her pulling her close to his chest and caresses her head as her arms quickly wrap around his torso holding him closer to her. “Better?” He asked sweetly and watched as she nodded while keeping her face buried in his chest causing him to smile. “How about we go start that hike? You’ll warm up the more you move, love” 

That damn pet name.

She nodded once again not moving away from him and leaving her face in his chest. “You’re going to have to let go, darling?” He chuckled while playing with her hair. She leaned into his touch as he did so and it made her smile and she slowly pulled out of the hug grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the trail.

The pair had been hiking for about an hour now and they were having the time of their life. There were laughs and jokes made, it was an enjoyable expierence for both of them. Everyone they had passed by could tell they were in love with each other. It was obvious to absolutely everyone. 

The way he smiled down at her, you could see the love in his eyes. The ways he would sometimes walk a bit slower and just smile watching as you took the lead on the hike. The boy was in love and everyone could see it.

As for Y/n, everyone who passed them saw how her smile grew as Harry began to talk. They all saw how she looked at him with so much love and admiration. They saw as she would randomly look down causing her hair to fall in front of her face hiding the small smile she had plastered on her face. The girl was in love and everyone could see it.

It wasn’t until they got to a beautiful waterfall that they finally stopped hiking. “It’s beautiful...” Harry said smiling softly, looking at Y/n rather than the waterfall. She was facing the waterfall looking at it in awe with a small smile on her face.

“Breathtakingly so...” She said smiling softly watching the waterfall.

“Indeed.” Harry said, referring to her rather than the waterfall.

He wasn't sure where it all came from but he got a wave of confidence and walked up to Y/n and hugged her from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder and smiled softly feeling her lean back into his chest and rest her head against his.

Y/n wasn’t expecting him to hug her like this but she couldn’t deny the fact that she liked it. She smiled softly feeling his chin rest on her shoulder. For her it was one of those moments that you never want to end. It was the same situation for Harry. He was really enjoying this and never wanted it to end.

She placed her hands over his on her stomach and couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off her face. Harry noticed the smile plastered on her face and all it did was make him smile more.

“I’m going to tell you something but you have to promise me you won’t freak out...” He whispered to her, mentally trying to prepare himself for the possibility that this could ruin their friendship.

Y/n turned her head a bit to the side so that way she could see him. They were so close that their noses were touching and their lips just a few centimeters apart, causing her breath to hitch and her palms to become sweaty. 

“I promise...” She whispered back, barely audible because her breath was taken away... She was paying attention to every detail on his face... She found herself getting lost in his eyes. 

“I love you...” He whispered back holding his breath trying to prepare himself for the worst.

She was shocked and didn’t know what to say so instead... She kissed him. It was soft and slow but full of so much love... It was the definition of perfect to both of them. Y/n turned around in his arms without parting and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer and running her fingers through his hair.

Harry’s arms immediately found their place around her waist holding her as close as possible. 

They parted slowly and she opened her eyes slowly looking at Harry with so much love.

“And I love you...” She said with a big smile while resting her forehead on his and closing her eyes. 

“We should go hiking more often.” He chuckled, hugging her close.

She giggled and rested her head on his chest “I agree.” 

#harry holland #harry holland fan fic #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #harry holland one shot #harry holland imagine

[goneseriesanalysis]

Misogyny In Gone

 Spoilers for the Gone series down below - please don’t read if you haven’t read all the books

Also minor spoilers for the monster trilogy

TW: Mention of non-consensual s*xual activity

In one of my first ever posts about Gone, I mentioned that when I first read the series I found myself strangely intrigued by characters such as Caine and Drake, whilst disliking or simply being disinterested in female characters, such as Astrid or Lana. Now, in that post I chalked that up to being a result f the internalised misogyny that a lot of girls experience through the teenage years, but looking back I really don’t think I was giving younger me enough credit. I was reading plenty of other books at the time where I had absolutely no problem relating to the female characters. So that got me thinking as to why my experience was so different with Gone. I asked a question the other day about why @gone-series-orchid​ thought so many younger fans fixate on Drake in particular. And when I was answering the question myself, I found myself realising that it wasn’t so much a connection with that character, but more a disconnect from any female characters - the characters who I would usually relate to.

It made me realise that the issue was not with younger me, but with the writing itself. I began thinking back to various plot points, and it made me realise that women are heavily villainised throughout the series, without them being actual villains. This creates a set-up where you have numerous female character who are subtextually punished in a way that is usually associated with wrongdoers, without actually giving them the autonomy to make the decision to be bad. And so of course 11-14 year old me didn’t like them. And I instead developed an obsession with a sociopathic misogynist, which is really harmful for obvious reasons. Now, I really don’t think mg did this on purpose, but it’s there all the same and so I’m gonna talk about a few things that are irking me as I’m looking back.

Quick disclaimer that I have only re-read Gone so far so I don’t have quotes for evidence as I usually do, and I may even be misremembering some plot points. But I wanted to get my thoughts down while they are still fresh so here goes.

My first thought is that a lot of the villains we see, even the smaller ones, are male. We have Orc for a short amount of time in the first book. We have Caine, Drake and Zil. And even most of the background antagonists are male (Howard, Panda, Mallet, Hank, Turk, Lance, Bug). While you can argue that a lot of these characters are rather one-dimensional and cartoonish, they all have two things in common. Agency and autonomy. They are all able to make their own decisions (with the possible exception of Caine in Hunger). They all have their own clear and distinctive reasons for doing the things that they do and they are all relatively sane - I suppose you could argue against Drake being sane but realistically he is fully capable of making rational decisions when he needs to which would indicate that he is to at least some extent.

And this is something that any female villains just...never have?? And I literally mean all of them. I’m going to go through them one by one.

(Reminder that I’m talking about these characters specifically in their role as an antagonist - some of them do possess agency and autonomy outside of these roles but that is another topic of discussion)

So first we have Diana. Not really a villain, but certainly an antagonist in the first book. So let’s look - Agency?? No. Her role as an antagonist is dependant solely on Caine’s actions, rather than any desires of her own - even the few scenes where she manipulates Jack. She’s doing it to protect herself from Drake...another male villain. Not because of any villainous intentions that she herself has. Autonomy?? No. She is thrown around (literally) by Caine and is forced to go along with HIS schemes, despite actively voicing her unwillingness. She is even forcefully kissed by him - she has no right to self-government and no moral independence for as long as she remains an antagonist.  

Lisa - If I remember correctly, Lisa is the name of the sole (I believe) female member of the human crew. So let’s get straight into it because I barely remember her. Agency?? I don’t think so. Now, I could be wrong here but I’m pretty sure we don’t even get an explanation as to WHY she joined the human crew in the first place. If that is the case then that’s a big fat nope for agency. Autonomy?? Again, not that I can remember. I believe she is mainly treated as a romantic prospect for Zil (even though I’m pretty sure he calls her ugly at some point). I don’t think we are ever introduced to her morals and beliefs in any capacity that is separate from Zil. Sorry Lisa.

Brittany - This is quite possibly the WORST example. Brittany is the girl who was killed in Hunger and then brought back as the Jekyll to Drake’s Hyde. Agency?? No. Brittany’s role as an antagonist happens only after she has become insane. She is separated completely from her original characterisation and instead becomes a puppet for the gaiaphage’s desires. Autonomy?? NO. She is literally attached to Drake, and as the series continues she becomes less and less able to govern her own body until in the monster trilogy she is introduced to us as nothing more than a face in Drake’s chest. That he treats as a pet. I mean what the f*ck. She is also completely separated from her moral compass when she turns insane, even having that and the image of her dead brother used against her. I’m actually fuming just thinking about it. Like yeah, I wonder why little 11 year old me didn’t really like the women in this series.

Nerezza - As I remember Nerezza was some form that the gaiaphage took in Lies in order to manipulate Orsay. Agency?? Somewhat. She had a clear goal that she was working towards but points get taken away because she is not a real person. Interesting how the gaiaphage used a female body instead of a male one. However, if I have misremembered and the gaiaphage was possessing an actual kid then let me take that agency point right away. (I’m pretty sure she wasn’t a real person though). Autonomy?? No. Again, she isn’t actually real. ‘She’ is the temporary human form of a glowing pile of rocks. She does not have the ability to self-govern or have any moral independence. Also minus points for the fact that she was used to take away the agency and autonomy of two other female characters through manipulation. (Orsay directly and Mary indirectly).

Penny - Penny is the moof who has the ability to make people see monsters. Agency?? Somewhat. Penny acts purely for herself when she cements Caine, an act of revenge at that. Her goals are clear and she is established as a villain in a way that is separate from the male villains (we learn that she puts bleach in her sisters cereal). However, it is stated that the reason she does not desert to Perdido Beach in Hunger and Lies is because of her crush on Caine. Ew. It is also never really addressed that she does have a reason for attacking Caine in Fear. It’s played down to her just being crazy. (Notice how Drake and Penny are very similar, but he is sadistic and she is crazy- even though she has more justification for attacking Caine than he does for attacking Diana and Astrid). Have another ew, as a treat. Autonomy?? No. I mean, she literally gets her legs broken by Caine in Lies when he drops her off of a cliff. She is unable to move and has to be bathed by Diana and Caine. I mean why did he need to be there mg. Have another ew, that’s a Hat Trick. She cannot self-govern and her moral independence is undermined by her insanity.

Gaia - Gaia is the child of Caine and Diana, who is possessed by the gaiaphage. Do I really need to continue?? Let’s do it anyway. For fun. Agency?? No. She is possessed. By a glowing pile of alien rocks. Completely wiping away any personality or beliefs she may have grown to have. Autonomy?? No. She is possessed. By a glowing pile of alien rocks. She is also killed because of this. She has no ability to self-govern and no moral independence.

