#Jeez Sam you went on and on here

[whysamwhy123]

11 and 18 for the writer thing!

Thank you so much for sending this in! Took forever to answer it because I am The Worst. And I've gotta put it under the cut because this bitch rambled on like usual, LOL.

11) What work took you the longest to write?

I'm a pretty slow writer in general, but it was probably Voice in the Dark, Part Two. It was a much more staggered writing process than usual - I wrote the first couple sections almost immediately after I posted the first part, then I promptly abandoned it. Then, a couple weeks later, I circled back and finished it. But even if you take out the weeks of no progress, it still took a lot longer than usual just because of how long the damn thing ended up being. Especially with it going in a different direction than I thought it would. To this day, I still wonder what the reception would have been if I'd gone with the original ending where Hook would masturbate to completion over Danhausen's sleeping body, End of Evangelion style 🙂🙂🙂

18) The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year

This is a tough one because generally, I'm a bit of a coward and if I don't think I can write a character decently well, I just won't bother 😬 A lot of the time, I decide on who the POV character is based on ''Well, I don't think I can write very well from this person's perspective soooo...'' So instead, I'm just gonna ramble on about vaguely related stuff?

I think I did struggle a bit with OrangeHook early on? Both of those two are so monosyllabic and I'm a very dialogue-heavy kind of writer so that was tough to get ahold of. I don't think I'd be able to write OrangeHook from Hook's perspective tbh. It's an age thing, LOL. That being said, I do have a Bad Idea for an OrangeHook fic where I might decide to actually challenge myself for once and write it from Hook's perspective? It'll be a lot harder to write the fic that way but I think it would also potentially be more interesting? Although I doubt anyone would read it because the idea is pretty 😬

And maybe this doesn't count because I haven't posted it, but I did start writing my weird Ricky/Christian Sugar Baby AU that absolutely no one asked for and even though he's not the POV character, I had/am having a tough time writing Christian. Mainly because I'm not really a fan of his (he's one of those characters where I tend to enjoy him more in fic form. No idea if this is normal, but I tend to have characters that I like seeing what writers in the fandom will do with them and I'll find that interesting, but whenever I try to actually watch them on the product, it's just like...no thank you!) so it's hard for me to figure out how to actually write him. That one has to be from Ricky's POV; that way I can leave a lot more of Christian's character to the reader's imagination. I say that knowing that maybe two people would read this hypothetical extremely niche rarepair fic 🤣

[pearlzier]

hiii! i hope you’re having a good day/night ^_^ i was wondering if you could wirte either sam or dean winchester with a bimbo reader!! smut or fluff i dunno ahhh TY!!

☆ ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ this took me so long m'so sorry ml !! ۫ .

☆ warning ; tad bit suggestive i mean. it's dean ,,

“pass me the fuckin’ uh..” dean ran his hand through his hair, crouched beside baby. it was a one in a million day where dean had no shit to do, so he found himself doing checks on baby even if she was in perfect shape. doesn't mean he can't check in on his girl, whilst his girl is sat on the precariously stored chair. yeah, he'd told you if you fell he'd absolutely laugh at you however he knew full well that he'd literally perform an act of magic on you to keep you safe.

“uh, screw driver?” you bat your lashes at him, legs rocking as you typed on your phone, snorting out a laugh at the emoticon that charlie had sent you. of course, you liked to help dean out. but the weather was so good, and the sun was good for your skin, or so that forum that you read at the library when you went with sam said. also, you and charlie had a lot of gossip to catch up on, so.. you weren't on your game as much as you usually were.

a soft laugh slips past dean's lips as he shakes his head, looking back at the toolbox in your lap. you watch as he gets up, his hands a little stained with car oil, which in fact, does not suit the white colour of your babydoll top, clinging to the curve of your chest. which dean took much pleasure in, but besides—so you squirm back a little when he comes closer, “dean, you cannot touch me with your hands like that, i love you, but no—”

“relax, sweetheart, just tryna get a wrench,” dean teases, “can't a guy get a wrench? jeez,” he raises his hands teasingly before he carefully grabs a wrench from the tool box. not before swiping his thumb over your nose which causes you to squeal, and he quickly makes his way back to baby before you can retaliate.

“dean!” you gasp, rummaging for your pocket mirror in the pockets of your baby pink hoodie, finding it and soon looking at yourself in the mirror. a little smudge of darkness glistens on your nose and the pout you give dean makes him cackle a little.

“c'mon, it adds character, don't you think?” he does a little tinkering under the car, to which you have absolutely no clue what he's doing. did you want to know? no, not really. you wanted to know why you had oil on your nose! you knew why, but why dean did it was a mystery, and you huffed.

“you'll know what character is when i'm done with you,” you mumble back sassily, giggling when you see the surprise fill dean's gaze. so, he rises from where he is, and saunters his way back over, having used a rag to wipe down his hands so you wouldn't throw a little hissy fit.

“is that right, hm?” his green eyes lift to yours, and leaning against the chair, he bites his bottom lip. hell, he likes when you get fiesty with him. “gonna show me character?” his low, gravelly voice cooed softly as his hands brushed over your sides.

this knocked you down a few pegs, because to be fair, if your bombshell of a boyfriend is speaking like that and holding you like this, well, who isn't gonna get a little flustered. “uh—yeah, character.” you do notice how his eyes flit down to your cleavage for a vague moment, and you speak up, a little uncharacteristically but in a way dean adores—“eyes are up here, deano.”

a groan slips past his pink lips, and you soon find his green, piercing eyes hooded and looking up at you. “tease,” he mutters under his breath, and a flush dusts his skin that he never expected to happen. “think i know where your eyes are, doll, just enjoying..” he traced a finger over the lace containing the spill of your tits, “the view. know you're enjoyin’ mine.”

you thought he wouldn't notice! you'd been staring at him for a while now, considering the fact he'd blessed you with the sight of not only his arms in a tank but sweats? your man was a slut, you couldn't even deny it. “dean, stoppp,” you mumble, getting a little heated as he brushes his fingers over you. “shut up.”

he pouts playfully, pressing his forehead gently against yours. lifting his thumb to your glossy lips, he pulls it gently before letting it go, a giggle slipping past his lips. “now you're being mean, pretty baby,” his hands slide down from your chest to your thighs, squeezing them gently. “mean to your ol’ dean?”

you push at his chest playfully, tapping your acrylics against his chest with a little laugh. this causes dean to dig his fingers into the meat of your thigh a little and pull you against him. “you were bein’ mean to me first, dean!” his brows raise, “you know exactly how. oil? nose? coulda’ gotten it on my top!”

he rolled his eyes at your behaviour, it's not like that top was expensive anyway. you two got it when dean had literally stolen 20 dollars from a wallet he found on the floor this one time. but that's besides the point. “can always get you a new one,” he shrugs his shoulders, flashing the signature winchester smirk. “kinda always been itchin’ to rip this one anyway. doesn't do that body justice.”

“dean,” you two were literally outside the motel, you couldn't do anything like dean was absolutely suggesting. and judging from the way his hand was sliding up under your skirt to cup your ass, well, he was suggesting a lot. he gives a gentle squeeze, growling softly before he lifted you up off of the chair, causing you to squeal. “dean!”

he swung you over so you'd sit on the hood of the impala, watching as your little skirt hiked up. a grin played on his lips and he sighed softly. “how'd i get so lucky, huh?” dean lifted ring clad fingers to brush the side of your face. “grumpy hunter like me.”

“fine ass hunter like yourself,” your retort was instant.

“i didn't say it, you did, so it ain't braggin’,” dean wiggled his eyebrows instantly, drawing you impossibly closer as his hands groped at your thighs gently. he was clearly a big fan of your body.

“dean, there are people walking past,” you nudge him, not before placing a glossy kiss to his cheek. he shrugs, glancing over at a passing woman and her boyfriend on the street. in usual dean fashion, he gives your ass a pat and winks at the couple, not that you realise.

“well, maybe, they wanna piece of this fine ass,” he squeezed, looking up at you through his lashes. “they'd have to go through me, first though,” literally before you can even realise it, you've been hiked up over his shoulder with your ass practically out.

“dean, my skirt!” dean acts oblivious, but slides a hand over you to keep the view at bay, a laugh slipping past his lips. “relax, sweetheart, i got you,” does this calm your nerves? no, not really, but, you relax into his grasp.

“you're the worst,” as you shake your head, your earrings shimmer under the dim lights of the motel as you make your way in. dean's practically a deer in headlights looking at you before he focuses again, and taps the doorframe of where sam's in.

“keep an eye on baby, alright? got some uh, things to be doin’, sammy,” it's like sam didn't even have to ask as he saw dean give you a playful swat on the ass, herding you to the bedroom. 

“yeah, sure, whatever,” sam was ninety-five percent sure he might have to go do his research in the impala because knowing you two? you were loud.

tags ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ @onlynextdoor ۫ .

☆ 𝜗𝜚 ( your honor, i loveeee himmmmmmmmm.... lmk if u wanna be tagged in spn works lolz

[lostgirlmuseum]

Stuck (2)gether

(image from Pinterest ^) Summary: A continuation of Stuck Together, Bucky deals with the aftermath of now knowing what it’s like to be so close to you. He misses it. He’s scared of it. He needs it.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: None I don’t think, just some fluff and an awkward Bucky. Oh and implied wet socks (DON'T WORRY, NOT EXPLICIT)

A/N: Yes I think im very funny with the title lol

Previously…

You wonder what you did to make him so revolted by you.

Little do you know, at that very moment, Bucky is resisting every urge to run back to you.

Bucky woke up the next morning feeling lost. Like there was something missing. Before his groggy brain could put it together, he saw his phone light up with a reminder that he was meeting Sam to go on a jog. He quickly got up and got dressed, trying to ignore that weird nagging feeling that a piece of him was gone.

Seeing as he lives on the fourth floor of the tower, he could’ve very easily taken the stairs to level one. It’s not like he got winded often. But something compelled him to take the elevator.

Right as the odd feeling had started to dissipate, the elevator doors opened. And there you were.

It all came crashing back to him. 

Fu-

“Oh, hey Buck.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He briefly considered not getting on. He could take the stairs. But there you stood, and he felt the urge to stand right next to you.

“What floor?” You asked.

He looked at the buttons. He saw “12” glow a faint yellow.

“Twelve.” 

“Oh, me too.” 

“Yes.”

Yes? What does that even mean? Just be cool Barnes. Be cool—

Your sweet voice interrupted his internal panic.

“Nice. With how hot it’s been lately, I figured I should take advantage of the pool.”

He finally noticed the towel you were carrying.

“Yeah, same.” He crossed his arms.

“You’re heading to the pool too?” 

“Yeah.”

“What are the chances?” You politely laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go swimming.”

“I swim.” 

Despite his horrible conversational skills, he doesn’t want this elevator ride to end.

“I don’t doubt it.” 

There came an awkward lull in the conversation. He felt guilty for not only lying about where he was headed, but even more so for his lack of interesting responses. The least he could do was be engaging.

Either you gave up on him, or you lost interest, because neither of you said another word as you exited the elevator, and walked down the hall into the pool room.

He stood and watched as you grabbed a chair and draped your towel over it. You two were the only ones there. He continued to watch as you took off your t-shirt and stepped out of your shorts, revealing a navy bathing suit underneath. You stacked your clothes neatly on the chair, and pulled your hair back. You ambled up to the edge of the pool and dipped your toe in. Then you turned around and saw him staring right back at you, unmoving.

“Where’s your swimsuit?” You tilted your head.

“Um.” He looked at you blankly for a solid three seconds. He realized there was a significant hitch in his plan. Could he make an excuse and just leave? Yes. Was he going to? No. Because all logic went out the window the minute the elevator doors opened and he saw you. He’s acting on the instinct to be near you, and not leave your side, no matter what. “I didn’t bring it.”

“Oh, I know what you’re doing.” You laughed.

Oh jeez. You’ve caught him. He’s mortified. He can’t even explain the feelings coursing through his veins, and yet you’ve already figured him out.

“Swimming fully clothed, yeah? I’ve heard it’s a good skill to learn, never know when you might be in a situation where you unexpectedly find yourself in a body of water, especially in our line of work.”

He nodded. 

You turned back to the water and took a step up on the diving block. You got in position and dove into the water, leaving Bucky with his jaw dropped at how you just found his excuse for him.

“You coming in, or what?” You called, wading in the pool.

“I’m here, sorry,” Bucky started his apologies to Sam the minute he found him waiting on a bench in the lobby.

“Man, where were you? I thought we were meeting for a run. And why the hell are you dripping?” 

“Sorry, I got held up.”

“Doing what? Did you forget to take your clothes off in the shower?”

“No.”

“Okay…” Sam looked Bucky up and down, taking in the way his shirt clung to his chest, the messy damp hair, and the literal puddle he stood in. “Buck, I’m waiting for an explanation on why you’re drenched.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Weird dude. You’re being weird. I mean, you’re always weird, but especially right now.”

“Are we running, or not?” He groaned.

“With those squeaky ass shoes? I’m thinking not.”

Around lunch time, Bucky had found you alone in the kitchen, making a sandwich. Your hair was still a bit damp from the pool earlier, but so was his. 

“Oh!” You jumped, “You snuck up on me!”

“Sorry,” he blushed. 

Next thing he knew, he was standing right beside you, behind the kitchen island. 

You seemed just as surprised at his proximity, he usually stayed a fair distance away from everyone. Minus Steve, maybe.

He mumbled something, searching your face.

“What?” You asked.

“Um, what are you making?”

“Just a sandwich.”

“What kind of sandwich?”

“I don’t know, I kinda grabbed whatever I could find from the fridge.”

He felt himself smile.

“What?” You laughed, noticing his weird reaction.