Bonus round - Lana temporarily becomes an antagonist in Hunger while under the control of the gaiaphage. Agency?? No. Autonomy?? You guessed it, no. Because she is being controlled. By a glowing pile of alien rocks.

My second point is that the two main female characters experience their character growth at the hands of men. This is not unusual in media. But it’s annoying as hell. Let’s review:

Astrid – Her main role throughout the series is to be Sam’s love interest, despite her being a much more interesting and developed character. She also changes a large part of herself in order for their relationship to continue (I know that’s not why she undergoes the change, but from a storytelling perspective it needed to happen for them to remain together because of how mg wrote them) and Sam is just fine as he is, for some reason. The character development that she goes through in between Plague and Fear is not only directly linked with LP but is also, for some reason, a secret. We, as a reader, are not allowed to see it. She also experiences a lot of character growth due to her fear of Drake and what it takes for her to overcome that. Another man. Yay. I know there is a lot more nuance to it than this but you get my point.

Diana – Again, her main purpose is to be Caine’s love interest. And she is yet another victim of Drake’s sick obsession. I’m not really going to go into detail with this one because Diana’s whole character is a result of the attraction men have to her and the way that they treat her because of this. I talk more on this is my analysis of Diana is you are interested but if I go into it here then I’ll probably cry.

Some bonus characters in this category include:

Lana – Big fat glowing pile of rocks (it’s genderless, I know, but I’m counting it), Quinn, Sanjit

Penny – Caine

Taylor – Her character doesn’t really rely on a man but it does rely on other characters (and mg) treating her like a sl*t for daring to have an attraction to one

And point number three: Women having sex = bad??

Again, not uncommon in media. But boy does it get on my nerves. For some reason women having sex or exploring their sexuality in the gone series seems to immediately have negative connotations. Now, I’m not sure whether this was intentional or not, but I do know that the same subtext is not there for the male characters. I’m going to preface this by saying I’m not overly fond of any of the kids having sex. Because, you know, they’re kids, and as an 18yr old re-reading the series, it makes me pretty uncomfy. But for any 14 year old girls reading this series, the take-away is immediately that girls exploring their sexuality is bad and wrong and punishable and I hate that. Because it’s just not true. So let’s begin.

I’m going to start by talking about Taylor. Taylor doesn’t actually canonically have sex as far as I can remember, but as I mentioned before, she is treated as a sl*t pretty much from the get go. And why?? Because she is open about the fact that she finds Sam attractive. Which is NOT a bad thing. It’s good to be open about these things, as long as you aren’t making a move on anyone who is already in a relationship then there is nothing wrong with voicing an attraction. And she doesn’t make a move. He does. And when he pulls away?? She accepts it. She doesn’t shout or get upset. She accepts that he is drunk and that he didn’t mean it and she moves on, with the exception of a few jokes. And that is a good reaction to that situation. Yet she is constantly villainised both by characters in the text and subtextually and I hate it.

Penny – Again, Penny doesn’t actually have sex within the story, and I’m not going to talk about her crush on Caine because I already discussed my issue with that. But there is one bit that makes me go absolutely feral. We learn in Fear that she uses her powers to kiss Turk whilst making herself look like Diana (she also does this with Howards although it is never stated who she turns into with him), and this is not presented as an immoral thing to do?? Which it very much is. She is literally commodifying Diana’s body – without Diana’s consent, and mg didn’t think to mention that that is not an ok thing to do?? Like she is SELLING Diana’s body for I can’t even remember what. And this infuriates me so much more because of how Diana is treated for consensually having sex within the series. She can’t even escape from being sexualised when she isn’t around I just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I’m crying now over the horrific way in which Diana is treated ugh.

Brianna – Ok so Brianna is the final one on this list who doesn’t actually have sex within the series. My issue here is how Brianna is treated for her reaction to Dekka’s confession of love. Now, as I have said I haven’t re-read Plague or Fear yet so I’m not sure if Brianna is villainised for this within the text, or if I’ve just seen some fans do it. But. She is a CHILD. She is 12. And someone she looked up to as a sister just told her that she is in love with her. Of course she is going to be confused. She isn’t homophobic – she is a literal child who probably has no real notion yet of her own sexuality. Also, she is allowed to not be attracted to someone. And she is allowed to set boundaries – that is a very healthy things to do. Most women have been in a situation where a man we have considered to be a friend has told us that he has romantic feelings towards us. We’ve all experienced that sinking feeling. This is the exact same situation. And I hate the idea of anyone reading this series to think that they have to reciprocate feelings just because someone is nice to them. Also just to be clear, this is not a criticism of Dekka. Dekka was also a child, who was dying – and she had every right to tell the person that she loved just that. My issue is with the way that I’ve seen Brianna be villainised for her reaction. I love them both and they both deserve the world.

Astrid – Ok so Astrid is the first character on this list who has sex within the series. And I really wished she hadn’t. Or rather, if it had to happen, I wish it had happened under different circumstances. Again. My ideal situation when reading a book about fifteen year olds is that none of them have sex, but that doesn’t happen with Gone so I’m going to work with what I have. A lot of tension in Sam and Astrid’s relationship comes from the fact that Astrid refuses to have sex with Sam, which is a perfectly normal and healthy boundary for a 15 year old to set. But Sam, because he is a whiny little boy with the emotional capacity of a crusty tissue is not ok with this as so seems to develop a victim complex. Now this in itself is not outside the realms of possibility, and it could have even been a good way to add some intrigue to Sam’s character – if mg had explicitly stated that Sam’s reaction was not ok. But he doesn’t. And so Astrid suddenly becomes a prude. The Ice Queen. Now Astrid’s reasoning for not wanting to have sex is because (if I remember correctly) it doesn’t tie in with her faith. She seems to associate her morality with her ‘purity’. This, again, is flawed thinking. Having sex doesn’t make you a bad person just as abstaining from sex doesn’t make you a good person. But mg doesn’t mention that this thinking is flawed, just that her not having sex with Sam is. Which only reinforces the idea that women having sex = bad, unless it is for the benefit of a man. Again, I’m not sure if this was intentional or not but it’s sooo harmful. And to make matters worse, it is only when Astrid becomes an Atheist that she finally decides to have sex. And that just makes me want to scream. Do you know what would have been a good character arc?? Astrid retaining her faith but deciding that she wants to have sex with Sam because she wants to and because she realises that having sex does not make her any less ‘pure’ – or good if you will. Do you know what also would have been a good character arc?? Astrid becoming an Atheist for reasons but still deciding to not have sex with Sam because she isn’t ready yet and having sex is not indicative of moral or religious beliefs. But it just feels like Astrid having sex was more for Sam’s benefit than hers instead.

Diana – Ok so Diana is a big one. Of course she has consensual sex on the island with Caine (even though he does threaten to have it be non-consensual which I just hate so much) and then immediately afterwards becomes pregnant with the Gone series version of the anti-Christ. So Penny literally selling Diana’s body?? Yep that’s fine. Diana choosing to have sex with a boy she ‘loves’ because she wants to?? Bad. Wrong. You must be punished. It just reinforces the narrative that women having sex is bad. Especially when there are little to no consequences for the boys involved. Again, Diana’s characterisation is reliant upon her sexualisation from male characters so it’s hard to separate her from that, but if you want a more in-depth explanation I talk about it in my Diana post.

Connie – And finally we have Connie. The mother of Sam and Caine. Now Connie isn’t exactly shown as bad for having sex – but she is the only grown woman whose sexual past is talked about within the series and she also happens to be an adulterer. Which isn’t amazing. I don’t have too much to say about Connie other than she is presented in an overtly negative light, mostly from Sam, for a situation that happened over 15 years ago. She tried her best. I don’t remember her much but I wanted to mention her because she deserves some justice. Please feel free anyone if you have more to add.

Well that concludes my thoughts on misogyny in the Gone series. I feel like I got slowly more aggressive as this went on so I apologise for that but I had a sudden epiphany and had to write all my thoughts down immediately. I still love the Gone series so much but I had honestly never thought about these things before and it’s now quarter to 5 in the am. I just want to add a quick note that this is a Gone blog but it is also a safe space for women. I love you all and please feel free to critique anything I have said or to add onto it, I would genuinely love to hear your thoughts on this. – And that goes for anyone. Thank you so much for reading :)

#the gone series

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

1. Freak Accident

Masterlist (Tatum Riley x Fem! Reader, slight!Stu Macher x Reader)

Author’s Note: This story happens a year before the first murders of Woodsboro.

"Come on, (Y/N)!" You can hear how much Tatum is pouting just by listening to her voice on the phone, Stu's party seeming to only get wilder by how loud the music and the talking is in the background. "Just come by for a little hour... Your house is just on the other side of the forest, it won't take you long to walk... and who cares about that little stupid Chem test we have on Monday? You have all weekend to study!"

"I care, Tatum." You give out a giggle, continuing to do your revision homework while speaking with her. "And so does Sidney. So why aren't you harassing her to come, huh?"

"Hum, because there's no way she can sneak out with both her parents at home? It's board game nights, remember?" You can't help but playfully shake your head at that, another voice soon picking up in the background.

"Hey, Tatum! Who you're talking to? You're gonna need to pay part of the phone bill if you don't hang up soon!"

You recognize Stu's voice immediately, your grin stretching out at your childhood friend's next words. "Shut up, Stu! I'm trying to convince (Y/N) to come!"

You seem to be able to hear a gasp despite the party going, Tatum giving out a loud "Hey!" while the phone seems to be shoved around.

"Hey there, (Y/N)." You can't stop the giggle escape your throat when you hear the flirty tone in Stu's voice, the blond seeming a little louder than usual, probably because of all the alcohol in his system. "When are you gonna show your pretty face around here so we can finally start this party?"