“You’ve got—” he paused, hesitating to bring his hand up, “here, I got it.” 

He brought his thumb to your left cheekbone, carefully wiping away a smudge of mustard you had managed.

“Oh,” you giggled. But he didn’t take his hand away. He just let it lightly hover, looking wistfully from his hand by your cheek to your glittering eyes.

“Is that sandwich for me?” Tony’s voice penetrated the bubble Bucky had found himself in. 

Immediately, Bucky brought his arms to his sides and stepped away from you, backing up a ridiculous five feet.

He saw a glimpse of hurt and confusion on your face, but it quickly dissipated into a teasing smile.

“Sorry Iron Man, but this sandwich is mine.” You crossed your arms.

“Well, this kitchen is mine. My kitchen, my rules, yeah?”

“Alright, just take the sandwich.”

“Is that yellow or Dijon mustard I see on it?”

“Yellow.”

“Damn. I prefer Dijon.” Tony quipped back.

Bucky did what he did best, standing and watching from afar.

Tony glanced over at him and back at you. The man leaned over the counter.

“Come here.” He gestured for you to lean in.

You gave him a suspicious look but stepped closer, leaning over the island.

Tony brought his hand up to where Bucky had just had his, and swiped.

“Weird, I thought I saw a smudge of something.” Tony teased, looking back over at Bucky.

Bucky felt his cheeks flush. Damn Stark, and having to ruin everything. Bucky didn’t care how you responded, he suddenly felt the urge to get the hell out. 

“Buck–” he heard you start to call, but he was already half-way out the door.

Bucky was laying face down on his bed when he heard the knock at his door.

“Who is it?” He grumbled.

There was no response.

“Hello?”

Begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and opened the door. No one was there. He looked down and finally noticed the note at his feet. He glanced down the empty hallway before picking up the small paper and going back into his room.

“Meet me in my room in 5 minutes. Go ahead in, I’ll be there soon.

                        From, Y/N”

His heart started to race. 

You were inviting him into your room? Your space. God, this has got to be a dream. Finally, he can be close to you and not worry about anyone interrupting. His head was so clouded with the anticipation of you that he didn’t even think to wonder what you wanted to meet him for. Or why you felt the need to put it in a note.

You said to meet in five minutes, but he couldn’t help himself. He left immediately for your room and was three minutes early. He tugged at his hair for a minute, and rocked on his heels. He couldn’t take it. What’s two minutes?

He knocked on your door and it creaked open. 

He let himself in, like you asked, and nearly sat on the edge of your bed, but thought it too intimate, opting for your cozy chair in the corner. It smelled like you. 

Soon after, he heard steps coming down the hall and closer to your door.

He tried to keep his body still, but he wanted to meet you halfway. He’d never felt so impatient.

The door slowly started to open…

Bucky blanched. 

“Peter?” 

“I’m really sorry about this Sergeant Barnes.” The kid gave him apologetic eyes.

“Sorry about w—” Bucky didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Peter shot two webs, both landing perfectly in place where Bucky’s arms rested on the chair.

“Mr. Starks orders.” Peter burst out, right before making his quick exit out the door.

Before Bucky could even start to badger the kid, two faces appeared in the doorway.

“Stark! What the fuck is going on?!” Bucky yelled, and turned his attention to the other body. “Wilson, I swear to fucking god—”

“Cool it Tin Man, this is for your own good,” Tony started, “this way you have to confront your feelings for Y/N.”

“I don’t have feelings for—” Bucky started to bark back, but Sam interrupted from the doorway.

“Don’t lie, Buck, I talked to Y/N earlier. You were late because you went swimming, fully clothed, just to be near her. That’s crazy!”

“Psychotic, really,” Tony added. 

“Desperate, is what it is.” Sam pointed. “Sorry to do this to you, really, but it’s for your own good. And hers too.”

The men started to close the door, and Bucky seethed, “Don’t you dare, I will kill you both!”

He was seeing red.

Stark's muffled remark came behind the door.

“Good luck, we’re rooting for you!”

“STARRRRKK—”

He tried thrashing, but it was useless. He was feeling murderous. The chair bumped onto the ground as he repeatedly attempted to stand up and free his wrists from their confines.

But his anger swiftly turned to panic the second he sensed footsteps and heard your light humming nearing the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, willing the web to dissolve.

But it was too late. You opened the door, and spotted him immediately.

“Wha—Bucky?”

“Hey, hi, yeah,”

“Are you alright?” You asked, looking around the room for any other unusual signs. “What are you doing here? Is that Peter’s web?”

“You see, I can explain,” he started, already breathless.

“Okay…” 

“Um, I got a note from you saying to meet you in your room, and so that’s why I’m here. Obviously, you didn’t write it, but I didn’t know that at the time so I let myself in, but then Parker popped out of nowhere, webbed me to the chair, and then Stark and Sam appeared and said stuff and essentially this is all an elaborate prank on behalf of them.”

You just looked at him.

“You’re looking at me like I’m crazy, I get it, it sounds unbelievable, but I swear to god that is what happened.”

“Relax, Bucky, I believe you. I just don’t get the joke.” You crossed your arms, lost in thought.

“They’re twisted, who knows what they are ever thinking.”

“I just don’t understand why they’d do this.”

“I don’t know, they wanted us to talk, it’s stupid.” He rolled his eyes.

“Talk? About what?”

Bucky didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. A look of realization and a twinge of shame crossed your face.

“Oh, is this about the other day? Bucky, I’m really sorry. I was just trying to help you get the web off, I didn’t know I’d get stuck to you. I’m really, really, sorry, I never would have done it if I’d known. I know you value your space, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I apologize.”

Bucky started to sputter, not even sure how to correct how wrong you were.

“Oh my gosh! And now you’re trapped in my room, it’s happening again. I’m sorry, you probably want to be as far away as possible from me right now. I’ll go find the web dissolver, I’ll give you space,”

“No, I don’t want space.” He blurted. Well, no going back now. “I want to be…close to you.” He whispered, ducking his head in humiliation.

You simply shook your head, not understanding.

“I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing. Ever since we got stuck together, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about being close to you. I don’t know what’s happened to me, maybe it’s just that I haven’t been so close to another person in so long, or something else is wrong with me. I see you and I’m itching to be closer. It’s like when the web dissolved a magnet took its place. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why do you assume I don’t feel the same way?”

“You—” Bucky blinked, “you what?”

“Maybe I like being close to you too? Maybe I’m embarrassed because you started to run away from me?”

“Fuck, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just a new feeling for me and I don’t completely understand it, and I don’t want Stark making me feel like a fool.” He hung his head. “Which he’s doing a really good job of right now.”

“Forget Stark, he can be a raging asshole.” You spotted the way he was struggling against the restraints. “Let me make a quick call, and then we can continue this conversation.”

You quickly picked up your phone, tapped around, and held the phone to your ear. It rung three times before someone answered.

“Peter?… No, I’m not angry…Yes, I am disappointed...Just bring the web solution…No, he won’t kill you…Yes, I promise…Okay, hurry.”

You hung up and turned your attention back to Bucky.

“So, you like me?”

He felt his cheeks warm. 

“I mean… yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, Bucky.” You smiled.

A minute or two later Peter knocked on the door, and peeked his head in with the formula.

“Please don’t be disappointed in me. I was just listening to Mr. Stark.” He begged you, his eyes wide looking into yours.

“Fine, I’m not disappointed.” You relented, always merciful. “But let this be a lesson in establishing boundaries. And I think I need to have a chat with Tony about taking advantage of you.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He sighed, handing you the bottle and rag.

“But, I think you owe someone else an apology.”

Peter looked Bucky in the eyes for the first time since the door opened. 

“I’m really sorry Sergeant Barnes. That wasn’t cool of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Whatever, just get outta here, kid.” He gave a small wave of his hand, which looked a bit awkward considering his forearms were still glued down.

That was pretty much as close as Bucky could get to accepting an apology.

Peter scurried off and you got to work on freeing Bucky.

Bucky was snuggled against you on the couch. He squeezed you tight, his big arms wrapped around your body. He had his head resting on your chest, and you were rubbing small circles on his back.

You had both been there for nearly an hour, unmoving from your spot.

Bucky heard you mumble a stern, “Behave,” to Tony when he walked in. Knowing he was defeated, he put his arms up in protest and walked on by without a single quip. Truly a feat for Iron Man.

He couldn’t be happier, being so close to your warmth.

Bucky didn’t know a lot of things. Like why he wasn’t dead yet, how Tony Stark could be such a pain, and what the hell is flan? But he did know one thing. That being close to you was the most perfect thing. It just feels right. You feel right. And he’s elated to know that there are a million more cuddles to come.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope this lived up to the first part, or at least was somewhat close? I hope you have a wonderful day, and let me know what you think!

[lesservillain]

— i. did you get what you deserve?

summary: the beginning.

cw: season 4 canon divergent, grumpy eddie, medical talks

an: this is a wayne heavy chapter, but i doubt anyone will complain.

Ringing. A very loud ringing. That’s all Eddie can hear.

Something’s pushing on his chest.

The ringing gets louder, until it peaks and starts to fade. Muffled voices all around him, and he can feel his body shifting. 

Then it shifts a lot. Ouch, that hurts.

Everything is dark. Or maybe his eyes are closed?

His eyes flutter a bit, but everything is blurry. 

There’s some yelling, but it’s too garbled in his ears to make out what’s being said.

It was dark one moment, then suddenly very bright. Like a flash directly in his eye. And then again. 

Everything hurts, he notices suddenly. But only because he feels it all slipping away. His body starts to float, suspended in black with a light just above him. Instinctively he swims towards it. It feels like warm sun rays on his cold, cold body.

When he hits the surface, everything starts to hurt again. His eyes open to a dimly lit room. Every part of his body feels heavy. Even moving his head is a challenge. There’s something next to him though, a presence that he can see out of his peripherals. He tries to call out, but there’s something in his mouth, his throat, obstructing his ability to talk. With all he can muster, he lets out a groan through his nose. Whatever is next to him shifts, moving quickly with a screech. 

“Ed? Ed, you awake son?!”

“I can help who’s next!”

Feet shuffling beneath you, you clutch your handbag close as you move through the bodies of your classmates. A handsome man about your age with a million dollar smile sits on the other side of the table. He looks at you expectantly as you take the hint, fumbling in your bag for your student ID.

“Sorry,” you mumble as he gives the card once over. He says your name and laughs when you respond with a yes?

“Thank you for coming,” he beams, “We’re happy to see so many people volunteering to help out.” He clicks his pen and copies your name down on a paper. You look him over as he does this. Thick, dark hair styled perfectly, with long lashes to match. His name is Sam, per the Hello my name is sticker on his shirt. He’s cute, you think.

“Yeah,” your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth so it comes out weird. After licking your lips, you continue. “Our teacher told us we could get extra credit. I guess everyone could use it after our last test.”

Nursing school is hard. Even harder when you don’t know anyone in your class. A lot of the girls all went to the surrounding high schools and knew at least one other person in one of their classes. But that wasn’t the case for you.

“I’ve heard some of those classes you all take are no joke,” he laughs, flipping through a stack of papers next to him.” 

“I certainly wasn’t laughing.”

He stops his flipping, looking up at you through those thick lashes, his eyes creased at the corners from his smile.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

The question catches you off guard. Was it that obvious?”

“N-no, I’m from up north.” You gesture upward, pointing above you.

“Like Canada?”

Now you’re smiling, “Try Anderson.”

“Oh, jeez,” he shakes his head, “That’s hardly north.”

“More north than here.”

“You got me there.” 

He pulls a small stack from his pile, sliding it across the table until it’s in front of you. You look down at it, immediately noticing that a large portion of the top page is blacked out by sharpie. Flipping it over, you see that the second page is pretty much the same, barely any information to be gathered at all from this “info” sheet.

“You look confused,” Sam says in a sarcastic tone.

“Um, just a little,” you sass him back, looking at him with a silent plea for answers.

“Okay, so, this guy here,” he points to the top of the page, finger just above the name Eddie Munson. “He’s not a very…popular guy around this area. I’ve been trying to get someone to take him as their case all morning and everyone’s turned him down.”

Your head tilts, eyes skimming over the paper as he talks. Under his name is an address in Hawkins, but most everything else is blacked out, even his age.

Still, even with the lack of knowledge you’ve hardly ever been one to turn someone down.

“Okay,” you say with a nod. 

“Okay?” Sam parrots back, shifting forward excitedly in his seat. 

“Yes, I’ll take him.”

“That’s great!” 

He grabs his pen and writes your name next to Mr.Munson’s on the paper, before sliding it into a white folder.

Sam pauses for a moment, a hand running through his hair as he looks around. “Hold on,” he says as he stands up, “let me find my lead and I’ll try and get you some more information on him.” He looks into your eyes, then up and down at you. Was he checking you out? Ugh, why did you have to be in your uniform right now?

You stand awkwardly as he leaves, taking the time to flatten the wrinkles in your dress and adjust your flossie. This school was one the only schools who hadn’t gotten with the times, still mandating the Nightingale uniform over scrubs for any female students. 

“Okay, so,” Sam tucks some papers into a red folder, “I wasn’t able to get anything too specific to tell you. I guess there’s a lot of hush hush going on with him right now. But, my lead did tell me I could give you this care packet. It’s all stuff you should know how to do, but it’ll give you a hint on what kind of care he’s going to need.”

You take the folder from him, opening it up to peak inside, only for him to place another paper with a card attached on top. 

“That paper is for the organization itself. You just have to have the patient or guardian sign when you go over there as proof to get your credit. Oh and,” he points to the card,” that’s my information. Feel free to call me if you, uh, have any questions.”

Suddenly, someone bumps into you. You close the folder quickly and turn around with wide eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry,” your classmate, Rhonda, apologizes with a wave of her hands as she keeps walking down the table. You breathe in, giving her a nod of acknowledgment before looking at Sam again. 

“Okay, um, thank you for everything,” you say, backing up from the table and making your exit. He calls out to you, but your ears are already starting to ring before you can even get to the double doors. 

Your feet carry you out of the building and into the hot August air. Sweat immediately beads at your hairline under the unforgiving sun, a most brutal summer that feels like it’s never going to end. 

You make a beeline for the parking lot, fumbling with your keys as you unlock your car and immediately begin rolling your windows down to try and let the non-existent breeze cool down your interior. Reaching inside you grab your pack of smokes and lighter from your middle console, lighting one up and feeling immediate relief as the smoke fills your lungs.

The drive to your friend's house is quiet other than the low tune of the radio playing. Tonya’s car isn’t in the driveway, and you say a silent thanks under your breath to have some time alone. You love Tonya, she’s been with you through everything, but you need some time to mentally decompress before dealing with her big personality.

After a quick shower and a bit of rummaging through the fridge for something quick to eat, you sit at the dining room table and start going through the red folder Sam gave to you. The top paper with the signature spots had a section on the top that you hadn’t noticed before where some information had been filled out. 

“The patient would like to be seen at…” You see a few time slots printed on the paper starting from 8 am ranging all the way to 5pm, the ladder being the time circled. You suddenly realize Sam never asked you what your availability was, or much of anything really. Not that you asked him anything either.

Five pm was pretty late in the day, and as you kept reading, you noticed that the next section asking for “frequency of visits” had Monday through Friday circled. 

This guy wants to be seen every day? You think to yourself. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone to cook for him or something.

Going through the different directional packets doesn’t make you feel much better. Information on post op care, wound disinfection, dressing changes--things you’ve done before, but not by yourself, and certainly not in someone’s home. 

Why do you do this to yourself?

The drive to Hawkins isn’t terrible. The “Welcome to Hell” didn’t do anything to settle your nerves, but you persisted.

A lot of closed roads lead you to take some detours, but you’d still be able to see how badly damaged the town was after the earthquake hit them. Businesses, houses, streets, all completely ruined by the way the ground split the town in fours.

You mustered up the courage to ask one of your classmates from here about what happened, and she told you that some serial killer tried to destroy the town by sacrificing teens to the devil. “Oh, okay,” was all you could give as a response. It was hard to tell if she was fucking with you or not, so you just decided to go and see Sam instead.

That turned out to not be a fruitful endeavor either. He seemed to dance around your questions, dodging them by asking you about yourself instead. You left with none of your questions answered other than a start date for your visitations.

The start day is today, a blazing hot Monday. You didn’t have time to change out of your uniform since your professor asked you to stay over to help clean up after labs, clock getting closer and closer to 5pm as you drive down this woodsy road.

A mailbox appears ahead with numbers that match the address given to you. You slow down and turn onto the gravel path, expecting to see a house as you do. Instead the drive continues into the woods, the thick lining of the surrounding trees blocking you from seeing past the brush even with full sun. The gravel crunches under your tires as you keep going down the path, following it up a slight incline before reaching a clearing. 

In the center of the clearing is a one story ranch style house, half brick and half light blue paneling. It has a covered front porch, bare except for a small table and a single chair,  an overflowing ashtray dead in the center. Well that’ll be good for you.

The house looked brand new, and completely out of place in the middle of the woods. It was almost creepy in the way it contrasts against the trees and dirt, no grass to be found. 

That's what it is, you realize. This house feels void of life.

You park your car next to an old gray pick up truck and sit there for a moment. Maybe you could smoke one more cigarette before going in. But what if they heard you coming and wonder why you’re taking so long?

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, grabbing your supply bag and pushing open the car door. 

You keep your head down, watching the dirt stick to your black uniform shoes as you cross the yard to the front porch. You knock on the door, wiping your feet on the welcome mat as best as you could. A pair of dirty work boots sits just outside the door. 

There’s movement behind the door that makes your head snap up, taking in a deep breath as you wait for the door to open. A quiet pause is interrupted by the sounds of multiple locks being undone and the door pulling open just enough to make the chain lock taught. 

An older gentleman’s wrinkled face makes its appearance in the crack of the door, looking at you up and down. “Can I help you?” He has a slight southern drawl, voice a bit horse as if he had just woken up. 

“Y-yes,” you squak, “um, are you Mr.Munson?”

His eye narrows and you see his arm shift behind the wall. 

“Depends on who's askin.”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m here volunteering with Visiting Angels? I was-“

He cuts you off with your name, asking it as a confirmation of who you are. You nod, “Yes, that’s me!” He looks you up and down. He grunts, shifting a bit until the sound of something hitting the ground slightly catches your attention. 

The door closes slightly, and with a click opens fully to reveal the older man in his entirety, standing aside enough for you to walk in, but his eyes scan the area behind you suspiciously. 

“Come on in,” he says, closing the door behind you, “I honestly didn’t think anyone was gonna come.”

“Well, I don’t mind the drive,” you say with a tight smile. Mr.Munson stands in place as you let your eyes wander over the house. The smell of fresh paint filled your nostrils, and the new furniture and bare walls gave you the same creepy feeling as the outside of the house. As your eyes reach the front door, you suppress a physical reaction to the large shotgun leaning against the wall next to it. 

A deep sigh from the man has you turning to face him, his rough hand running over his face to the back of his head. “You don’t have any clue, do you?”

“I’m sorry?” You’re having a hard time hiding the nerves that are bubbling up in your chest, body entering fight or flight mode. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, walking away from you and plopping down in one of the recliners. He gestures to the couch, “Have a seat, I’ll try and explain.”

You hesitate. You’re right by the door, you don’t have to do this. This guy doesn’t seem like he needs any help anyway. Sam’s words about him not being very popular in this area come to the forefront of your mind and now your head is swirling with possibilities as to why. 

A small ringing from another part of the couch pulls you from your spiral. 

“Shit, hold on a second,” the man says as he rises back to his feet, “let me go see what he wants and I’ll be right back.” He walks past you and down the hall, leaving you by yourself. 

This is it. Just turn around now and leave. 

“Whatcha need, Ed?”

Your ears perk up. Was the man you were talking to not who you came here for? Maybe it’s his dad, and the man you’re talking to is just Eddie’s tired son who needs help taking care of him. But why would he call his own dad Ed? Maybe it’s an uncle or a family friend? He did say he was a Munson…

“Okay, let me whip something up for ya.”

The mystery Munson walks back down the hall, slowing down enough to talk as he walks by. “The boy’s hungry, can we talk in the kitchen while I heat him up somethin?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you say after a moment, following behind him into a large dining room/kitchen area. There’s a huge table in the center of the dining area that’s covered with boxes labeled with things like “dishes,” “salvaged photos,” “salvaged misc.” It all the sudden clicks for you.

“So, I’m not sure what all they told you,” the man starts, speaking with his back turned as he pulls some things from the fridge. 

“I was given a name and an andress,” you say almost playfully, letting some of the tension leave your body. 

“Should’a known,” he says, looking over his shoulder at you with a smile and a roll of his eyes. “I think its for legal purposes, they can't disclose much about my nephew or something like that. But, uh,” he nods his head to one of the bar chairs at the counter between the two of you, “I can.” 

And so he did. He told you about how a murderer had escaped from prison and snuck back to Hawkins, murdering teens and attempting to pin it on his nephew. The killer had killed a girl in their old trailer, right in front of Eddie, almost killing him, too. 

But, since no one had realized that the killer escaped, the whole town had believed it was Eddie the whole time. Four teens were killed, almost 5, and Eddie was brutally tortured before his friends were able to save him. 

“Oh, my god,” you gasp with a hand over your mouth. 

“I know,” the man, Wayne, says as he scoops the macaroni and cheese into a bowl. He opens a drawer and pulls out a spoon with a large, grippy handle that you recognized from your nurse shadowing. They’re normally used for people who’ve had strokes or other hand mobility issues. He shoves the spoon into the bowl and walks around the counter. 

“I guess I’ve talked about him enough, might as well meet him for yourself.”

You slid out of your seat and follow Wayne down the hall to the very end. He gives the door a knock before opening it with a quick “coming in!” 

Stepping in behind him, you see a large, mostly empty room with more new looking furniture and a few boxes in various places. In the center against the wall was a hospital bed with a large pull bar dangling above it. You were expecting to see someone laying in the bed, but were met with the sight of a lump of blankets and comforters instead. 

“Ed, food’s ready boy,” Wayne says as he pulls a bedside table from against the wall to the bed. “Got someone here for you to meet, too.”

The lump on the bed moves a bit, and for a brief moment you see a set of eyes and a few wild curls peek from under the covers. But, just as quickly as you see them, they’re hidden once again. 

“Ed—“

“No,” his muffled, strained voice calls from under the covers. 

“Boy, don’t do this. You know I can’t leave you alone when I go—“

“No!” The voice squeaks, followed by a harsh cough. Wayne sighs, setting the bowl down softly.

“Let me get him set up and I’ll, uh, meet you back out in the living room.”

“Oh, okay,” you say quickly, backing out of the room and closing the door behind you. You’re barely down the hall when you can hear some strained yelling coming from the last room at the end of the hall. 

You settle back in the kitchen where you can’t hear the conversation happening between the two men. You thought about dark and dull eyes that looked at you briefly, how even with only that small glance of him, Eddie looked tired. Just about as tired as his uncle, who rounded the corner a few minutes later. 

“I’m so sorry about him, he’s just a little weary about strangers,” the older man says walking over to the phone sitting on the wall, picking it up and dialing. 

“It’s okay, I can understand that.” You give him a small smile, which he tries to return, but is distracted as whoever he’s calling picks up on their end. 

“Hey, Chief, it’s Wayne—sorry, yeah, Jim. Listen, Ed’s new caretaker is here, but he’s throwing a bit of a fit about ‘er. Think you’d be able to come and sit with him f’r the night until we can try again tomorrow?”

Disappointment washes over you. Not that you weren’t used to rejection, but you’d hardly been able to even give a first impression. Maybe your uniform put him off? Gotta start keeping clothes in the car to change into from now on…

The phone clings as Wayne hangs it up, body relaxing as a slow breath leaves him. He looks over to you, rather looking through you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Little miss, can I be frank with you?”

“It’s the uniform isn’t it?”

Wayne barks out a laugh, and you chuckle even though your inquiry was serious. “No, no--well, maybe a little.”

“I knew it,” you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to wear it when you’re here. S’long as you’re decent I don’t really care what you wear here to be honest. But, I did want to talk to you more about what we’re actually needing here.”

You look up at him, head tilting to the side in confusion. Several questions sit on the tip of your tongue, but you chose to just nod for him to continue.

“Okay. So, uh, I’ve been off work this whole time. Since March. I’ve been with the plant for a long time and my boss’s took a lotta pity on me with everything that’s going on. But…well that time is running out, and I can’t rely on anyone else to keep these bills paid, ya know?”

“Yes, yeah, I totally get that. Broke college kid here.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “So, I gotta go back to work. Tonight, actually, and, uh, I know this is short notice, but I need someone to stay here…while I’m at work.”

Your eyes go wide. “Oh, you wanted me to be, like, an overnight caretaker?”

“Yeah, I just, ya see with everything I told you about what happened, I couldn’t get anyone to come out and take care of him. Either they couldn’t pass a background check or once they realized who he was…So the Visiting Angel’s place was my last ditch effort to try and get someone in here. They said that it would be free if we went through the volunteer program, and that even though y’all are students that you’d still be able to help--But I understand if you can’t. You probably got a job and a family and a boyfrie--”

“I’ll do it.” The words fly out of your mouth without much thinking. But this poor man in front of you has been through hell with his nephew and how can you say no to him?

“Wait, really?” It’s his turn for his eyes to bug out, hardly able to believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind. What time do you need me to be here?”

Wayne’s face softens, head hanging low like he still can’t wrap his head around your words. “Well, uh,” he starts, “I gotta leave here ‘round 6:30 and I work til about 5 am give or take depending on the night crew. If you'd be here about 6 or quarter after, that would be just fine. I don’t know how to cook much, but I could try and whip ya up something when I make Ed’s dinner, and you could work on yer school or watch tv or whatever girls your age like to do.”

“I’m plenty content to just work on school or watch tv,” you assure him.

“Good, good,” he says with a nod, turning to look into the living room. “We don’t got a bed in the third bedroom yet, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch until I can find the time to go and get one. Am I gonna have’ta talk to your parents or anything about why you’re not coming home during the week or anything?”

“What? Oh, no, no,” you wave your hands at his question, “Not unless you know how to talk to the dead.”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Wayne cringes, hand running through his barely there hair. 

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” you say as you stand from your chair, “I will have to figure out how to tell my roommate. I don’t think she would like it if I told her that I was staying the night with a guy who was acquitted for murder.” 

Oops. You bite your tongue between your teeth, wishing you could take the last bit of that sentence back. But Wayne’s laugh makes you feel less bad.

“Trust me, if I was in your roommates shoes I wouldn’t be too happy either.”

The ring of Eddie’s bell echoes down the hall again, pulling both of your attention to the sound. 

“Better let me go myself. Don’t want to upset him again tonight. Why don’t you go head and head home and in the meantime I’ll talk to him. Try again tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“Good,” Wayne says, walking you to the door. He lets you out with a goodbye, the closing of the front door being followed by the sounds of locks being put back in their place.

The drive home was quiet, but your head was swirling with thoughts. Your brain goes back and forth on the situation you just got yourself into.

Instead of focusing on the negatives, you decide to make a list in your mind of things you’d need to bring with you to stay the night; a toothbrush, deodorant, your own pillow and blanket—would they let you take a shower there? Hopefully so, since some days you’re going to have to come over straight from work or class. So add shampoo and conditioner. Probably body wash, too. You doubt that two men living together use anything other than head and shoulders.