"Sounds to me that the party's already started, Stu." You stop writing down your answers on your piece of paper, playing around with your own pen instead. "I wouldn't wanna ruin your fun."

"Eeey, what are you talking about? Everyone wants you here! Hey, Billy! Hey!" You slightly put the phone away from your ear when he starts screaming, having probably seen his best friend walking around his house. "(Y/N) is on the phone! Do you want her to come here...? Okay, you can't see him, but-" He lowers the volume of his voice when he speaks to you, his next words making you giggle. "*-he really wants you here. Like Tatum and I really want you here. Randy probably wants you here too-"

"Okay, you talked enough, Stu!" Tatum's voice comes back on, a groan escaping her throat as you can hear Stu's laugh slowly fading away into the music. "Jesus, that boy's get way too excited whenever I mention you."

Ever since Stu and Casey broke up, the blond has been all over you, always flirting and putting an arm around your shoulders playfully. Tatum always rolls her eyes whenever it happens, but you think the behavior is cute.

"So, what's it gonna be?" Tatum seems a little impatient now, though you can hear her smiling. "Are you coming or not?"

You look towards the clock on the wall to see that it's already nine-thirty PM,  which means that if you really wanted, you could go for a quick hour or two before hitting the sheets. "Fine, I'll-" Loud knocks at the entrance door shuts you up, a confused frown appearing on your face. "Hold on, someone's knocking."

"That's weird." Tatum shorts when she says those words, your body standing up from one of the kitchen chairs. "Do you think your mom forgot her keys again?"

"She's doing the night shift tonight, she's not gonna be back until five am." The knocks repeat, more violently this time, soon followed by the ringing of the bell. "Hold on, I'm gonna go check who it is."

"But you're coming to the party after, right?"

"I'll call you back on that." You hang up before she can say anything back, your heart getting heavier with each step you're taking towards the entrance door. You slowly gulp in your saliva when you notice a tall dark figure through the window, not being able to see any features. It's when you're close enough that you recognize your mother's ex-boyfriend, Sam, standing there with what seems to be a frustrated expression. Carefully, you slightly open the door to be able to look at him better, wondering if he's bitter after your mom left him two weeks ago.

"(Y/N), hi." His expression changes to something more friendly when he sees you, but you can't help the bad feeling swirling inside your stomach when you notice the darkness in his eyes. "Is your mom home?"

Your mouth suddenly turns dry, the tension making you nervous. "No... She's working."

"Ah, what a shame." His smile hardens, sending alarms into your head. "I wanted to ask her if I could get some of my things back... Do you mind if I come in and look for them?"

You specifically remember your mom throwing all of his stuff in the front yard when she kicked him out of the house two weeks ago, ending their five months relationship after she learned that he was cheating on her.

"I..." You hesitate, all of your instincts telling you to shut the door. "I'd prefer not." 

You remember how miserable your mom was when she was with him, hearing all kinds of bad things about him around town, especially from Tatum's brother. And you're not sure what he's going to do if you let him in.

"Maybe you should come back during the day, it's pretty late-"

"No-" His hand grips the door right when you were about to close it, a scream escaping your mouth as you step back in fear when he suddenly swings it open and gives you one of the most terrifying smiles you've ever seen. "It'll only take a minute."

You continue to step back when he eagerly walks further into the house, the panic in your heart rising. "Please leave the house-"

"Or what?" He chuckles darkly, tilting his head down at you. "You're gonna call the police-"

You dash towards the kitchen just as he says these words, only hoping that you can manage to grab the phone you left on the table before you can make a run for it. You barely hear a "come back here, bitch!" and heavy footsteps following you as the pounding of your heart drowns most of the noise around, your hands shakily picking up the phone. You have to try a few times before you finally manage to do it, about to dash towards the living room exit when a hand suddenly grabs your hair. You scream, letting go of the phone to try and make him let go, but he only tightens his grip and violently tanks you around.

"What do you think you were doing, huh? Huh?!" You let out a painful whimper, a groan of anger escaping his throat. "I just want my fucking things."

You yelp when he suddenly makes you walk towards the couch, roughly sitting you down on it while he still holds onto your head.

"Now, you're gonna stay here and let me roam around in peace... If not, well..." He reveals his teeth in a dark grin. "... Let's be honest, you don't wanna know what's gonna happen to you if you don't listen to me, sweetheart."

Tears fill up your eyes after he gently pats your cheek, watching him walk towards the kitchen behind you before you carefully listen to what he's doing. You slightly jump up when he roughly opens a few cupboards, his hands rummaging inside of then as he seems to be mumbling 'where the fuck is it?' and 'where did this bitch put it?'. It looks like your mom has hidden something of his, and you don't think he's gonna leave unless he finds what he's looking for.

You try to control your loud breathing as your mind finds every single possible outcome of this situation. You can’t run towards the glass door in the living room: it's locked and it'll take you too much time to open it. You can't move quickly enough to pick up the phone and call someone, he'll just yank it away from your hands again, possibly doing something worse. Your only option is to try to run towards the entrance door, still wide open, then run through the woods towards Stu's house to get some help. There's no way he can do anything to you if your hiding in a party full of people, and you certainly don't want to stay here and wait to see if he'll use you to give a message to your mom.

You hear him mumble another 'shit!', slightly louder this time. You slowly breathe out when you hear him walk towards the upper end of the kitchen, counting down the seconds in your head and waiting for him to open one of the drawers.

When he does, you don't hesitate one second to dash.

"Hey!" The fear rise when he suddenly screams, starting to panic when you hear his footsteps catching up faster than you anticipated. "Hey! I told you to stay still!"

He grabs the back of your shirt just as you were about to run out of the door, screaming at him to let you go when he wraps his arms around you to shank you back in the house. You fight to get out of his grip, giving him difficulties to hold onto you, but he's way stronger than you, and he soon manages to make you stand still.

"I never liked you, (Y/N)." You grind your teeth in fear when he says those words in your ear, feeling the tears fall down on your face. "Do you think your mom's gonna miss you after you disappear?"

The thought of him killing you and dropping you somewhere in the woods, only to never be found, terrifies you in your deepest core. He seems to start chuckling when he notices your cries getting louder, your body reacting before you can even tell it what to do. You feel your feet suddenly crashing down against his as hard as you can, the man letting out a yelp of pain. It is soon followed by another when you use your elbow to kick his stomach to release yourself, Sam stepping back when you do it a second time.

"You..." You watch him hold onto his stomach with a growl, his eyes looking at you with a deadly fire in them. "... fucking bitch!"

You grab the entrance door's handle with one hand, thinking of violently closing it behind you once you get outside. He seems to immediately know what you're up to. He’s about to yank it wide open before you get a chance to do it, but you  swing the door towards him at full blast, hitting his head. You barely hear him groan as he wumbles backwards, stopping in your tracks once you see him trip and hit his head against the corner of the entrance's table. You watch him fall on the ground without even a yelp coming out of his throat, his body going completely still as silence falls all around. Terrified, you wait to see if he's going to stand up, something stopping you from leaving him there, only to watch him stay still on the floor for a few minutes without moving an inch.

"... Sam...?" You wait for him to respond, carefully taking a step back in when he doesn't. "... Sam-"

You shut up when you notice blood pouring out from the back of his head, slowly staring to form a puddle on the floor as his dead eyes stare at the wall. You can't help but let out a horrified scream, falling into your knees next to him.

"No, no, no, no-" you approach trembling hands towards his neck, fully crying as you try to feel a pulse. "No, no, please... Please, don't be dead, you can't be dead-"

You scream and jump up when the phone suddenly rings, your hands shutting your mouth to try to silence your own loud breathing. Slowly, without even controlling yourself, you stand up, trying to ignore his blood pouring down on your jeans. Using one of your hands to close the door behind you, you feel like the phone's ring is taunting you, your breathing barely coming in and out as you walk towards the living room. You don't notice leaving bloody footsteps all over the wooden floors, feeling like hours have spent when you finally pick up the phone from the living room's ground.

You don't know how you manage to answer it.

"What the heck, (Y/N)!" You grab onto the phone tightly when you hear Tatum's voice, the sound of it alone with the party in the background being the only comforting thing right now. "If you don't wanna come, just say so, don't leave me hanging!"

"Tatum..." Your voice cracks as you say her name, barely being able to talk with your cries interrupting almost every one of your words. "Tatum, something... something bad happened...!"

"Why do you sound so worried?" You can discern slight worry in her tone, though you can tell that she's still annoyed. "What happened?"

"It's... It's Sam, he..."

"Wait..." Her voice ses to get a little louder, though it's not enough to cover the music in the background. "Was that fucker the one knocking at your door?"

"Tatum... I..." You slowly walk back towards the entrance hallway, dreadfully looking at the man's dead body on the floor. "He's... He's dead...!*"

"... What?"

"I killed him...!" You feel like you're gonna stop breathing soon, your chest contracting so much that you fear it's gonna explode. "I killed Sam...!"

#scream #scream imagine #scream imagines #scream x reader #scream series #tatum riley #tatum riley imagine #tatum riley imagines #tatum riley x reader #imagine #imagines #x reader #reader insert #series #masterlist #freak accident

[440mxs-wife]

That One Night

Pairing: Dean x Reader

You were in the library, taking advantage of the silence to dive into the next chapter of your favorite book. You reached for your cup of orange cinnamon tea on the table behind you. The cup was almost to your lips when you heard the bunker door fly open. You nearly spilled your drink in your haste to return the cup to the small table next to your chair. Heavy boots clomped down the stairs and you bolted from your chair to greet them.

"Hey, you guys are home early! I take it things went well?" you asked as you stepped in for a welcome-home hug.