You cringe when you think about using feminine products while there. Maybe you’d just keep them in your bag and grab them as you need them. It wouldn’t hurt to bring an extra towel in case you need to put it under you while you sleep. 

Going through your mental checklist helps make the drive go by. Before you know it, you’re turning onto your street, where, surprise, surprise, Tonya’s boyfriend is once again parked in your spot in the driveway. You park on the street with a huff, thinking of all the things you want to say, but know you ultimately wont, not being one for confrontation.

“Hey, girl,” Tonya calls out from the couch. The smell of delicious food filling the whole house, so you know Charles must be cooking. “Go get a plate, Charlie just finished cooking.”

“I’m good, I grabbed something while I was out.” A lie, but you’d rather retreat to your room until Charles left. You’ve never been a fan of him and his pompous, know it all attitude. It was just better if you kept your interactions with him to a minimum rather than having to pretend he doesn’t get on your nerves. 

It was a few hours later, nearing 10 pm when you finally heard Tonya shut the front door, signaling that it was safe to leave. She was cleaning up Charle’s mess in the kitchen when you walked out from your room. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, keeping a comment about cleaning up after a child to yourself.

“I was wondering when you were going to come out,” she teases. “Thought I was gonna have to slip you a plate under your door.”

“Ha, ha,” you deadpan, opening the fridge to pull out leftovers from the weekend. 

“So why’d you come home so late today?”

The calendar with both of your schedules scribbled in stared you in the face as you closed the refrigerator door. You weren’t a very social person, usually just coming straight home from school or work. And even though Tonya was a very chill person 99% of the time, that wasn’t the case when it came to you. 

“I, uh…” you stuttered. You had the whole drive home and you forgot to think about what you’d tell her. If she knew the truth, she’d flip her lid and talk you out of it. You could try to lie, but there’s no way she’d believe you if you told her you were staying with a new guy that you’d never talked about or that you were helping out another friend she knows you don’t have. 

“I had a job interview!” It was the only sensible thing you could think of that may be somewhat convincing to her. “For a…nursing home. As a nurse's assistant.”

“Woah, really?” Tonya sets her cup on the counter, jaw dropped in excitement. “Omg, okay, how did it go? Are they going to have you do another interview? Details, girl, details!”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, putting out your hands to keep her from shaking you. You wrack your brain, trying to come up with a story on the spot. “It’s a newer nursing home…very small. Um, I would be able to do some of my nursing stuff under supervision of a nurse. And…it’s overnights—“

“Hold on, overnights?” Tonya interruptus, “Girl, that’s a lot with your school schedule.”

“Oh, um, I know, but its super casual and I can sleep in the afternoon when I get out of class or after work—“

“Wait, you’re not quitting CoffeeHouse?”

Shit.

“Ah, about that, um, I’m…still going to try and work there, just in case. Like if this doesn’t work out.” 

Tonya eyes you, making your hands feel sweaty under her scrutinizing gaze. “I don’t understand,” she states with a concerned tone. 

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you need to have two jobs? You don’t pay rent, Charlie cooks for all of us a couple times a week. I take care of the bills—“

“I feel guilty,” you blurt out, feeling actually guilty when you see her face contort with sadness. 

“No, babes, I told you that I didn’t want your money. I want you to focus on something for you for once.”

“This is for me though. It’s a chance to actually get a more authentic experience in my field, and — and I can’t just take and take from you forever.”

Tonya lunges forward, enveloping you in her arms. “Why noooooot,” she wines, fake crying into your shoulder, “just let me take care you, baby giiiiiirl.”

“Stooooooooop,” you cry back, “I’m an independent woman who don’t need no man, remember? I believe you’re the one who told me that.”

“Right, no man. But you do need me!” She pulls back flashing her picture perfect smile at you that has had guys folding for her since middle school. 

“You’re right,” you sigh in faux defeat, “if only I was enough for you…”

“Oh my gooooood, just get over your hang ups and learn to love him. He’s really not that bad.”

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“Not like you have room to talk.”

You gasp, putting on a dramatic display at her poking at your taste in men. 

“Don’t even try it,” she flicks your forehead. “When you find a guy that’s not totally batshit, then come talk to me.”

“I can’t help that I attract the crazies.”

After a few more white lies and half truths, the conversation shifts to other topics, including that of a retreat that Charles is planning for the two of them for their one year anniversary. Eventually you wind down and head to your room, making sure to check the locks on the door and windows on the way. 

thank you for reading.

[mellowmadds]

Taste Testing | Ethan Landry

Ethan Landry/Reader

Summary: slushies and sleepovers don’t mix

Warnings: slight cussing

Word Count: 707

pure fluff (no description of reader so everybody can enjoy!)

..••°°°°••.. °°••....••°°

Sleepovers at the Carpenter house seemed to turn into a weekly thing. However, getting to spend any alone time with your boyfriend felt more like a challenge due to the core four always sticking together. Instead of getting to the Carpenter’s apartment on time Ethan took it upon himself to plan a small date before the scheduled weekly sleepover.

“Red is cherry flavored and blue is raspberry” Ethan read out loud while he stared too intently at the menu above the ice cream counter.

“Are we sure we want slushies instead of ice cream?” you asked while focusing on all of the delicious looking homemade ice cream. Ethan laughed while thinking back to the conversation you guys had earlier that same day.

“You were literally googling to see if any places nearby sold slushies while we were walking back from econ.” he stated before ordering two slushies one red and one blue. You thanked the lady behind the counter while putting some cash into the tip jar while Ethan paid over at the register. You guys walked out of the small ice cream parlor and down the street to the local park where you finished up the slushies and talked about your upcoming assignments in econ.

“Where the hell were you guys we’ve been waiting to start the movie” Tara exclaimed while throwing her hands up in the air pretending to be mad despite the huge smile on her face. As you and Ethan sat in your usual spot on the couch Mindy couldn’t help but notice the slight change in color on both of your lips.

“Why the fuck are your lips purple y/n?” Mindy laughed as she took a sip of her drink.

“Purple? What do you mean?” You asked confused before taking out your phone and opening the camera app.

“Jeez so are yours” Anika said pointing over towards Ethan.

“Pur- wait me too?” Ethan asked before leaning over looking into your small phone camera.

“What kind of weird ass food did you two eat?” Chad laughed while walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn.

“Nothing weird just slushies” You said, handing your phone over to Ethan who was trying to scrub the purple color off his lips.

“Purple slushies? I didn’t know they made grape flavored slushies” Sam entered the conversation clearly intrigued by what was being said in the other room before placing two boxes of pizza on the coffee table.

“I had the blue one though which was raspberry flavor” You said clearly confused.

“And I had the red one” Ethan chimed back into the conversation before placing your phone back in your backpack.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense” Anika said while grabbing a slice of pizza.

“Oh my god” Mindy said while trying to hold in her laughter.

“Y/n what did you and Ethan do today?” Sam asked, smirking while looking between the both of you.

“We went to the park and then we came here” You said, still clearly confused as to why the core four were so invested in this conversation.

“And what did you do at the park?” Tara spoke once again smiling as she thought to herself just how clueless you two could be.

“We drank our slushies?” Ethan stated but it came out sounding more like a question.

“And then?” Sam asked, laughing before finally sitting down and grabbing herself a slice of pizza. As you come to realize why your lips are actually purple you turned to Ethan giving him an embarrassing look.

“Do you think that’s why our lips are purple?” He whispered before turning to look back at the group.

“Okay now show us what color your tongues are” Chad laughed while throwing popcorn at the two of you.

“Shut up” You said before jokingly sticking your tongue out at Chad. While everyone laughed Tara threw her arms in the air once again before yelling at everyone to be quiet so that she could finally start playing the movie. The rest of the night was filled with laughter and this specific night would later turn into a core memory for the two of you to always look back on and get a good laugh out of.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

The trio are currently at a gas station. Y/N is on the phone taking an urgent phone call while the boys are looking at a map, spread out on the roof of the Impala. "Okay, I think we found a way we can bypass that construction east of here" Sam tells Y/N as she hangs up the phone and walks towards the boys. "We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought" Dean adds and notices the sad look on her face.

"Yeah. Problem is, I can't come with you guys" She says in a serious tone and they look at her confused. "Wait what?" Dean asks her as she looks down at her phone. "I just got a call from an old friend. His father was killed and he thinks might be our kind of thing" She tells them.

"If it's okay with you guys. I can take a bus back to Indiana, get my bike, deal with the situation and meet up with you guys next week" She suggest and Dean shakes his head. "What?" Sam asks her confused. "We'll go with you" Dean insists. "Look fellas, I don't wanna put you two out of your way..." She trails off but Sam cuts her off.

"No, Y/N. We're family. We're not gonna leave you just like that." He assures her and she sighs. "Believe me, he never would've called, never, if he didn't need us" She says exasperated. "Okay...here" Dean hands her his keys. "You take us there" He tells her and she nods, taking it and jumping in the front seat, Dean gets in shotgun and Sam is still there stunned.

"Come on. You coming or what?!" Dean calls out for his brother who sighs, getting in the back as Y/N starts the ignition, putting baby in drive and they're off.

Some time later while Y/N is driving to Cape Girardeau, Missouri. Dean, who's residing in the passenger seat. His curiosity got the best of him and he asked, "By 'old friend'...you mean....?" He asks her, cocking his eyebrow suggestively. "A friend that's not new" She retorts sarcastically with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, thanks" Sam shoots back sarcastically chuckling as Dean rolls his eyes. "So his names Christian, huh?" Dean asks pressingly, crossing his arms over his chest. Sam's eyebrows quirk up in the backseat at this, now realizing that his brother is jealous. "You never mentioned him" Sam adds teasingly.

Y/N gives her best friend a knowing look in the rearview and he hides his snicker. "Didn't I?" She responds dryly, not daring to look at them as she drives. "No" Dean says. "Yeah, we went out" Y/N confirms causally. "You mean you actually dated someone? For more than one night?" Sam asks her surprised.

Not trying to offend her but just surprised because Y/N was never much of the dating type as far as he knew. Y/N knew he didn't mean this offensively but still, "Am I speaking a language you two aren't not getting here?" She scoffs annoyed. "Jeez, sorry." Sam chuckles, putting his hands up in surrender.

"I was working a job in Athens, Ohio. He was finishing up college. We went out for a couple weeks" Y/N explains vaguely as the boys chuckle. Dean however was getting that burning feeling in his chest again, he clears his throat before asking.

"And..?" Y/N shakes her head, basically saying 'Nothing more to say'. "Look, it's terrible about his dad but it kind of sounds like a standard car accident" Dean tells her honestly. "Yeah, I'm not seeing if it fits what we do" Sam adds and a thought pops up in Deans head. "Which by the way, how does he know what we do?" Dean asks curiously.

Y/N looks over at him with a straight face, not answering. This look alone informs the boys how he knows. Their faces contort in disbelief and Y/N prepares herself for the chewing out she's about to get. "You told him? You told him, the secret?" Dean asks shocked and she doesn't answer. "Our big family number one rule: We do what we do and we shut up about it!" Dean shouts in frustration and disappointment.

"For a year and a half, I do nothing but lie to Jessica. And you got out with this dude in Ohio a couple times and you tell him everything!" Sam rants just as disappointed as Dean. Y/N clenches her jaw at his statement. "I did say I'd go myself. So can it with the slut shaming" She shoots back and Sam snaps his mouth shut.

Not realizing how what he said sounded. "Princess...we're not slut shaming you" Dean says apologetically. "Yeah, Y/N. I would never do that. I'm so sorry for making you feel like that. It's just- you told him" Sam apologizes sincerely.

Y/N sighs knowing they're right, turning up the music on the stereo to drown out the tension in the vehicle.

(Authors Note: Just a quick option of who you want to imagine Christian as. I initially went with Rome Flynn. Or you can go with Désiré Mia. Readers choice.)

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The boys and Y/N pull up to the office where her ex-boyfriend worked at. "Jimmy, too close to this. Those guys were friends of yours" A man talking to two African American men says. "Again, I'm very sorry for your loss" He tells Christian sincerely before walking off.

Christian turns around disappointed, his face dropping when he sees Y/N. Y/N gives him a little nod with a small smile. "Y/N" He says surprised. "Hey Christian" She says softly as he walks towards them. The two former lovers share a long heated lingering stare, Deans eyes glance between the two of them, his heart dropping.

The burning sensation he usually feels in his chest is back but this time. It's worse, like hot molten lava bubbling up. His jaw clenches. Sam slightly smirks at the exchange between Y/N and Christian, realizing he probably meant a lot to Y/N for her to tell him about their secret. He then glances over at his brother who is desperately trying to hide his fuming.

Y/N clears her throat before introducing the boys, "This is my best friend, Sam. And his brother, Dean. We all grew up together" Y/N tells him and he reaches over to shake their hands. "Christian" He introduces himself, extending his hand to Sam, who shakes it with a smile.

Going over to Dean, he takes his hand, clenching his jaw a bit, he squeezes it harder than he meant to. Christian winces a bit at the grip but recovers, now a bit uneasy by Deans presence. "I'm so sorry about your dad, Chris" She says sincerely. "Yeah...me too" He says sadly. The two can't stop staring at each other and Sam notices this, a slight smirk on his face.

________________________________

Later that night, they're at Christian's house. "My mothers in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her for a couple weeks. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened" Christian explains them, walking into the living room with a tray of hot tea and four mugs.

He rests it down on the table to pour it for them, his back towards them as they sit on the couches. Sam and Dean on one and Y/N on another. "She was worried about Dad" He tells them. "Why?" Y/N asks. "He was scared. He was seeing things" He tells her. "Like what?" Y/N asks.

"He swore he saw an awful looking black truck following him" He tells them, turning with two mugs in his hand. "A truck? Who was the driver?" Sam asks. "He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck" He tells him, handing one mug to Sam and another to Y/N. "He said it would appear and disappear" He continues to explain.

Going back for another mug for Dean, handing it to him. "Thanks" They all say gratefully. "And, in the accident, Dads truck was dented, like it had been slammed into something big" He finishes and takes a seat next to Y/N. "And you're sure this sent wasn't there before?" Dean asks.

"He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing." Christian tells him firmly. "It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks from Dads car leading right...to the edge where he went over" He explains, tears brimming in his eyes, his voice cracking.

Y/N rests her mug down immediately, placing her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Deans jaw unconsciously clenches at the gesture. Christian looks at Y/N with a tearful gaze, she offers him a small sad smile that he returns."One set of tracks. His." He tells her. "Okay. And the first person killed was a friend of your fathers?" She asks him calmly.

"Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad: 'He lost control of his car' " He explains to her and she nods, taking her hand off of his shoulder. "Now can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?" Dean asks him.

"No" Christian responds shaking his head. "And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?" Sam asks a bit confused and Christian scoffs. "When you say it aloud like that...Listen. I'm a little skeptical about this ghost stuff...or...whatever it is you guys are into" He says a bit warily, his gaze moving over to Y/N.

Chuckling humorlessly, Y/N looks at the boys. "Skeptical? If I remember. I think you said I was nuts" Y/N says a bit bitterly, her mind flashing back to memories of their break up. "That was then" Christian says firmly, an apologetic guilty look on his face. "Hmm" She just nods, swallowing the lump in her throat, as the boys shift in their seats awkwardly, sipping their teas simultaneously.

Christian then sighs and says, "I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you" He tells her and the sound of a door opening interrupts their conversation. A middle aged, Caucasian woman walks through the door, surprised by the presence of the three hunters.

"Mom" Christian says relieved, getting up from next to Y/N. "Where have you been? I was so worried" He says worried. "I had no idea you had invited friends over" His mom says. "Uh, mom. This is Y/N. A friend of mine from....college" He stutters a bit introducing Y/N, making her heart drop. "And this is her childhood friends Sam and Dean. They're brothers" He then introduces the boys.

"Well, I, uh, won't interrupt you" His mom says, before going to go upstairs but Y/N stops her. "Mrs. Robinson. We're sorry for your loss" She says sincerely, offering her a small smile as Christian puts a hand on his mothers shoulder comfortingly. "We'd like to talk to you for a minute, if you don't mind" She says sweetly.

Mrs. Robinson, clearly distraught. "I'm really not up to that just now" She says quickly before walking up the stairs. Christian is hurt seeing his mother like this and Y/N sighs, a bit disappointed. Looking back at the boys who give her a look of sympathy.

________________________________

The next day, Christian called Y/N and informed her that Jimmy was killed. The boys and Y/N go to a crash site and as they approach the scene to see Christian arguing with Todd, the man from the office "Jimmy meant something to this town. He was one of our best. We don't be the same without him" Todd tells him.

"Our best seem to be dropping like flies. Clayton, my father, Jimmy" Christian snaps at him. "What is it exactly you want me to do?" Todd asks him. "Well how about closing this section of the road, for starters" Christian shoots back in anger. "Close the main road, the only road in and out of town?" Todd scoffs.

"Accidents do happen, Christian. That's what they are. Accidents" Todd assures him firmly as the boys and Y/N approach them. "Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car? See if it was pushed?" Y/N asks the officer, her tone serious. "Who's this?" Todd asks Christian.

"Y/N L/N and her friends, Sam and Dean Winchester. Family friends." Christian introduces them. "This is Mayor Harold Todd" He introduces the mayor to the trio and he nods at them. "There's one set of tire tracks. One. Doesn't point to foul play" Todd tells them as they look at the wreckage.

"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent-" Christian argues but Todd cuts him off. "Indifferent?" Todd bellows offended, knowing where he's getting at. "Would you close the road if the victims were white?" Christian blurts out, his face stone cold as the mayors face drops.

The boys and Y/N glance between the two, unsure what to say. "You're suggesting I'm racist, Christian" Todd says in disbelief. "I'm the last person you should talk to like that" He says. "And why is that?" Christian snaps. Todd looks as if he's contemplating whether or not to say anything and just says, "Why don't you ask your mother?" Now walking away leaving Christian is confused by this.

________________________________

Later the boys and Y/N are at their motel room, putting on their suit and ties while Y/N is already dressed in her white blouse with her black blazer and pencil skirt. Currently by the window, smoking a cigarette as the boys button up their shirts. "I'll say this for him, he's fearless" Sam tells Y/N.

"Mhm" she responds dryly, taking a drag from her cigarette and dusting in in the ashtray. "Bet he tried to kick you ass a couple times and lost" Dean shoots her a smug grin and she rolls her eyes, scoffing in laughter as she exhales the smoke from the corner of her lips.

"You'd win your money" She says, laughing. "What's interesting is, you guys never really look at each other at the same time" Sam teases her. "You look at him when he's not looking, he checks you out when he looks away" Dean adds, trying to hide his bitter tone and Y/N glares at the both of them.

"It's just an interesting observation..in a ...you know...observationally way" Sam says sheepishly. Fixing his tie. "You think we might have some more pressing issues here fellas?" She snaps, tired of hearing about her ex. She outs the cigarette in the tray, huffing in annoyance. "Hey, if we're hitting a nerve-" Dean goes to say but Sam cuts him off.

"-maybe Chrissy can do it for you" Sam adds with a laugh, making mock kissy faces at her and Y/N blushes, throwing a pillow at him, which he quickly dodges, laughing hysterically. Not often Sam is the one teasing Y/N, usually it's Y/N teasing Sam like an annoying little sister but Sam has his brotherly moments with Y/N, relishing in her discomfort.

"I hate you two!" She groans, walking out of the motel room while Sam snickers. The whole time Dean was wreathing in disgust at the thought of Y/N and Christian together for some reason, he knows his feelings are growing day in and day out for Y/N, to the point he can't deny them, even to himself.

Would he ever admit that to her? Fuck no, she'll probably reject him on spot is what he keeps telling himself. Meanwhile Y/N is conflicted about the two men. Seeing Christian brought up some old feelings that weren't really resolved the day of their break up when she left town.

She solely believes in her heart that Dean would never look at her that way, chalking up her feelings for him as a childish crush. Yes, Christian was her first love. There's no doubt in her mind about that. But what she used to feel for Christian couldn't compare to what she feels for Dean.

She hasn't admitted her feelings to herself yet, but sooner or later, she's gonna have to face it.

________________________________

The boys and Y/N walk down a pier to see two elderly men eating lunch, "Excuse me, are you Ron Stubbins?" Dean asks the man in a ball cap, sitting next to African American man. Ron, the man in the ball cap nods in confirming? "You were friends with Jimmy Anderson, sir?" Y/N adds sweetly. "Who are you?" Ron asks them.

"We're with Mr. Anderson's insurance company. Just here to dot the I's and cross the T's" Dean says. "We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?" Sam asks. "What do you mean 'unusual' ?" Ron responds confused. "Well, visions, hallucinations.." Y/N begins to explains.

"It's all part of a medical examination kind of thing. Very standard" Dean adds to lower their suspicions. "What company you say you were with?" Ron asks suspiciously. "All National Mutual" Y/N responds, pulling out a badge from her blazer to show them. "Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? Big, black truck?" Dean asks.

"What the hell are you talking about? You even speaking English?" Ron scoffs rudely but Y/N notices the man sitting next to Ron, his eyebrows shoot up in recognition at the description. "Son, this truck, a big, scary monster looking thing?" Ron's friend asks the three hunters.

Dean looks over at Y/N for confirmation and she nods, "Yeah, actually. We think so" Dean responds. "Hmm" Ron's friend nods. "What?" Y/N asks. "I have heard of a truck like that" Ron's friend says. "You have? Where?" Sam asks intrigued. "Not where, when." The man states.

"Back in the 60's, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty black truck" The man explains and the three hunters share a look. "They ever catch the guy who did it?" Dean asks. "Never found him. Hell, not sure they even looked" The man chuckles ironically and Y/N's heart sinks at how poorly they treated the deaths of these men.

"See, there was a time...this town wasn't too friendly to all its citizens." The man states, glancing at his friend and back to them. "Thank you" Y/N says gently, thanking them for their time before walking off with the boys.

"Truck" Dean says. "Keeps coming up, doesn't it?" Sam responds as they walk towards the Impala. "You know, I was thinking. You heard of the Flying Dutchman?" Y/N asks them. "Yeah, a ghost shit, infused with the captains spirit. It was basically part of him" Sam nods. "Yeah, so, what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know? A phantom truck? The extension of some bastard ghost reenacting pat crimes" Y/N suggests.

"The victims have all been black men" Dean agrees. "I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Christian and his family" Y/N says. "Alright, well, you work that angle. Go talk to him" Sam tells her. "Yeah, I will" She says. "Oh and, you might also want to mention that other thing?" Sam says, hiding his grin.

She turns to him confused, "What other thing?" She asks him. "The serious unfinished business" Sam teases chuckling and she rolls her eyes, looking down guiltily. "Y/N, what is going on between you two?" Dean asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. Y/N glances up at him, biting her lips nervously before responding.

"Alright, maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said" Y/N says vaguely. "Oh, okay" Sam nods, giving her a knowing look and she sighs, glancing back at Dean with a smug look on his face, trying to hide his jealousy before admitting. "Okay, a lot more. Maybe" She says and Sam chuckles.

"And I told him the secret about what we do and I shouldn't have" She admits, Sam nods understanding. "Look, girly, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime" Sam says gently. "Yeah, I don't" She retorts back. "It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended" She says sadly, looking back at the boys.

Dean couldn't help but feel a bit bad, now realizing she loved Christian. Envious at the fact that Christian won her heart and he probably never will. Sam has a smug knowing look on his face, Dean covering up his discomfort with a smile. "Would you two stop? Blink or something" She snaps at them. "You loved him" Sam voices their realizations.

"Oh, God" She groans, turning to open the backseat door to the impala., only to realize it's locked. "Open the door" She orders him. "You were in love with him, but you dumped him?" Dean asks her, a bit confused at this. She looks at him, a grimace on her face while swallowing the lump building in her throat.

She doesn't answer them and realization dawns on them again. "Oh, wow" Sam says lowly. "He dumped you" Dean says with a bit of pity in his voice while Sam's stands there, his mouth agape in shock. "Open the door" She clenches her jaw, Dean nods quickly. Opening the door with the key, and she jumps in, slamming the door shut a bit angrily but not too hard.

"Get in the car fellas!" She bellows, snapping Sam out of his shock and he quickly gets in. He feels terrible now for teasing her so much about Christian, knowing that he broke her heart doesn't sit too well with him. The protective side of him just wants to break Christian's face but at the same time, he thinks about if he ever told Jessica the truth.

Would she have reacted the same way? Probably. But would she have dumped him? He doesn't even want to think about the possibility. Meanwhile, Dean tightens his grip around the steering wheel while pulling out of the spot he was parked in. The knowledge of Y/N getting her heart broken by that dick just builds a fury inside of him.

God knows he doesn't deserve her love but how could someone who earned her love, just toss her away like that. Both him and Sam know Y/N isn't one to fall in love easily. But when she does, clearly she falls hard because she told Christian the big secret.

"You don't have to go talk to him, we could do it for you" Dean tells her gently, looking at her through the rearview mirror as they drive to Christian's house. Her gaze falls over to him, she gives him a thankful smile before shaking her head, "It's okay, honestly. I'm a big girl." Y/N assures them. "You sure?" Sam asks her and she chuckles nodding.

"I'm sure. It's water under the bridge. And to be frank, I'm wary of the fact that now you two know who dumped who, that you might want to break his pretty face" She snickers and they laugh, shaking their heads.

"Good point" Sam chuckles, giving her a reassuring smile. He pulls over to the front of Christian's house and she gets out. "If anything goes sideways, give us a buzz!" Dean shouts from the car as she walks up the porch, honking his horn. She turns and gives them a mock salute, a wide smile on her face.

They wave before driving off towards their motel, as the Impala disappears into distance, she allows her fake smile to drop. Sighing as she turns to Christians house before walking up the porch and knocking on his door. A couple seconds later, Christians answers with a partial surprised look on his face.

"Y/N. Hey, come on in" He invites her in, the tension already thick in the air. "So, you busy or...?" She asks him. "Uh, the papers doing a tribute to Jimmy. Uh, I was just going through his stuff..." He tells her, sighing as he walks to his desk with his work and she follows behind him. "..his awards. Trying to find the words" He says sadly.

"That's gotta be tough" She says pitifully. "For years, this family owned the paper. The Dorians. They had a whites only staff policy. After the sold it, Jimmy became the first black reporter. He didn't stop until he became editor." Christian explains to Y/N, showing her the work, she gives it back to him and he rests it on his desk.

"He taught me everything" He tells her and she nods. "Where're your friends?" Christian asks her curiously, a bit on edge still by Deans presence. He's not stupid, it's obvious Dean has feelings for Y/N. He's seen the way he looks at her and the way Y/N looks at him. Clearly there's mutual feelings there but with the time he knew Y/N.

He can tell she has feelings for Dean too, though she might not have admitted to herself yet, but it's there. Even though they might not be together anymore, he can't help but feel a bit envious knowing that they way Y/N looks at Dean, couldn't compare to the way she looked at him.

"Not here" She stutters, struggling to come up with a good answer. Christian relaxes a bit and chuckles, "Alright. So what brings you here?" He asks her smiling, his eyes trailing up her body slightly, taking in how sexy she looks with that office attire on.