"We came, we saw, we sliced off their heads," Dean quipped. "Seriously, though, if you hadn't called with that last minute bit of info, this would've gone very differently. Thank you, sweetheart," he said as he kissed your temple. "You saved our asses tonight."

You felt your cheeks grow warm at hearing Dean's praise. "Let's not exaggerate things, Dean. You guys have been in much tougher situations way before I came along. You survived just fine," you reminded him.

"Maybe, but it's a lot easier, now that we have the best damn research artist in the hunting world," Dean replied. "I'm gonna go take a shower, then we're headed out for a drink. You wanna join us?" he asked you.

"Nah, you guys go ahead. You deserve to celebrate, since you did all the hard work," you answered.

You had your reasons for not always going to the bar. Usually, you sat in the background while Sam and Dean traded stories with other hunters. From time to time, you went up to the bar to pick up another round, or some snacks. Eventually, the boys would each find a warm body to keep them company. Then, you were left to entertain yourself, at least until someone wanted to go home.

"Aw, come on, sweetheart. What you did was just as important. You deserve to have a little fun, too. Please?" Dean pleaded.

You rolled your eyes in mock annoyance. "Fine. While you're in the shower, I'll get changed," you relented with a smile. You decided to dress up a little, so you changed into your new pair of faded blue jeans with decorated back pockets. A sparkly red scoop-neck tank top, black-and-white flannel shirt and your red Converse shoes completed the outfit.

When you heard the shower turn off, you knew you only had about ten minutes before it was time to leave. You fluffed and sprayed your hair to hold it in place, and kept your makeup to a minimum.

"Last one to the garage buys the first round!" Dean shouted. There was no sense in running, since you had decided you were going to buy the first round anyway. You climbed into the back seat of the Impala, and headed to town.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You'd met the Winchesters several years ago on a particularly nasty ghoul hunt, after which you moved into the bunker. Since you took up residence in the bunker, your role in the hunting world changed. It became less about hunting and more about taking care of things on the home front. You covered the research, kept the boys well-fed and patched up the injuries.

Because of your love for books on any and all subjects, you and Sam quickly became best friends. You liked a lot of the same movies, and told some of the same jokes. You knew every piece of Star Trek trivia, while Sam gave you a run for your money on Star Wars knowledge. On long car rides, you loved to challenge each other with random facts about your favored series.

But Dean? Well....Dean was different. Your dreams were filled with visions of his sexy green eyes gazing at you like you were the only woman in the world. His muscular arms that you longed to have wrapped around you like a warm blanket, keeping you safe. That deep, husky voice of his that nearly melted you every time you heard him call you "sweetheart".

You had no idea when you first noticed your feelings towards Dean were starting to grow. They had almost reached a point to where you were afraid that one day you'd accidentally let it slip. Then you knew you'd hear the inevitable "I love you, but just as a friend" speech. After that, life at the bunker would be forever changed. So you dealt with it the only way you knew how. You pushed your feelings down, ignored them and talked yourself out of having them altogether.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As usual, most of the talk around the table was about hunting. What wasn't usual was that for some reason, Dean seemed to be paying extra attention to you tonight. He wasn't letting you just sit back and let everyone else talk. He had his arm around your shoulder, sometimes running slow, lazy circles on it, causing goosebumps to form. From time to time, he would lean over and whisper in your ear to tell you some smart-ass remark or a joke.

You looked around the bar and there certainly was no shortage of women for Dean to choose from to keep him company. It made you wonder why he was focusing all of his attention on you tonight. Some of the women would slowly walk by the table, trying to catch Dean's eye, but he didn't seem to care. As they left, the women mostly glared at you, like you didn't belong with Dean.

Jerry, one of the other hunters at the table was in the middle of a story when a blonde and her red-headed friend stopped by the table. "Hey, there handsome," the blonde purred. "Wanna dance?" she asked Dean.

"What a great idea," Dean said as he exited the booth. His eyes never leaving yours, he held out his hand. "Shall we, sweetheart?" he grinned, leaving the blonde to pick up her jaw from the floor.

"I...I...sure, Dean," you stammered. You slid out of the booth and took his hand. When you stood up, you were close enough to Dean that your noses nearly touched.

"After you, darlin'," Dean said. His hand moved from holding yours to the small of your back to guide you to the dance floor, where the next song was a slow one. Dean smiled as he took your hands and brought them up to clasp them behind his neck. Then he settled his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to his chest, swaying you both to the music.

As the song ended, Dean pulled back from you a little, a soft smile on his plump, kissable lips. "Thanks for the dance, sweetheart," he said softly. He leaned in and as he gave you a lingering kiss on the cheek, you closed your eyes in contentment.

"Anytime, Dean," you whispered.

"Want to head back to the table for another drink?" he asked.

"I will in a minute," you answered. A puzzled look crossed his face. "Restroom," you giggled, as he relaxed a bit.

Still tingling from the dance and what happened after, you had a bit of a spring in your step as you headed for the restroom. Maybe there's hope after all, you thought. Maybe it isn't just me feeling this way. You entered the restroom and closed the stall door behind you.

Suddenly the door burst open and slammed against the wall behind it. Somebody's pissed, you thought.

"Joanie, calm down!" you heard.

"Calm down?!? Shelly, how the hell can I calm down?!? I ask him to dance and he completely ignores me!!" Joanie seethed. "And for what?? That stupid, pathetic nerd-girl who never says anything, just fetches drinks for them all night!"

You could see through the space in the stall doorframe that "Joanie" was the blonde from earlier who stopped by your table. "Shelly" was her red-headed friend.

"What could he possibly see in her?" Joanie continued. "She's not pretty, a boring techno-geek who probably runs around quoting 'Star Trek' all the time," she finished.

"Well, he has been drinking, or maybe he felt sorry for her because she doesn't have a boyfriend," suggested Shelly.

"That has to be it. Because there's no way he'd go for someone like her when he could have someone like me. Can I borrow your lipstick? I'm going to go back out there and do something about this. I need to 'freshen' up before I go back out there, though," she giggled.

Tears sprang to your eyes at what they were saying about you. You knew you didn't deserve anything they said about you, but still their words hit a little close to home. Worse, it got you thinking about why Dean was paying extra attention to you tonight. What if they were right? That he was drunk and didn't know what he was doing? Or worse, that he felt sorry for you?

You washed your hands and checked your face before exiting the restroom. You knew your eyes were probably still red, but in the dim lighting of the bar, you thought no one should notice.

When you got back to your table, you noticed that your partially finished drink from earlier was still there. However, everyone else had moved to the back corner where the pool table was. Oh, good. Maybe a game of 8-ball will take my mind off of things, you thought.

You picked up your drink to finish it off. Before the liquid could touch your lips, you heard the same laughter as you did in the restroom. You lowered the glass and your eyes traveled over to the corner. There for all to see was Dean up behind Joanie, helping her line up a shot.

You gasped at the sight before you, final confirmation of Dean's true feelings about you. Joanie must have heard you or had otherwise known you were there. Just before she made her shot, she looked up at you and gave you a knowing smirk. When the ball went into the pocket, she squealed, jumped into Dean's arms and locked lips with him.

Not waiting around to see what came next, you turned on your heel and headed for the back door. The bar had a patio area for additional seating, but it was empty tonight. You climbed up on one of the picnic tables to sit on top as your feet rested on the bench seat. Your hands covered your face as tears streamed down your cheeks.

The sound of flapping wings caught your attention and you turned to see Castiel had appeared, his trenchcoat billowing behind him. You wiped your tears and tried to regain your composure. "Hey, Cas. What are you doing here? Do you need something? Is everything okay?" You stopped because you realized you were rambling a bit.

"Good evening. No, I don't need anything, but I don't think everything is okay with you. Am I right?" he asked.

You turned to look in his ocean-blue eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. "Yeah, you're right, it's not okay with me right now. Can you please take me back to the bunker?" you asked.

"Shouldn't you tell Sam and Dean that you're going home?" Cas asked.

"They'll figure it out when I don't come back from the restroom. Besides, I saw them in the corner at the pool table. They're having plenty of fun without me," you muttered.

In the blink of an eye, you were back in your room, with Cas standing next to you. "Thank you, Cas. I'll be all right for now," you remarked.

"Are you sure? I'm here if you want to talk about anything," he offered.

"I really don't, Cas. I'm going to take a shower then go to bed. Goodnight," you said with a yawn. With a flapping of wings, Castiel was gone.

You gathered your robe and your towel then headed for the showers. The rushing hot water from the shower was doing little to wash away the thoughts about what happened earlier. You put your hair up in your towel and walked back to your bedroom to dry off. After you changed into some pajamas, you locked the door and turned off your light to try and get some sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So, you didn't see where she went?" Dean asked. He and Sam were returning from the bar, worried about what may have happened to you.

"Dude, you took her out on the dance floor, and that's the last time I saw her. I was too busy on my phone looking for cases to see anything else," Sam replied.

"Dammit! Where could she be? Last place I saw her was after the dance, then she went to the restroom. I thought for sure she'd come back and we could pick up right where we left off," he remarked. "We were having such a good time tonight, too," he muttered.

"I noticed you were getting a little cozy with her tonight," Sam smirked. "If you were having such a good time, what were you doing with that blonde chick, um, Joanie was it?" he asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's her. Practically threw herself at me, which, for a woman to do normally isn't a problem. But, this time it felt....wrong, like I was betraying someone," he replied.

He explained to Sam that Joanie had stopped by the table earlier and asked him to dance. He mentioned that he had turned her down and asked you to dance instead.

"Joanie's had her eye on you for months now and hasn't really let up at all. Then you choose someone else to dance with? I bet she was pissed," Sam observed.

Dean said that before you could come back from the bathroom, Joanie dragged him over to the pool table to play. He told Sam that it was his intention to play a game with you, not Joanie.

"Joanie asked me to show her how to make this one shot, so I did. Then she kissed me and afterwards, she asked me if I wanted to go home with her. I told her no, and she went ballistic. Her friend, Shelly, had to drag her out of there, kicking and screaming," he chuckled at the memory.

A little later, Dean pulled the Impala into her parking space in the bunker garage. He raced down the spiral staircase, noticing that all the lights were off but one. When he got to your bedroom door, he tested the knob only to find that it was locked. Dean gently knocked and softly called your name. He didn't hear anything or see any light under your door, so he figured you were sleeping. He turned and went back down the hall to his own room, hoping to get some sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you got up early to make breakfast. After last night, you wanted to minimize your chances of running into Dean, at least for the moment. Being in the same room with him was bound to be awkward for awhile. You decided to do your best to keep it on a friendly level, no matter how much you wanted it to be more.

After you finished the last batch of pancakes, you covered them with aluminum foil to keep them and the bacon warm. At that moment, Sam came in from his morning run and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Hey, what happened to you last night? We were looking all over for you," he remarked, taking a long pull on the bottle.

"What do you mean?" you replied, your eyes never leaving the task at hand.

"Dean said you were in the restroom, then you never came back to the table. What's up?" Sam persisted.

"Nothing's 'up', Sam. I did come back to the table. I was going to finish my drink, realized it was all watered down and left it sitting there. I saw you all in the corner by the pool table, but I started feeling tired. I went out back for some air, Cas showed up and I asked him to take me home," you finished.

"Why didn't you let one of us know where you were? Dean was worried about you when you didn't come back from the restroom. If you were tired, we would've taken you home," Sam said pointedly.

"You all looked like you were having enough fun over there without me, and I didn't want to intrude. Besides, it looked like Dean was keeping himself occupied anyway," you muttered. You put a couple of pancakes on a plate for yourself and snagged some bacon, leaving the bulk of it for Dean. "I'm going to my room for a while. Later, Sam," you said as you exited the kitchen.

You saw Dean walking towards the kitchen and ducked into the library just in time to escape his radar. Guilt crept in that you were actively trying to avoid him, but you felt it would be better for you both in the long run.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A short time later, Dean stumbled into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in all different directions and his eyes not quite focused. He saw the plate of bacon and pancakes and was on instant alert. "She made breakfast? Where is she now?" he asked.

"She just left, took a plate to her room. She looked tired, eyes were kind of red," Sam explained. He filled a plate and took a seat opposite his brother at the table.

Dean fixed himself a plate of pancakes and mostly bacon. He wanted to talk to you about what happened last night and ask why you didn't come back to the table. He decided that after breakfast, he was going to talk to you and make sure you were okay.

Last night when he couldn't sleep, Dean thought back on the events of the evening. When you said you would go out to the bar, he couldn't believe his luck. He noticed that in the few times when you did join them at the bar, you tended to keep to yourself, not really saying much. Dean wished you felt more comfortable in the group, that you would open up a little more.

When you came out wearing that sparkly red tank top, his mouth ran dry and his heart started racing. It was his favorite color on you, because it reminded him how sassy you were when you wanted to be. He loved your sense of humor, injecting hilarious one-liners into the conversation when no one was prepared.

Dean also knew that beneath your quiet exterior was a woman of genuine caring and pure passion. That's the layer he wanted to get to, and learn more about. Thus, he made it his mission that night to show you that you belonged in the group, even if you didn't always feel that way.

As the night continued, he found himself drawn towards you and really seeing you, maybe for the first time. He thought about how your eyes flash when you and Sam get into your "Star Trek vs. Star Wars" debates. The way your mouth scrunches up when you're researching for a case. Your soft and silky locks that he can't wait to run his hands through or use to tug you closer to him.

The more he noticed about you, the more it made him want to focus more of his attention on you. To him, it felt natural for him to put his arm around your shoulder and keep you close. His fingers tracing patterns over your skin could almost be considered possessive. Kind of like his way of telling other men to back off, that you were his. Having you in his arms as you danced together, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace, and he never wanted to let go.

When Joanie was hanging all over him, it was different. It felt empty and superficial. When she kissed him, Dean didn't feel that connection, that spark the way he did with you. He couldn't wait to break away from her lips and get as far away from her as possible. He realized now who he felt like he was betraying when Joanie was all over him. She wasn't you.

Dean finished his breakfast and put his plate in the sink. He started to walk back to his bedroom when he saw you in the library, reading in your favorite chair. Well, you had a book open in your lap and you were sitting in your chair, but your eyes were doing anything but reading.

As Dean approached you, he could see the redness in your eyes. If he didn't know any better, he would say that you were tired, but he knew that you'd been crying. He was filled with this need to find out who had hurt you and to make sure it didn't happen again.

"Hey," he said softly as he rested his hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

Mask in place, you slowly turned to face Dean. "Hey, Dean. What's up? Is there something I can help you with? Some case you need researched?" you asked.

Dean knelt down next to your chair and searched your face for some clue as to what happened last night. "No, no, nothing like that. No cases right now, you can relax. Are you okay? You seem a little upset about something," he remarked.

You fought to keep your emotions under control and hoped that the battle wasn't showing in your face. "I'm fine, a little tired maybe, but I'm fine," you tried to assure him.

"If you're sure," he murmured, though not quite convinced. "Hey, what happened to you last night? You said you were going to the restroom, then I thought you were coming back," he stated.

You slammed your book closed and abruptly rose from your chair. "I already explained this to Sam. I went back to the table for my drink, but you all were off in the corner by the pool table. About that time, I was feeling tired, so I went out back to get some air. Cas showed up and I asked him to bring me home. End of story," you spat out in a rare flash of anger.

As you started to walk away, Dean quickly stood up, staring after you. He raced to catch up to you before you could leave the library. "Wait a minute. If you saw us over by the pool table, why didn't you come back over? I thought we were having a good time together," he persisted.

"We were, Dean. It was one of the best nights I've had out with you guys in a long time. Until...." you broke off, tears threatening.

Dean reached out and took your hand. "Until what, darlin'?" he asked softly.

You tore your hand from his. "Until I saw you and Joanie locking lips in the corner. After what she said about me in the restroom...." You shook your head. "You know what? I've got no right to say who you hook up with, who you choose to be with. I don't know what I was thinking," you muttered as you started walking towards your room.

"Whoa, wait a minute. What did she say about you? Because I'll guarantee you it's not true," he demanded, blocking the entrance to your room.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself. "She said I was a 'stupid, pathetic nerd-girl, a boring techno-geek who runs around quoting Star Trek all day'," you replied. "She said there was no way you'd go for someone like me when you could have someone like her," you whispered.

"Oh, sweetheart...." Dean whispered, his heart aching for how you must have felt.

"I don't know what's worse, that she said all that, or that I'm inclined to believe her," you started. "I wasn't sure why you were paying so much attention to me last night, when usually you're otherwise occupied.

"But, I do know that I liked how you made me feel, especially when we were dancing. Even if it was for just one night," you admitted softly, your eyes cast downward.

Dean hooked his finger under your chin to tilt your head up so he could gaze into your eyes. "Who said it was for just one night? When you said 'yes' to coming out with us last night, I was so excited, darlin'. I know you don't come out with us often, so I wanted to make it special for you.

"As the night went on, I noticed how much I was enjoying just being with you. It was fun to whisper jokes and comments in your cute little ear, because it let me get even closer to you. To have my arm around you felt like the most natural thing in the world, like you belonged there. Especially true when we were dancing," he grinned, causing you to giggle a bit.

"Dean, when I saw you kiss Joanie, I thought I had read too much into what was going on between us. That you didn't mean it, that she was more like what you wanted. It was one of the reasons why I didn't go over to the pool table. I figured that if you were happy with her, I was going to stay out of the way," you explained.

"Darlin', I swear, that was all her, the kissing part. Anyway, I couldn't kiss back," Dean confessed. "One, I didn't feel anything, there was no connection. And two, I felt like I was somehow being unfaithful to someone....well, to you.

"I couldn't sleep last night because I was trying to figure out how I feel about you. Sweetheart, I am in love with you. You are a compassionate, selfless and intelligent woman who has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. That's what makes you beautiful to me. Although I must say, you are smokin' hot on the outside, too," he remarked, waggling his eyebrows.

"I am in love with you, too. Have been for a long time, just never had the courage to say it. You are one in a million, Dean Winchester. You are a smart and caring man, who puts others before himself and who's more than a little bit gorgeous," you giggled. "You are worthy of all the love this world has to give, and I am more than happy to give my heart to you," you finished softly.

Dean licked his lips and reached up with his hand to cup your cheek, while you moved in to close the gap between you. Like two magnets, your lips crashed into each other as what started as a spark soon built into a raging bonfire.

Your tongue swept across Dean's bottom lip to request access, which he gladly granted with a smile. As you explored each others' mouths, you could taste the sweetness of the maple syrup from the morning's pancakes with the salt from the bacon. Your hand slid up to cup his cheek, gently caressing it with your thumb.

Determined to leave no territory untouched, Dean dropped a trail of feather-light kisses across and down your neck. When he reached your collarbone, his playful nips turned into more of a love bite, sucking at the skin to soothe the pain. "Mine," he murmured against your skin.

"Yours, only yours, Dean," you whispered as you ran your fingers through his hair. You gave it a gentle tug and were rewarded with a growl of pleasure.

When the two of you broke apart, you were both panting, trying to catch your breaths. "All this time," Dean began, as he touched his forehead to yours. "All this time, and you were right here. How could I not have seen how lovely and wonderful you are before now?" he mused.