Her curves hugged in just the right places by that skirt, a bit of cleavage that's peeking through her blouse. "Trying to find a connection between the three victims" She tells him. "By the way, did you talk to your mom about what Todd said about not being a racist?" She asks him and he nods. "I did. She didn't wanna talk about it" He tells her.

"Right" She sighs, disappointed. They both stand across from each other in the hallway. The tension in the air is thick. A thought then comes to her head. "So just then, why'd you ask where my friends where?" She asks him, cocking her eyebrow curiously. "Nothing. Not important" Christian answers quickly, covering it up with a smile.

"Could it just be, without them here, it's just you and me. And not you, me, Sam and Dean. Which would be a lot easier" She points out bitterly. "It's not easier" He says defensively and she rolls her eyes. "Look-" He goes to assure her but she cuts him off. "No. Forget it. It's fine." She snaps.

"We'll keep it strictly business" She says, giving him a curt nod. Going over to his desk and picking up some papers. He scoffs in disbelief. "I forgot you do that" He says ironically. "Do what?" She asks him confused, turning to him. "Oh...whenever we get— what's the word? 'Close' ? Anywhere in the neighborhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off." He shoots back sarcastically.

"Or make some joke. Or find anyways to shut the door on me" He finishes and she chuckles humorlessly. Tossing the papers on the table, getting up in his face, "Oh that's hilarious, see I'm not the one who took that big final door and slammed it behind me" She retorts bitterly and his face drops.

"Wait a minute-" He goes to say but she cuts him off. "And I'm not the one who took the key and buried it!" She growls angrily. "Are we done with this metaphor?" Christian says calmly and she sighs. "Look, all I'm saying is I was totally upfront with you back then and you nailed me with it" She says and he starts.

"The girl I'm with, the woman I'm hoping might be in my future tells me she professionally pops ghost!" Christian retorts and Y/N's heart sinks, the argument growing as their faces get closer and closer to each other. The heat of their bodies merging slowly.

"Those aren't the words I used!"

"And that she has to leave to go find who killed her mom!-".

"I did!"

"All I could think was. If you want out, find, don't tell me this insane story!-"

"It was the truth, Christian! And I noticed it didn't so sound insane the minute you thought I could help!"

Y/N screams in frustration and pain, pulling away as Christian continues his defense.

"Back then, I thought you just wanted to dump me" He says, putting his hand on his forehead and she chuckles ironically. "Woah, now let's not forget who dumped who, okay?" She retorts sassily, a angry smile on her face. Christians eyes snap down to hers, "I thought that was what you wanted!" He argues. "Well, it wasn't!" She argues back and guilt succumbs Christians heart.

"I didn't mean to hurt you" He say apologetically, his voice cracking. "Well, you did!" She retorts pained, clenching her jaw, a habit she picked up from Dean over time. "I'm sorry!" He apologizes sincerely. "Yeah, me too" She snaps back and the two share a heated stare. The tension in the air is thicker than ever. Their eyes glances from each others lips back to each others eyes before they start making out furiously.

(CUT!!!🎬 Warning⚠️: There's smut below here. I was contemplating whether or not to write smut of Y/N and Christian, but I decided to go with it cuz why the hell not lol. Skip if you'd like, it doesn't really add to the plot. Please be kind as it's my first time posting smut I've written and I'm intentionally writing it bad because this ain't Dean so💀. Okay, back to the story. ACTION!!🎬)

The second Y/N kissed Christian. It didn't feel quite right, not how it used to be. They pulled away from passionate angry kiss, staring into each others eyes breathlessly. Her mind flickered to Dean for some odd reason. She pushes him to the back of her head, reminding herself that it will never happen and allowed herself to get lost in the lust and passion with Christian, reattaching her lips back onto his.

They walk back towards the desk, still making out furiously. She pushes off his sweater and pulls off his T-shirt as he unbuttons her blouse, her ass hitting the desk as he slides the skirt down, sitting the ground. She tosses her blouse to the side and Christian attaches his lips to her neck, moaning almost instantly as he nibbles on her all too sensitive spot.

Her hands fumble with the buckle of his jeans and she quickly slides it down, leaving him in his boxers, he presses his clothed erection against her drenched panties and she moans softly. "Chris.." Biting her lips, he unbuckles her bra and buries his face on her exposed chest. "Always so fucking gorgeous" He groans, attacking her erect nipple with his mouth and she rolls her head back in pleasure.

She quickly pulls his boxers down, allowing it to drop to the floor. He steps out of it and Y/N fists his erect cock in her hand. "Bedroom. Now" she orders his and he nods quickly, out of breath. He puts his hands at the back of her thighs and she wraps her legs around him as he hoists her up, walking upstairs to his bedroom. He locks the door behind him with one hand, holding Y/N up with his other.

She jumps down and pushes him onto the bed, fully naked. She slides her panties off, straddling him and reattaching her lips back onto his. She grinds against his hard shaft slowly and teasingly, circling her hips. "Fuck babe. Always a damn tease" Christian groans, holding onto her hips as she smirks down at him.

She lowers herself down onto him, the familiar feeling of him filling her as. They both roll their heads back, moaning as she bounces up and down his torso. "Oh god, Chris!" She moans his name. "That's it, y/n/n. Just like that" He urges her, guiding her hips up and down his shaft. She leans down and kisses his chest before working her way up his neck and back to his lips.

He then flips them over, rolling Y/N onto her back, now taking control. She gasps at the sudden change in position, gripping onto his back. Digging her nails into his flesh as he moves in and out of her. Hitting her special spot. He buries his face in her neck as he quickens his pace, moaning and whisper sweet nothings into his ear like he used to.

Usually it turns her on but right now, Y/N just wanted a release. "Don't stop" She moans as he thrusts into her quickly. He then pulls her up, now sitting as she straddles his hips. She lifts off of him and back on, riding him quickly as she rubs her clit. The familiar feeling of her orgasm climbing up to her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-" She gasps. "Yeah, me too baby" He groans. Looking deeply into her eyes, "Soooo fucking tight" He moans, loudly. The coil snaps inside of her at the sound of him moaning. "Fuck! I'm cumming!" She screams in ecstasy, pushing Christian over to his own climax. Filling her up with his hot seed, his muscles tighten from the feeling on Y/N's wetness clench around him.

(End Of Smut!!)

Usually times like this, she'd be freaking out but thank god for the pill, right? They both fall back onto the bed, breathlessly. Christian reaches over into his nightstand and grabs a towel below. Taking it and wiping off his remnants from Y/N. She chuckles slightly when he does her. He was always big on aftercare.

"Thanks" She says softly and his gaze moves over to her. "No worries, love" He assures her with a smile and then wipes himself off. Grabbing the blanket that's on the base of the bed and throwing it over the both of them.

He then wraps his arm around Y/N, as she lays her head on his chest. Silently trying to catch her breath still. "We should fight more often" Christian mutters, breaking the silence. Y/N chuckles at this. "Absolutely" She responds in a sultry tone, her minding drifting to Dean again.

She can't shake the guilt she's feeling right now. I mean, she shouldn't feel guilty right? Deans not her boyfriend and he doesn't see her like that. So why is her mind on him, when she's in bed with another man. "Actually, we were always pretty good at fighting. This, we were good at" Christian points out, acknowledging their current position.

"It's all the other stuff...not so much" He adds and she sighs as he runs his hand up and down her arm gently. "Hey, I tried. I told you who I really was. It was a big first for me" She defends and he nods. "Why'd you tell me?" He asks curiously. "I don't know" She chuckles and so does he. "I...I guess I couldn't lie to you" She says softly.

"Y/N...You told me that story. It scared the hell out of me. I thought you were nuts. Dangerous even." He tells her honestly, looking down at her. She looks up at him and she scoffs lightly. "Actually.." He pulls himself up, her with him, now leaning against the bed head. "...maybe I was looking for a reason to walk away" He admits.

"In your work...um...You told me you see some horrible things. Things that can't be explained. You deal with them. But working things out with you?" He says jokingly and she chuckles. "Im a scary one alright" She says humorously and he laughs softly nodding. They both sigh as she lays her head back on his chest.

Christian runs his hand up and down her arm. "Well, usually, things get worked when you really want them to" Christian says and Y/N sighs. "Yeah, but I'm still really involved with my dads work" She tells him honestly and he sighs. "No more excuses okay? From you or me" Christian says and she looks down at his lips before nodding.

"Okay" She says and they share a kiss. The ringing of Y/N's phone interrupts them. She reaches over for it to see Deans contact, before answering it.

________________________________

Ten Minutes Earlier:

Sam and Dean are in their motel room. It's been hours since they dropped off Y/N and she hasn't called or texted. Sam assumed that the former couple probably made up and so did Dean. However Dean is fuming at the thought. Currently pacing the room nervously while Sam sits on his bed, reading a book.

"You can't pace your feelings away" Sam assures his brother, not looking up from his book. Deans gazes snaps over to his brother. "What?" He feigns confusion and Sam rolls his eyes, giving his brother a knowing look. "You know what? I'm sick of this, I'm gonna just say it" Sam groans exasperatedly snaps his book shut, resting it next to him.

"You have feelings for Y/N, Y/N has feelings for you. You two dumbasses are too stubborn to admit it so you hide it from each other. And when one sees the other with someone else, one gets jealous" Sam breaks it down to Dean as if he's talking to a 5 year old. The elder Winchester looks at his younger brother stunned. Unsure what to say.

"Look man, I get it. You're scared to admit it. I saw the way you were when she got electrocuted. You were heartbroken. You comfort her when she needs it. She does the same for you, you two are good for each other. Y/N is not gonna wait around for you, man." Sam advises his brother and he sighs, looking down.

"And you getting jealous every time she's with someone not is healthy, vice versa. So either nut up or shut up, cuz you're gonna regret not telling her." He finishes in a fatherly tone, one hand on his hip, his other finger waving it at Dean slightly. Dean raises his eyebrows at his brothers new found wisdom about relationships. Dean being Dean, refuses to believe that Y/N would see him like that.

"Are we done with this touchy feely crap now?" Dean snaps, clenching his jaw and Sam sighs, rolling his eyes. "Whatever man, be like that. Don't say I didn't warn you" Sam huffs in annoyance, going back to reading his book. Dean looks over at his brother apologetically, hesitantly taking a seat next to him.

"Look man. I care about her. She's one of the most important people in my life. I can't let some stupid crush get in the way of our friendship" Dean admits and Sam looks back up at his brother in disbelief. "You're kidding me right?" Sam scoffs. "Yo knucklehead, she's been-" Sam goes to spill the beans about Y/N being in love with Dean her whole life but Deans phone rings.

"One sec" He puts up his finger and answer it. "Hello?.....Okay sir thank you." Dean says into the phone firmly and Sam looks at him confused. Dean hangs up the phone with a curt nod and informs Sam. "Todd's dead" He tells him. "Holy crap" Sam gasps. Dean quickly dials Y/N's number and a couple seconds later she answers.

Back at Christian's house:

"Yeah?" Y/N answers and Dean tells her Todd was killed. "You're kidding" She gasps and Christian looks at her confused.

________________________________

The next morning, Y/N approaches the crash site that's swarming with police while Sam and Dean are talking to a deputy. They spot her and Sam informs the officer, "She's with us". She walks up to the boys. "Where were you last night?" Dean asks, clenching his jaw. She doesn't answer and Sam gives her a sly grin.

"You didn't make it back to the motel" Sam points out. "Well.." She sighs, looking over at Dean guilty. His eyes drop to the floor to avoid the contact, something he never does. "I'm guessing you guys worked things out" Sam says smugly and she shoots him a swift side eyed glare as she puts his hands up in mock surrender chuckling.

"We'll be working things out when we're 90" She scoffs and Sam laughs while Dean feels like his heart is gonna explode. "So what happened?" She asks them, changing the subject. "Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped. It's like something ran over him" Dean explains. "Something like a truck?" She asks him.

"Yep" Sam answers. "Tracks?" She asks. "Nope" Dean answers and she sighs."What was the mayor doing here anyway?" She asks the boy. "He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago." Sam informs her. "But he's white, doesn't fit the pattern" Dean says and Y/N nods in agreement. "Killings didn't happen up on the road. That doesn't fit either"Sam tells them

________________________________

Y/N, Dean and Christian are back at the office doing research. Christian pours two cups of coffee. Handing Y/N one, "Here" He offers her with a smile and she smiles back, "Thanks" She responds and Christian goes to hand Dean the other one but he shakes his head, showing him  his already fresh made cup of coffee. "I'm good" Dean says, giving him a tight smile. Doing a terrible job at hiding his glare.

Christian just nods, feeling a bit awkward while Y/N is oblivious to the two men glaring at each other. Christian takes a seat next to her and rests his hand on her shoulder, slightly rubbing her arm comfortingly. He could feel Dean's daggers practically go through his hand. If his eyes had actual daggers, Christians hand would need to be amputated stat.

Christian smirks victoriously at Deans discomfort, looking at the computer that Y/N is researching on. She subconsciously shrugs Christians hands off without realizing and reaches to the back of her next to rub out the soreness from their activities last night. Dean snickers lightly and smirks into his cup of coffee. Christian goes to help her but she puts her hand up indicating she's fine and his smile slightly drops.

He nods understandably and sighs while Dean basically giggles into his cup. "So I'm trying to find some link between those killings back in the 60's and what's going on now. There wasn't a lot about it in the paper. You got anything, Dean?" She asks him, sipping her coffee and he shakes his head.

"Nah, not much here" He responds. "Not surprising. Probably minimal police work too. Back then, equal justice under the law wasn't too literal around here" Christian tells her and she sighs. Suddenly her phone rings and she gestures to Dean to come closer to hear, it's Sam.