You closed your eyes, your hand still on his cheek. "Doesn't matter, Dean. What does matter is that we're together now. And I intend on making the most of our time, regardless of whatever may come our way. I love you, Dean," you remarked.

"Sounds like a great plan, making the most of our time together. I love you too, sweetheart," Dean replied.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #spn imagines

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

Hi, I recently came across your post talking about dark Daenerys always being the end game. I thought you did an excellent job showing the foreshadowing fans missed from the show. What surprised me on the show was JonxDany. I just couldn't wrap my head around the "romance". It felt out of character and illogical. As someone who loves Daenerys as a character and seems to really understand her, do you think they were in love? Is it tragic or political? I can't seem to reconcile it. Thank you!

Hi Nonnie! Thank you so much for the compliment, oh my goodness! And thank you for the ask!

Tbh with you, I never quite wrapped my head around the Jonerys romance either. I know a lot of people thought it was due to the lack of chemistry between Emilia and Kit on screen (I disagree, that dragon riding scene in 8x01 proved they did which makes me think their lack of romantic chemistry was intentional on the show’s part through the writing and editing), or that it was rushed (this part could be possible since they rushed her dark turn as well). But I honestly think it was meant to be tragic for both Jon and Daenerys, but more political on Jon’s side, at least in the beginning. 

I know a lot of people don’t agree with the pol!Jon theory and think it’s just that, a theory, but looking at the time from when Jon has met Dany through to the end, I find it hard to think anything else. Because that certainly would have explained away the receding of Jon’s POV/character after he and Dany met. It also would have went in line with what Kit had said before the beginning of season 7 about Jon being more political that season, possibly manipulating (I don’t think he used that exact word but I’m paraphrasing for him), but doing it kindly. Even though GoT blew up everyone’s arcs at the end of the last season, at the time, we knew there was a reason that Sansa said the line to him in 7x01 “You need to be smarter than Father. You need to be smarter than Robb” and we had seen Jon listening to Sansa by him deciding to leave the North (and organizing their defense for the upcoming battle) in her hands, asking Sansa what she thought when he got Tyrion’s scroll in 7x02, and what he says to Tyrion in 7x03. So, I personally think they were gearing up for Jon to do whatever it took to get Dany and her dragons up North for the battle (while probably not feeling all that comfortable about it but knowing it had to be done), which is why I think we see him and his band of men go on that quest in 7x06 & meet with Cersei and Co along with Dany in 7x07. 

There’s just too many questionable moments that happen from 7x03 to 8x06 that prove Jon was not as smitten as Dany was with him: 

The way he studies Dany reuniting with Jorah, the fact that he seems almost uncomfortable when Dany says in 7x05 “I’ve grown used to him” & his response “I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, Your Grace” and he doesn’t look back once as they push the boat out into the water (I think they purposely showed the contrast between Jorah saying goodbye to Dany vs Jon saying goodbye to Dany, there was definitely a reason they show Jorah looking back and not Jon but they play Jon and Dany’s love theme in the background - x)

Jon’s “what did I do face?” after he bends the knee figuratively in the boat cabin (3:23 - x) (though to be fair, the 7x06 script confirmed this is when Jon realizes he has feelings for her after seeing Dany mourning Viserion so this reaction of Jon’s could be that he basically just gave the North away)

Jon’s reaction and looking over at Varys and Missandei after Dany blows up on Tyrion in 7x04 and says “Your family, you mean? Perhaps you don’t want to hurt them after all” (1:11 - x) - which is really foreshadowing that Jon will have to make the same choice eventually, that Dany will give that ultimatum, me or your family, which she does in 8x04 and then inadvertently continues to in 8x05 and 8x06 - then Dany pushes him for advice, he gives it to her, and she doesn’t completely follow it to the letter, and then eventually she disregards it completely when she burns down KL in 8x05

Jon not showing any emotion when he receives word that Arya & Bran are alive & back home while in front of Dany though we see his reactions in 8x01 when he’s reunited with them (7x05) (8x01)

Jon’s reaction to the Northerners’ not so great reaction to Dany that was cut (0:43 - x)

Drogon watching Jon and Dany make out in 8x01 and Jon keeping his eyes open as he kisses Dany & keeping her in front of him (a very common trope, if that’s the right word, to indicate that something shifty is afoot or there is distrust - 4:11 x)

the infamous squint Jon has in response to Dany talking in response to Tyrion (x) which they definitely included for a reason and this for me solidified Kit as one of the Masters of Microexpressions

Jon’s reactions to Dany (that she can’t see) when she visits him in his room after the Feast in 8x04 (x)

Jon’s immediate whiplash worried turn to Dany when Tormund says proudly “or a King!” to check her reaction (x) plus the framing in this scene is not only meant to show the increasing isolation & paranoia Dany is feeling but for Jon to have his back to her (after they shared that warm smile no less which she realizes in 0:45 - x) I think it speaks very loudly that he is not as head over heels as people think he is but that he is placating her while also caring about her (she is family to him, the last of his real father’s family, & he’s also still attracted to her)

his glare to Sansa while planning the assault on KL to get her to shut up for lack of a better way to put it (2:36 x) which Tyrion later confirms in the same episode with his line to Sansa “why provoke her?” which leads to Sansa realizing Tyrion is afraid of Dany and then she also realizes Jon is too (Jon’s fear is not confirmed in dialogue in this moment but the ones seeing the writing on the wall for this whole thing, it wasn’t a large leap for them to make, knowing the characters they way they do) which then leads to her telling his secret

Jon giving himself up basically, to go South, I think he’s very aware he will not be coming North again once Dany wins and that is why he asks Tormund to take Ghost with him - you see him saying goodbye to Sam and Gilly, finding out about their child on the way, to Tormund, to Ghost (I know people were mad that Jon didn’t pet Ghost, I was too, but I think he honestly couldn’t handle it at that moment and I’ve seen brilliant metas circulate that talk about how Ghost is an extension of Jon and his injuries and look echo how Jon really feels - & if you see the sliced ear, it’s very possible that they are fully correct in that reading, Jon has stopped listening, he’s doing what he thinks is right, what he has to do, his duty, he’s not listening to Sam or Tormund or Sansa or even Arya) - this whole scene is meant as a goodbye to Jon Snow as a character (his Night’s Watch arc, his Wildling arc, even his bastard/Stark arc (and his wants that he has, his response to Gilly when she tells him they want tto name their child after him: “I hope it’s a girl” is just heartbreaking, Jon wanted a family someday (5:08 - x, notice how the Stark theme starts up subtly in the background) & he always wanted to be a Stark and in his mind, he is getting neither one nor does he think he deserve them at this point) and I think that’s why they don’t have any other Starks in that scene (& plus they had the Starks in that other scene in 8x04) (x) -- this whole scene really is the proof in the pudding for me regarding the whole duty vs love debate, coming down on the side of duty

Jon’s “I love you” in the fireplace scene seems to be more an answer to not just reassure her but tamp down any growing fury after just witnessing Varys’ execution (1:11 x) immediately followed up by his usual line “you will always be my queen” and then when she asks “is that all I am to you? Your queen?” notice that he doesn’t answer but lets her kiss him which he then doesn’t return and she realizes (notice his loud breathing too, it’s not passion, it’s fear, fear of what it might mean that he is not returning her affection so to speak, sadly for Dany I think she realizes this too and that’s why she subtly shakes her head, steps back and says “alright, let it be fear”, the part of me that loves Dany truly felt horrible for her in this moment though she scared the crap out of me too lol, it’s harsh because she really does love Jon, not enough to give up the IT and her destiny, but enough that she wants their relationship to work, that she did go up North to fight for him, delaying the attack on KL, she lost Jorah and Viserion, her forces were depleted, idk I just have some sympathy for her here because I still love her, and this is before she went full on dark, and Jon’s “I love you” was said softly with some measure of warmth in his eyes I think but I don’t believe he meant it the way she wanted him to)

Kit had this to say right before season 7 aired which I find fascinating because yes while he can’t give away spoilers, he didn’t need to answer this so definitively. And while he didn’t know what was going to happen in season 8 yet, I think this lends creedence (is that the right word?) to the fact that Jon was not head over heels in love with Dany (not like he was with Ygritte)

But saying all of that, I think by the end, Jon definitely cared for her. I don’t think he wanted her to die or even go bad. I think he was ready to give himself up to be with her to protect his home, to placate her, but also so there would no longer be a Targaryen living alone in the world. I think he remembers Aemon’s words all too well. However, I don’t think he could reconcile himself to a full on romance (which I think incest did play a part into it, but I think had that not been a factor, he still wouldn’t have been head over heels for Dany, incest with cousins and uncles/aunts was common in the GoT universe, Starks in history married their cousins at times [look back at their family tree, they were no strangers to it], and we all know about the Targaryen inbreeding, but I really think it has more to do with who Dany ends up being in the end than anything, and that’s why we see some moments that could be misconstrued as romantic and some warm, I would almost say tender, like the waterfall scene in 8x01 before Drogon enters the frame so to speak). I think, like every other character in the show that came into her orbit, Jon had feelings for the same Dany that they all did, that Jorah was in love with, that Tyrion believed in and was also in love with, that Varys supported until he couldn’t: the breaker of chains, the girl who walked into a fire with three eggs and out of the same fire with three dragons, etc. But once the curtain was pulled back and the Wizard was revealed, after he was around her long enough, I think Jon knew who she really was becoming and I really believe that played a major part in the portrayal of their “romance”. I also think that when Jon left to go to KL in 8x04, a part of him planned to take up Jorah’s role in Dany’s life. Not to say that he could replace Jorah or become a full on advisor to her, but that he would join Tyrion, Varys, Grey Worm, and Missandei in helping to win Dany back her IT like he promised but also to keep her placated, maybe help steer her in the right direction. And be someone who genuinely cares about her, another Targaryen (though no one knowing he was one had Sansa not told Tyrion). Until she tired of him or decided to kill him to end the threat his birthright posed. He says as much in 8x06 to Tyrion “That’s her decision”. I don’t think he ever thought Dany would actually ask him to join her on the IT and it definitely wasn’t something he wanted.