"Yeah?" Y/N answers, flipping the phone up and putting it on speaker. "Okay. The courthouse records show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family, for like, 150 years" Sam says into the phone, Y/N's eyebrows quirk at up the mention of the name Dorian.

"Dorian?" She asks. "Yeah" Sam confirms. She then turns to Christian. "Didn't you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?" She asks Christian and he nods in confirmation. "Along with most of everything else around here. Real pillars of the town" He tells her. She gives Dean a nod and he leans forward on the computer and starts searching.

He then pulls up an article labeled, 'Dorian Still Missing'. "That's interesting" Dean mutters. "What?" Sam asks over the speaker phone. "This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of '63. The case was investigated but never solved." " Dean tells him. Y/N notices something and nudges him.

"Look at the date. Thats right around the time the string of murders were going on" She points out and he gives her a look of impress. "Sharp eye princess" He smiles and she tries to hide her blush, "Thanks charming" She smiles back, Christian taking in the exchange between the two "friends".

"Well, I pulled a bunch of paper up on the Dorian place. Must've been in bad shape when the mayor bought it" Sam tells them. "Why's that?" Y/N asks confused. "The first thing he did was bulldoze the place" Sam informs them. "Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?" Y/N asks Christian and he nods.

"It was a big deal. One of the oldest local houses left. He made the front page" He informs her. "You got a date?" Dean asks Sam. "Uh....the 3rd of last month" Sam tells them and Y/N looks up the article of the mayor bulldozing the house. "Mayor Todd bulldozed see the Dorian family home on the 3rd. The first killing was the very next day" She tells them boys.

Y/N and Dean share a knowing look at this.

________________________________

Later at their motel, Dean and Y/N are doing more research on the Dorian family while Sam is out getting dinner. Y/N could feel Deans pensive stare on her and finally breaks the ice. "What's wrong, Dean?" She breathes out. "What? Nothing" Dean catches himself and lies causally. She doesn't bite the bait but instead presses.

"You've been giving me that judgmental look all day" She urges, twirling her pen in her hand and he sighs. "Do you still love him?" He asks bluntly. Y/N is taken back by this. Expecting a lecture or an 'I told you so'. But not this. She stutters on her words and his heart drops a bit. "I- No" She answers confidently.

"Not that it would matter. But no. Do I care about him? Absolutely. But the love I had for him slowly died the day he tossed me aside." She assured him and Dean is relieved by her answer. "I mean, I can't really blame him. I would've thought I was nuts" She adds, chuckling a bit but Dean doesn't find it funny. "Come on charminggg" She teases him, taking her fingers and turning his frown upside down.

He snickers, lightly swatting her hand away. "You're lucky you're cute" He mutters to himself but she doesn't catch onto it. "What was that?" She asks innocently, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Nothing" He shakes his head, smiling. Her stomach starts to grumble a bit and as if on cue, so does Dean. "Damn, where's Sammy with the grub?" Dean groans and Y/N huffs.

"I swear, I'm taking the next food run" She groans in agreement. Y/N's phone then rings and without looking at the contact she answers. "L/N" She says into the speaker. "Y/N! Y/N!" Christian screams out of fear for Y/N, her instincts kick in and she looks over at Dean.

________________________________

Not too long after Christian called, Sam came back and they all immediately headed for Christians house to be informed that the big black truck was outside Christians house revving it's engine. Now all in the living room with Christian and his mom. Y/N hands him a cup of tea and he nervously takes it.

"Maybe you could throw a couple shots in that" He jokes lightly, giving her a weak smile but Y/N knows he isn't joking as she takes a seat next to him. "You didn't see who was driving the truck?" Dean asks them. "It seemed to be no one" Christian tells him and he sighs, looking over at Y/N as he sips his tea.

"Everything was moving so far. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?" He asks them. "It seems like. Whatever is controlling the truck, wants you afraid first" Y/N tells him apologetically. "Mrs. Robinson. Christian said that your husband saw the truck before he died" Sam says to Mrs. Robinson softly and she has a look of horror and recognition in her eyes.

"Mom?" Christian calls out for his mother. "Mhm. Oh, Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing" Mrs. Robinson tries to quickly cover it up. "Well, after tonight, we can be reasonably sure that he was seeing a truck" Y/N presses. "Mrs. Robinson. What happened tonight, you and Christian are marked. Okay? Your son could die. So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it" Y/N pleads with her gently.

"Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck" Mrs. Robinson shakily admits it. "Did he know who it belonged to?" Sam asks. "He thought he did" She says. "Who was that?" Dean asks. Mrs. Robinson took a deep breath before saying, "Cyrus. A man named Cyrus" She tells them, the three share shocked looks.

Y/N then pulls out a paper of the printing of the article and held it up to her. "Is this Cyrus?" She asks her. She nods but doesn't look at the picture. "Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago" She tells them and Y/N looks up at her. "How do you know he died Mrs. Robinson?" Y/N asks and she looks up guilty. "The paper said he went missing" She adds and the boys catch on.

"How do you know he died?" Dean presses. "We were all very young. I dated Cyrus for a while. I was also seeing Martin. In secret, of course...because interracial couples didn't go over too well then" She begins to explain and Christians face drops. "When I broke it off with Cyrus and he found out about Martin....I don't know, he changed. His hatred...His hatred was frightening" She adds fearfully.

"The string of murders" Sam says. "They were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done" She says tearfully taking a deep breath. "Martin and....Martin and I, we were gonna be married in that little church near here. But uh, last minutes we decided to elope because we didn't want the attention" Mrs. Robinson tells them, Christian battling the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes.

"And Cyrus?" Y/N asks. Mrs. Robinson tears up, holding her hand to her chest, "The day we set for the wedding was...the day someone set fire to the church..." She explains sobbing, "There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died" She finishes, sobbing as Y/N's heart drops at the thought.

Christian wraps his arms around his mother protectively. "Did the attacks stop after that?" Sam asks gently. "No. There was one more." She sobs, "One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him and..." She bawls into her sons arms.

"Why didn't he call the cops?" Dean asks and she laughs humorlessly. "This was 40 years ago" She says and he nods understandably. "He called on his friends. Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson. And they out Cyrus body into the truck and rolled it into the swamp at the edge of his land and all three of them kept that secret all these years" She explains tearfully as Christian comforts her.

"And now all three are gone" Sam says. "So is Mayor Todd" Dean adds. "Now he said that you of all people would know he's not a racist. Why would he say that?" Y/N asks gently. "He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done....he....he did nothing. Because he also knew what Cyrus had done" She tells them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Christian finally breaks his silence, tearfully. "I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect" Mrs. Robinson sobs. "Yes there is" Y/N says. Causing Christian to look over at her and Mrs. Robinson to hug her son tighter.

________________________________

"Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on poly centric cultural norms" Sam chuckles dryly as the trio lean against the Impala outside of Christians house. "So I guess we saved you from a boring existence" Dean jokes as they laugh. "Yeah. Occasionally, I miss boring" Sam admits.

"So, this killer truck-" Y/N goes to start but Sam cuts her off laughing. "I miss conversations that didn't start with 'This killer truck'" Sam chuckles as Dean and Y/N nod laughing in agreement. "Alright, well this Cyrus guy" Y/N retorts jokingly. "Yeah" Dean responds. "Evil on a level that it infected even his truck" She begins.

"And when he died, the swamp became his tomb and his spirit was dormant for 40 years" She finishes. "So what woke it up?" Sam asks. "The construction on his house...or the destruction" Dean points out. "Right" Y/N agrees. "Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless" Sam says.

"Mhm" Dean responds. "Like that theater in Illinois?" Y/N asks. "Yup" Dean responds nodding. "The guy who tears down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved" Dean says. "So now is spirit is awakened and out for blood" Y/N says.

"I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway?" Dean scoffs. "You guys know we're gonna have to dredge that body up from the swamp" Sam informs them and they look over at him with sly grins. "Man, you said it" Y/N chuckles as they laugh. "Yeah" Sam laughs and from the corner of Y/N's eye, she sees Christian walking towards the car.

"Hey" She greets him. "Hey. She's asleep" Christian informs them. "Now what?" He asks. "Well, you stay out and look after her. And we'll be back. Don't leave the house" Y/N instructs Christian and he smirks at her. "Don't go getting all authoritative on me. You know it turns me on" He teases her and she begins to blush lightly.

Sam behind them is snickering while Dean is clenching his jaw. She turns and shoots Sam a quick glare, who still still snickering, "Don't leave the house, please?" She pouts cutely and Christian chuckles. "You're killing me woman" He jokes and leans in to kiss her. She hesitantly returns the kiss, Dean glares daggers at Christian who is staring right back at him with a triumphant look in his eyes.

Dean clears his throat loudly while Sam smirks at the two and Y/N puts her hand up behind her, indicating 'One second'. Although the kiss didn't feel like it did before, she allowed it to consume her. When they let go of the kiss, Y/N takes a deep breath. "You fellas coming or what?" She says smugly as they let go.

Walking over to the Impala and jumping in.

________________________________

Later they're at the swamp, "Alright, let's get her up" Sam says as Dean hauls the black truck out of the swamp with a tractor. "Little more. Little more!" Y/N urges him to move forward a bit more. "Alright, stop!" Sam stops him as the truck reaches the edge and he puts the tractor in park.

Dean jumps down from the tractor, "Nice" Y/N compliments his driving skills. "Hell yeah" Dean retorts back cockily. "Now I get what he sees in you" Sam smirks. "What?" Y/N asks confused. "Come on, girl. Admit it. Even if you don't love him, he still loves you" He teases and Deans heart clenches.

"Aw, could we focus, please?" Y/N scoffs annoyed, opening Baby's truck. "I'm just saying, Y/N" Sam chuckles. "Yeah, well less saying more doing" Y/N snaps rolling her eyes as Sam chuckles. "Hold that" Dean hands Sam a flashlight. "Alright, what am I getting?" He asks, changing the subject. "Gas, flashlight" Y/N tells him.

"Got it, got it" Sam tells them and they walk to the truck with the supplies. "Alright, let's get this done" She says and they begin slowly approaching it, flashing the lights over the mucky rotting truck. Y/N share a look with the boys before quickly opening the drivers door to reveal the decaying corpse of Cyrus Dorian. They all groan in disgust.

"Alright, let's get to it" Dean says and they take the body out of the truck and begin drenching it in gas and salt. Lighting it aflame. "Think that'll do it?" Sam asks when suddenly in the distance infront of them, is a apparition of the big black truck, flashing its lights at them and revving its engine.

"I guess not" Y/N mutters ironically as they all stare at the vehicle in shock. "So burning the body had no affect on that thing?" Sam asks in confusion. "Sure it did, now it's really pissed" Dean shoots back. "But Cyrus' ghost is gone, right Dean?" Y/N asks. "Apparently not the part thats fused with the truck" Dean says and begins walking to his car.

"Where are you going?!" Y/N asks him confused and concerned. "I'm going for a little ride. Lead that thing away" He tells them. "What?!" Sam and Y/N exclaim in disbelief. "That rusted piece of crap. You guys gotta burn it!" He tells them as he jumps in baby. "How the hell are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?!" Y/N yells.

"I don't know! Figure something out!" He yells back, tossing his duffel to them and driving away in baby, the truck following behind him. "What the hell are we supposed to do?!" Y/N whisper yells and Sam gets an idea. "You got the case report and a map?" Sam asks her and she nods quickly, pulling it out of her jacket. "What're you doing?" She asks.

"The church he burnt down, it's hallow ground" He tells her and she catches on. They lay it across the ground and use their flashlight to look for whatever Sam is looking for in it. Meanwhile the truck is chasing Dean down an empty stretch. Y/N's phone rings and she quickly answers, "Hey, you gotta give us a minute. We're onto something" Y/N tells Dean quickly.

"I don't have a minute! Whatre we doing?!" He bellows through the phone urgently and Y/N puts it on speaker. "Uh, let us get back to you" Y/N hangs up and calls Christian. "Hey, Christian. Okay, I need some information and it has to be exactly right" She says into the phone and he obliges.

After the quick phone call for the church's location, Y/N calls Dean back. "Alright, Dean" She says quickly. "This better be good!" Dean shouts, the truck on his tail. "Where are you?" Sam asks. "In the middle of nowhere! With a killer truck on my ass. I mean it's like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus!" Dean retorts panicked.

"Dean, sweetie. Listen, it's important. We have to know exactly where you are" She tells him. "Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway!" He informs them, she can hear the truck in the background. "Okay, headed east?" Sam asks. "Yes!" Dean yells and suddenly the truck rams into his bumper, causing him to skid a bit.

"Son of a bitch" He grumbles. "Okay, uh.....turn right. Up ahead! Turn right!" Y/N tells him and Sam nods in confirmation. "You make the turn?" Sam asks. "Yeah I made the turn!" Dean yells. "You're gonna need to move this thing a little faster!" Dean urges them to hurry, the truck high on his tail.

"You see a road up ahead?" Y/N asks. "No!....wait! Yes! I see it!" Dean tells them. "Okay, turn left!" Sam instructs him. "What?!" He yells in confusion but listens, making the turn. The truck goes in the other direction. "Alright, now what?" He asks. "You need to go exactly seven tenths of a mile and stop" Sam orders him.

"Stop?!" Dean asks confused. "Exactly seven tenths, Dean" Y/N instills. "Seven tenths, seven tenths" Dean mutters to himself, tracking the distance with the speedometer. When he reaches seventh tenths of a mile, he swerves the car. Stopping in an empty lot. Now seeing the truck come into view. "Dean, you still there?" Sam asks.

"Yeah" Dean responds. "What's happening?" Y/N asks concerned. "It's just staring at me" Dean tells them. "What do I do?" He asks as the truck just stays there. "Just what's you are doing. Bringing it to you" Sam tells him. "Yeah" Dean says unsure when suddenly the truck revs again, driving straight towards Dean.