I did mention tragic for Jon, too, and I think that’s where the tragedy comes in. He has now become the Targaryen alone in the world, he is now a queenslayer, a kinslayer, and he is exiled back to the Night’s Watch. He had to kill someone he cared about, he had to kill a woman (he couldn’t do it twice before, with Ygritte and Melisandre), he had to kill his last living Targaryen family. And he had to do it while deceiving her in that last moment (which is why I think they dialed back the whole pol!Jon thing if it was ever on the table, which I definitely believe it was at some point) and watch her die. It wasn’t something he wanted to do as we know, but he had to, and we see him questioning himself even after she’s gone. (x) So I feel it was more political (in the beginning), complex (middle), and tragic (in the end) for Jon but for different reasons than Dany.

As for Dany, I think from her end, it was meant to be more of a tragic romance. In the books, I believe, there is a prophecy that Dany will know three betrayals and love is one of them. I don’t know if they carried that into the show here exactly, but there is a common theme of betrayal among Dany’s arc as we all know. I think she truly loved Jon and hoped he would be what she could never find before, had never seen in Viserys (not that she considered him romantically but I mean since he was the only other Targaryen she knew about at the time, and she knew the Targaryen history of siblings marrying siblings), or Drogo, or Daario, or even Jorah. Regardless of her feelings for any of them, regardless of their feelings for her, I think she thought she found what she wanted, what she needed, in Jon. Though I think finding out about Jon being her long lost nephew (and rival claim to the IT) deterred it maybe for a moment (or make her at least second guess it), but she still loved him and felt just as strongly. Not enough to deter her from her goal and her destiny (after the Great War is over, I mean), but as much as she possibly can. I think she really thought Jon was it for her. I also think she expected betrayal from Jon as she states in 8x05 to Tyrion (x), and then the look she gives Jon after Tyrion is taken away to a cell in 8x06 (1:50, you can also see Jon’s shock here because he wasn’t expecting her to be watching him so closely & he realizes oh crap, don’t blink, while they play the love theme in the background, she’s waiting for him to “betray” her too and had he defended Tyrion then and there, I have no doubt she would have thrown him in a jail cell, too, waiting for judgement aka execution x) but when he doesn’t “betray” her and she’s attained her goal, she is ready to make plans to rule together and be with him completely. It is definitely tragic for her end because here she expected him to betray her (like everyone else has at some time or another except Missandei, GW & Daario) twice by then, and the one time she doesn’t expect it, he does (no matter how it might have been justified & Jon’s only option) and it means her end. I’m not justifying her actions at all but I can see where they attempted to portray this as a tragic romance for her but only for her. Dany’s POV ends up swallowing most of the show in season 8, to the point where her story line becomes basically the show’s story line. Her arc becomes the sun that all other arcs are orbiting around and this is because she’s the other Big Bad after the Night King. Plus, I also think they were planning something big with Jon and that’s why they removed most of his story (so to speak) and important moments with the Starks, etc, for the big reveal in the end (it’s common in other shows I’ve seen and they did everything the same way they did in those other shows until 8x06 when they abandoned it). I don’t know what changed in the end, but that’s what I truly believe was what they were going for when it came to Dany herself. Tragic romance. I don’t believe it was ever political for her, in any way, shape, or form. I think once she fell in love with Jon, that was it.

The love theme itself “Truth” if you listen to it on the S7 soundtrack (Ramin Djawdi is a master btw) has an epic feel to it but almost a tragic one (though tragedy takes a back seat to the epic). It’s more Targaryen theme in nature (I have no idea what specific instrument you would call it) and you can hear it coming from Dany’s side almost, if that makes sense. And I think that’s because not only does it refer to the scene where Bran reveals who Jon is, and the boat sex is happening, but also because I believe it was only meant for Dany to experience this great romance. It does start out Stark-y just a tiny bit but then turns into something more, swells, and you can hear a slight Targaryen tint coming to it. After the first swell of music, you can almost see the boat scene happening in your head, whether you’ve actually seen it or not, and there’s almost a trepidation in the beginning, a contemplation, and then it’s all in, both feet over the edge and all hands on deck, pardon the pun. (x) This music plays as we know during the bending the knee scene in another song “See You For What You Are” (x), more subtle, but it’s there. And I think not only is it because it’s the moment where Jon realizes he has feelings and this leads to opening the door for the boat bang, but also because it’s what Jon says (this song, to me, sounds even more Targaryen-y to me) to Dany after he bends the knee, “see you for what you are” not who. And I know I mentioned it above, but it also plays during certain moments in season 8 that really make you question that romance, like that scene in 8x06. I think it’s all very telling. 

I have to be very honest, I’m not pro-Jonerys at all. But it’s not because I hate Dany or Jon or hate the idea of them together or get squicked by the family angle, it’s because the relationship was not good for either of their characters in the show. 

I remember watching 7x06 for the first time and seeing her reaction (or lack thereof) for Viserion’s death. I think she was in shock when it happened but who does she stand on the wall waiting for after? Jon. And that bothered me so much because she was the mother of dragons and they were the only children she would ever have. (and I might be more slightly biased towards the animals on the show) Yes, she did cry for Viserion on the boat later, but it’s almost more muted I feel because it blurs with her concern for Jon in that moment. That bothered me tremendously. Little did I know this would become a recurring theme for the last season as well: Jon comes first to everything else except the IT. (and I personally can’t stand it when this happens, I’m sorry, I’m all for love, but when you lose who you are, when you sacrifice yourself, I just can’t get past that) We do see her pain in 8x01 when Bran tells her about Viserion, and her pain at Rhaegal’s death in 8x04, but this is a strong female character who has proven she doesn’t need a man to run things. She is not someone who would get so besotted with someone that she would push everything else to the back burner and allow whatever is happening with him to color her decisions (I know, we all fall in love and it can happen, especially if it’s a first love or something akin to what one can feel as true love, if they’re convinced it’s that, but damn). Daario made suggestions to her but in the end, she made her own decisions. Drogo told her how to be but in the end, she figured out a way to appeal to him to do as she wanted (as we see in that scene where she takes the women into her care). Jorah advised her, so did Tyrion, but in the end she made her own decisions. 

I hate it when they do this to strong female characters (which is why I despised the whole Sansa vs Dany thing, I get it story wise but here were two arguably incredibly strong women going head to head over a man most of the time or at least they tried to show being a factor in Dany’s fall and it just... ugh). So not only did Dany falling in love with Jon lead to her fall, her demise, but it wasn’t good for Jon, either. He had to keep who he was a secret, he had to placate her, give himself up and over to duty, the table was not tilted towards him really in their relationship, not in season 8 at least, the power dynamic was all screwy (as shown in that bedroom scene in 8x04 & the fireplace scene in 8x05). I just don’t think they made a good couple to be honest, not one that could have worked out long term I think, despite what happened in KL & Jon feeling uncomfortable. Personally, not that I’m the show or GRRM, but I think eventually, had Jon not married her and ruled with her, there would have been a Dance of Dragons 2.0 with Jon possibly losing in the end. It depends really on if anyone else found out about Jon’s parentage and how much of a threat ir would have become. And I love both characters too much to see either of them go that route. But then of course, that happened so... 

Anyhoo, I’m so sorry for the 100 page essay in response lol. I swear I didn’t mean to get so wordy. I guess I still have a lot of thoughts where this show is concerned. This was my first ask, thank you so much for being it and for such an amazing question! <3

#ask #what a great question! #thank you #got #game of thrones #political!jon #anti jonerys #because i'm not pro jonerys #and never will be #both characters deserved better #than each other #too destructive #look at where they ended up in the end #pol!jon #undercover lover!jon #jon snow

[h0unds-of-h3ll]

I don’t understand that reference

The bunker nonetheless is the most boring place on earth, until you come to terms with it.

This is a Team Free Will x reader one shot, but its heavily on Casanova .

Viewer beware you're in for a scare: with the number of nicknames, fluff, sexual themes, and language, in this one.

I love these dorks too much..slight au

"Cas, it's just a bug," you sighed, rubbing your hand on the angels back trying to calm his thunderous mind. Cas let out a whimper, his deep-sky blues glassy as he watched another hoarder's ant crawl its way into the bunker, into Dean's electric trap he rigged up from the angel leaving out food for them to eat. One particular spark sent him into a frenzy he jumped into your arms "Y/N! IT'S JUST SO INHUMANE!" he sobbed out his breath getting caught in his throat as he gasped through the lump in his throat. "I know, I know" you reassured him, threading your fingers through his darkened locks, running your fingernails across his scalp, he slumped against your shoulder. Even throughout the tears, he smiled finding joy in your actions. 

It had been a few minutes, without Cas's whimpering or complaining. You had no idea how hard it was to lose your grace for the second time and especially to Lucifer, himself. Cas had lost it, to say the least, but it was ten times worse than before, and he was too dangerous to be left alone. so the boys had designated you the mom or babysitter was more an accurate title. And my God, if you didn't love him you would have left him to the ants because good lord was it a tiring title. 

The boys rarely even helped you with the man child/angel, Sam, of course, trying to pitch in whenever he could but he couldn't even help the half of the damage Cas had caused when he was out hunting. Which led you here crissed cross on the couch, reading Casanova IT, his head rested on your thigh. Blue oceans staring blankly at the plain white ceiling, hands entangled with one of yours. He said the book was too scary for him so he grabbed one of your hands to reassure him of safety, which you of course thought was ridiculous, but hey at least he was quiet. Every now and then he glanced your way. He was watching your lips as they twisted and turned your eyebrows knitting as you tried your best portraying the book and dramatizing it so it would interest him in the least bit. 

He gasped as he heard through his foggy brain as they mistreated Ben, he hated bullies, he hated Lucifer so much because he was such a big bully to his family. As he gathered his courage, he wanted to show you that he was devoted to protecting you from the darkness that scared him the night. He picked himself off the couch, dusting off an excellent portrayal of Kurt Cobain. On a washed-out grey-black shirt you had gifted him when he said his usual attire was and I quote "too sophisticated, not my taste." You remembering laughing at his snooty face as he declared his style of fashion.

 Lifting you out of your thoughts, quite literally might I add, he tucked his arms under the ditches of your knees and around your back. His hand behind your back was heavy on your chest. You just hoped he wouldn't squeeze. But oh, of course, the bloody bastard had to squeeze. (You honestly do blame Crowley for your variety of words.)  "CAS!" you squawked losing the page you were reading and dropping the 1000 paged book on the wood floor along with your dignity, to your dismay. 

You lifted your face from your misfortune and glared at the creature who had been breathing on the back of our neck for the last minute or so. His breath held as he realized, if he lowered his head the smallest bit, he would touch his lips against what he thought of luxurious finger-licking good ones. It didn't take long for you to notice where his eyes were flickering to every second that had passed. He wasn't what you would call "smooth." Quite the opposite, really. "I'm your shining knight, y/n.," he spoke softly, his lips twisting into the proudest smirk you had ever seen from the man-child. You snorted a laugh, not the most attractive thing you've done but you couldn't help it, seeing only how one side of his parted lips perked up, such a lopsided grin fitted for a lopsided man. "Casanova, you are the last person I would want to be my shining knight, in your state, I mean wait till we get your grace back. Then we can talk, you know my room number." You doubted if he did remember it, hell, he couldn't even remember his name half the time.

 His eyes sank in the rejection. They turned glossy and you knew the waterworks were going to come soon, although before they could you both heard the loud bearing of the bunker door opening. Telling you that both the boys were home. Alarming Cas he dropped you. Yes, I did not stutter, he dropped you. Right on your tailbone. You breathed out a stuttering gasp and groaned in pain as you reached back and felt the blossoming bruise. You looked up at the assailant, he looked like he had been shot. Eyes wide as saucers, mouth open letting flies in, his form turning stiff, and it certainly didn't help when Sam and Dean came into view, he ran. Presumably into your room to hide he no longer slept in his room demeaning it to have too many monsters in it. You couldn't help the eye roll that came after when he had told you that. Sam took one look at your current situation and sighed, saddened at the fact that. This was getting way too familiar to stumble across on you to find you like this and with and with a huff he grumbled out "I'll go and get the ice." 

It had been a few hours since Casanovas incident. Dean smirking and teasing how you and Cas should be less the next time, earning him the bird with he let out a hearty laugh at. You couldn't sit straight for the most part, which you and Sam later to find out that you had broken your tailbone. Which gave Dean even more fuel for him to jab at, but saying that you were devastated to find out about the loss of being able to sit was an understatement. You going to get Cas back, twice as hard. You were thinking about taking away his favorite cereal, he would be even in worse pain then you were. And if you could you would evil laugh but all that came out were sputters, "Y/n the only way you're going to be able to walk is to pop it back into place and hope for the best.." 

Sam said gently trying to not alarm you but doing the exact opposite. He was referencing to you laying flat on the wood floor face pressed against it making your cheek squished. Your eyes were wide looking like they were going to bust out of your skull, you tried to push yourself at off the cold surface but found yourself army crawling to get away from Sam's comment towards the current issue at hand. (More like at spine.) "You what?!, I swear to hell if you touch me. I will make Castiel smite you, and he thinks of me as his god, so-" your tangent was shortly interrupted by Sam's gorilla hands sandwiching your stomach and lower back right above your fun cushion. "HOLY MOTHER OF fUc-" you screeched as the sickening pop sounded from your lower half, your eyes fluttered close as your body became exasperated from the torture that it had just encountered. Sam's face had gone into a new level of bitch face as he tried to registered what your threat and what followed after it. 

"Hands down Sam, I'm just gonna put it out there that I'm the mother," Dean said patting the crouched Winchester by the back with a wicked smirk, Sam's face turned into disgust swatting away what he now thought of his brother's contaminated hand. Which I mean probably was it is Dean was talking about, what'd we expect? Sam carefully wrapped you in a blanket tortilla too afraid to move you and not wanting to get the headache of hearing your lecture, he decided that this was the best approach. Afterward, Sam stalked towards the fridge, his daddy long legs (completely non-sexual, or is it?) carrying him in a few strides. He hunched down, the mini-fridge they kept in the living room was too obnoxiously small for the giant. Dean knew that but would never get a new one, just because of the hilarity of having to see his brother crouch for a beer was something else. "If you are the mother then I must be a saint." 

Sam stammered out as he gulped down a drink of his beer, obtaining a now slight buzz and realizing that his hair was such a complex thing to keep out of his face. He started to swat at it as he would with a fly. Trying and failing to get it out of his face. Dean chuckled to himself and reached into his blue jean pocket and grabbed the small computer from his pocket, filming his brother that was looking like he was having a stroke. 

You awoke to dark blue eyes scanning your face, and what appeared to be Casanova sitting on the backs of his thighs, and his head held tilted like a kicked puppy, yet, he slumped over a little too much and fell on his side he smiled, and groaned out a laugh. "Heay, y/Loki' he slurred out, although when your eyes began to focus you noticed a drinking game is being played behind you between the two boys, Sam was laying on the table passed out while Dean had propped his feet on the table and kicked back in the chair, unconscious as well. Great. You didn't know how they could sleep through it but your ears were bleeding from the amount of bass in the background. 

You began to lift yourself up with the assistance of the couch, you grimaced your back now a dull pain, but as sharp as ever. You got about halfway but then your knees gave out and now you are face to face with the man, the myth, the legend. Casanova. He smiled a lazy one and if he wasn't drunk he sure did look high. "I blew a kite once." He said you just stared like a deer in headlights, not believing the blackmail you now have on him. His eyes grew wide and he shifted so he was lying flat on his back, he stuck his hands out and grasped something so vivid that was in his mind dragging them back and forth up and down. Then all at once, he stopped and his hands stayed in one place. You didn't dare question his intentions, having a grand time watching him mime his scenario out. He became eerily quiet for someone who was turned into a toddler for the second time in his career. 

You were shifted on your side, your left arm propped your hand resting against your head to keep it from falling. He looked over and you swear you just had the most intense staring game in your entire life. Not knowing his intentions it was all a ploy, a trick to some. He jutted out his neck and bit your cheek. You squealed in shock and in somewhat surprise as to his actions. You grasped your cheek now rubbing the reddened skin, "Goddamn Castiel, what are you? a walker?" you questioned the man who was now trying to act like a turtle and hid in his shirt. He pulled his shirt over his head, his stomach coming into full view. Your mouth fell slack as you took in the pale toned flesh of the angel. Who knew the man-child was so fit? you choked back a groan when you sat yourself up fully and attempted to stand. And holy hell the gods listened to your prayers and had allowed you to stand.

 You jabbed angel face in his too defined ribs with a sock clad foot, fear took over him and he started to swat everything in existence and kicked too, you would never forget about the kicking, you would never know-how, but he had managed to kick himself straight in the head. He moaned as he raised his hands to his head and clenched his fists in his/your shirt. You crouched and my god did it hurt like hell. You hesitated at first before you placed a hand on his, afraid that he would have another fit if you touched him. "Hey, buddy it's y/n," you started trying to comfort him to the point where he'd come out of his shell so you could see the damage he'd done to himself. All you got in return was a muffled "MMF." You knew by the way he snarled out that mmf that he was pissed, but quite frankly you didn't give a damn, too fed up with having to keep up his shit. "You know what casanova fuck it fine. Have it your way." 

You hissed out, you grabbed well more, yanked them from his head. His no's and why's sounding like a war cry. You didn't care about that though, all you cared about was ending this shit day, putting Casanova to bed by your side, and forget about all of what has happened in the mere few hours. He growled whenever you shoved the shirt down from over his face, revealing his eyes that were the deepest shade of blue and the most striking piercing shade that you have ever seen from the years you've known him. 

He querched an eyebrow when you didn't say anything but gawk at how beautiful they were. "Y/n," he let out your name in such a collected and calm tone that was such a contrast from his voice over the day, that you didn't even notice that he had spoken. Until he asked your name again with a sharp shake of your shoulders, that broke your trance from his gaze. "Wha-?" You were cut off short when his torn and broken shade of tulip lips pressed against yours in such quick haste, that it took your breath away. Or it could have been the fact that you were holding it from the sheer fact, that the casanova had just done something so intimate.  

His long fingers stretched behind your ears and cupped your jaw positioning you to the correct height, your own hands shoved into the raven on hair grabbing and pulling every which way. The literal child of man was making out with you, the man that had annoyed you to the ends of the earth, the man who had taught and some days forced you to learn about his culture, the man who you would risk your life for and him the same, the man who wouldn't leave your side for months until you finally got over a minor cold. And that he was postponing the literal apocalypse. (Yeah, that happened, long story.) Yet, he would always be the man who you loved. 

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #Cute and hot at the same time IRTR #team free will #fluff #castiel x reader #castiel x reader fluff #castiel novak x reader #castiel novak #supernatural #SPN #fanfic #xreader #what a dork #its cute tho #so much fluff #dean being a little shit #sam being the devil in disguise #cas being a clueless baby