"Come on, come on" Dean stays, standing his ground as the truck comes crashing into the lot, disapparating into a white smoke around the Impala, he covers himself in fear only to see it's gone. He then takes a deep breath and puts the phone back to his ear. Sam and Y/N still on the other end. "Dean? You still there?" Y/N asks worried.

"Dean?" Sam calls out to his brother. "Where did it go?" Dean asks them confused and they breath out relieved. "Dean, you're where the church was" Sam informs him. "What church?" Dean is confused. "The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered those kids" Y/N tells him. "There's not a lot left" Dean says looking around.

"Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not" Y/N tells him. "Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed. So, we figured maybe that would get rid of it" Sam further explains. "Maybe? Maybe?!" Dean yells frustrated. "What if you were wrong?!" He yells.

"Huh" Y/N now realizes they didn't really consider that. "Honestly, that thought hadn't occurred to us" Sam says ironically and Dean hangs up.  "Well, it honestly that thought hadn't occur to me" Dean mocks his brothers statement, hitting his steering wheel in anger.

"I'm gonna kill 'em" His voice cracks.

________________________________

The next day, the boys are in the Impala waiting for Y/N as Christian walks her to the car. "My mother says to tell you thanks again" Christian tells her gratefully. "This is a better goodbye than last time" He tells her and she smiles sadly, the boys out of earshot.

"Yeah, well, maybe this time it'll be less permanent" Y/N half promises but Christian chuckles, giving her a knowing look. "You know what? I'm a realist. I don't see much hope for us, Y/N" He tells her honestly and she sighs, nodding understandingly. "Well, I've seen stranger things happen" She jokes and he smiles.

"Besides, I think someone else has got their eye on you" Christian smirks, nodding over to Dean who's shooting daggers at him lightly. Y/N realizes what Christian is getting at and scoffs. "Please, Dean? He's family" Y/N tries to lie but Christian sees through it. "I've seen the way you look at each other, Y/N. Gotta admit, I'm a little jealous myself because you never looked at me like that" He teases her and she looks down guiltily.

"Goodbye, Christian" She says sadly, giving him a hug. "I'll see you, Y/N. I will" He returns the hug, laying a kiss on her forehead. They share one last goodbye kiss before breaking the hug and Y/N walks over to baby, jumping in. Sniffling back a bit of tears, "Y/N.." Dean goes to comfort her when he notices it. "I'm fine, just drive" She assures him with a small smile as Sam looks at her, his heart grieving.

She knows that it wasn't meant to be either way, this is the way it's meant to be. Maybe now after finally resolving her feelings for Christian, maybe she'll finally come to terms with her feelings for Dean?

Only time will tell, I guess.

________________________________

[victimeyez]

For the drabbles thing, has there ever been a moment when Caius has worried that Tommy is dead, either because he or one of their clients took things too far? Im curious to know what his reaction would be, and if he would care at all about losing him.

AHHH thank you so much for the ask! This was fun to write. Nearly losing Tommy made Caius realize for the first time just how much he cared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay

Part of Professional//Victim

See tags for content warnings

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Things had been going good.Over a year in, and Tommy was a hit. They had enough requests for him to book out the next year, at least. 

So Caius did what he promised himself he would never do: he got sloppy. 

He managed to get Tommy in the car, sprawling him across the back.

“Give me your arm, come on.”

Tommy was breathing shallowly, and his face was ghostly pale in the dim light of the streetlamp nearby. 

Caius frantically checked his pockets for his phone, finding it tucked in the last one he checked. He unlocked it with shaking hands and got into his speed dial with a few quick presses, sandwiching it between his ear and shoulder as he fumbled with his first aid kit. The one time he leaves it in the car, goddamnit. 

Sam answered just before it went to voicemail, his voice drowsy. 

“Caius? What time is it?”

“Two AM, rise and shine.” He tried to keep the panic from his voice. He found Tommy’s wrist and turned out his arm. His blood looked black in the light, spewing shockingly fast from the gash parting his ivory skin.

“Sam, Tommy’s hurt bad, they definitely got an artery. I’m working on a tourniquet – what do I do?”

“Fuck,” Sam responded, his voice slightly clearer. 

“-Where is the bleed? How big? How deep?”

“Arm, I don’t know, I don’t know,” Caius rushed, pulling the roll of gauze out and struggling to find where it started for a second before he started to wrap it around Tommy’s arm.

“Give me something to work with here, what’s going on?”

Tommy moaned in pain when Caius bound it tightly, startling slightly out of his stupor. 

“Tommy? Stay with me buddy, stay with me. Sam, you’re going to have to meet me.”

“Jeez, okay, where are you right now?”

The bandage was darkening fast while he prepared the tourniquet. Which step was first again? He couldn’t remember anything, his head was reeling in a blind panic. 

He paused long enough to send his location to Sam before pinching the phone back against his shoulder.

“I’m here, pick the best halfway point and send it back to me right now, go NOW.”

He could hear rustling on the phone, hopefully the sound of Sam heading his way. 

“Give me thirty seconds and I’ll send it and head out. But hey, if you lose this one, don’t beat yourself up about it, it happens. I knew a guy who-”

“NO,” Caius snarled, and he realized he was scared. There were a few beats of silence, and his phone pinged. He tied off the tourniquet and dropped his phone into his hand, rounding the car to rip the driver’s door open and jump inside.

ASSHOLE DOCTOR (SAM) HAS PINGED YOU A LOCATION.

It couldn’t load fast enough. He was pulling out of the driveway before he knew where he was heading. 

“It’s forty minutes out,” Sam told him gently, his voice distant as the call transferred to his own car’s system. At least he was on the way. 

“Be there in twenty.”

Caius hung up the phone, his wheels skidding in the street as he pulled out of the driveway.

“Tommy, baby, talk to me, you’ve gotta stay awake.”

From the back seat, Tommy groaned weakly.

Caius flipped the heaters on, only slowing briefly at a red light before peeling out. He was already sweating, but Tommy had felt so cold. 

“Keep talking, I gotta know you’re okay. What’s your favorite movie?”

Tommy took a shuddering breath.

“I don’t feel so good…”

His voice was so small, Caiuscould barely hear him over the blast of the heaters.

“What uh, what do you want for dinner? Once I get you fixed up. Anything you want.”

Tommy coughed raspily, dry heaving before he fell still again.

“TOMMY.”

“Coney. From home.”

“Home?”

Tommy took a shuddering breath. 

“Motor city, baby,” Tommy mumbled sleepily. Caius laughed, too loud, too jarring. 

“Tell me, tell me about Detroit.”

There was no response. Caius turned music on, whatever was playing, and turned it up loud. 

“YOU GOTTA STAY AWAKE,” he shouted over the music, and saw Tommy stir uncomfortably.

His phone told him they’d be going straight down the highway for the next 24 miles. He worked the gas pedal slowly to the ground, grateful for the clear roads. 

He skidded to a halt in the empty parking lot of Wheeler’s Dealers Emporium. His heart was beating out of his chest like he had run the whole way. He threw open Tommy’s door and pulled his legs, drawing him closer to get a look at him. 

“Stay with me. Tommy? Come on, little longer.”

Tommy made no response. 

He could hear a car pulling into the lot behind him, fast. 

He held his face, shining his cell phone light at his eyes. Tugging one lid open, his eyes were rolled back. In the light, his lips were so blue.

Caius kissed him. 

He didn’t know why, he hadn’t kissed him before. CPR didn’t work for blood loss, did it? He looked down and saw where that inky blackness had seeped into the jacket he’d wrapped around him. 

He grabbed his arm right over the cut and squeezed. 

The pain brought Tommy back to life, gasping for breath. Caius kissed him like warming his lips would save him, but honestly, he was just so relieved he wasn’t gone. 

Tommy went limp in his arms. 

Then Sam was there too, putting a hand on his shoulder. Caius moved out of the way, and Sam snagged the scissors from the first aid, cutting away the clothing obscuring the wound. 

“Tommy buddy, talk to me, you hanging in there?”

Caius sat in the back seat, holding Tommy up in his lap.  “Please, Tommy. Stay.”

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Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slighlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

Thank you all so much for reading, I cannot tell you what it means to me.

[my-prompt-dump]

Wincest/Gencest/Weirdcest

I can't remember if Charlie met Jack but no one here is dead and everyone is sorta friends.

Also was supposed to be a Fem!Sam au but I can always make another post with that version if any of you want!

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Someone screams in the bunker and keeps screaming. It Dean was already up at the first scream and was about to run to whoever was in trouble until the door to his room opened with a bang.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS???"

It was Charlie, holding a... copy of Vogue Magazine? Ugh, Dean is too tired for this. He flops back down to sit in his bed. He's exhausted as fuck but he knows he can't go back to sleep now.

"Jesus, Charlie. I thought someone was dying"

"I wish I was! Cos you just scarred me for life!"

Dean looks at his phone to see that it was still 8 in the morning. Okay, too early.

"Will you two please shut up?" A voice says behind Dean. There buried under their blanket and a mountain of pillows is Sam, birds nest hair and all.

"No! Just- Here! What the shit is this?!"

She shoves the magazine right up to Dean's face and he takes it to see it better.

"Holy shit!"

He feels Sam sit up and position himself to look over his brother's shoulder.

"Oh. They actually did it."

"Man, looks like they weren't full of shit after all. Hey, Sammy, you think we can still get royalties from this?"

Charlie makes an indignant noise. "Huh???"

Dean is still grinning proudly but at least Sam sends an apologetic look her way.

"We were broke." He says like that explains everything. Sam must have seen the doubt in her face because he repeats himself.

"That's literally the whole story, Charlie. We were broke. Chuck didn't include this in the books?"

"NO?? What's the story of this then? Please elaborate for my sanity."

"I would like to know too."

They all turn to the door and see Castiel there, Jack smiling shyly behind him.

Sam and Dean share a look, doing that soulmate annoying silent telephatic talking voodoo whatchumacallit with each other.

Dean stares at the picture again on the page. A picture that takes up the entire spread of the page, followed by an interview with the owners of a booming clothing line.

The picture is him and Sam in their younger years, in a position that will never make people guess they were brothers. They are hugging and wearing clothes too fancy for either of them to ever own. Dean's back is to the camera, but his head is facing right so that his eye is still trained to the lens of the camera; protective and possessive. He's standing in between Sam who was sitting on a table, legs wrapped around his older brother's waist. Sam's arms are around his shoulders, fingers almost clawing his back. His brother's eyes are looking directly at the front; dangerous and equally possessive as Dean's.

Not only that, they were wet and made to look sweaty as fuck so it looks like it's a during-sex kinda shot.

Jeez, how did they agree to that. Not a single thing about this shot was promoting the clothes, you can't even see them properly!

"Alright, but no talking or we're stopping."

They all nod and begin to listen intently.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Flashback to teen Sam (19) and Dean (23) being banned from every bar at an nth mile radius because of constant hustling and brawls but they're almost out of the allowance John gave them.

John told them it'd be enough til he comes back and that they need to leave as soon as he's back so "no need to get a job, Dean".

Dean should've gotten one anyway just in case because even if he went and got one now, they'd be starving before he gets his first paycheck.

Sam was walking home from school one day and spots an ad stapled to a pole.

'Urgent: Looking for models for our clothing line! Not a scam! Inquire at XXX-XXX'

He thinks it over and says fuck it, he is not having junkfood for dinner again.

Arriving home, he slams the poster at the table where Dean was cleaning their guns.

"Fuck!"

Sam pays him no mind and just points at the thing.

"Let's do it."

At first Dean was confused but he sees the ad and raises an eyebrow at his brother.

"One day of our photos being taken and we'll get money enough to last us a week. Come on."

"Don't know what you're thinkin but we are not models, Sammy."

"We're not ugly, Dean."

"Being not ugly doesn't mean we can model, dude."

Dean would marry himself if he could, that is how good looking his brother thinks he is. Sam was relying on Dean's vanity to get him on board but this. This wasn't what he was expecting.

Well.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

"What? Lady-killer Dean Winchester is too chicken to be rejected and find out he's not that handsome after all?"

Dean freezes and Sam already knows he won.

Dean's pride is so easy to mess with.

------------

It's a starting clothing business that hopes to be big one day. They didn't want to spend too much money but figured that investing in good quality will get them far.

So when two guys in secondhand clothes from Goodwill came for the modelling job, they were hesitant. But when they were cleaned up by the crew, they look like proper models. Handsome, beautiful, pretty, fit, TALL.

Brothers they say but there's an air around them that they can use to say otherwise.

They dressed them up, did their make up, gave them a wet look for the final set and they were done.

Their first promotional poster was born.

Sam and Dean went home with a month's worth of cash and the company was left breathless.

It took them a while to get an audience to see them but it was that photo that blew the growing internet up and put them in the spotlight.

They have it framed in the middle of their new big ass studio like a trophy.

Years later, when they were reached out to by Vogue (VOGUE!!) for an interview about their journey, they knew what photo to use as a centrepiece for their page.

[skz317cb97]

Street Fighter

Jeongin x Female reader

Word count: 2K

Synopsis: When your friend Jeongin shows up at your door with a black eye you insist on him explaining why he's playing real life street fighter again.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! Just a quick lil Jeongin fic that was inspired by some pictures in an ask I received. To anyone with a request I promise as soon as I'm back in the swing of things completely I'll be working on them again! Thank you for your patience. In the mean time if you all enjoy this story please give it a reblog, like, comment, shoot me an ask, I just love you guy's feedback! As always warnings and smut below the cut!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing and strong language, mentions of fighting and mild violence, oral (m&f receiving), deep throating, gagging, breath play, unprotected piv sex, rough sex, choking, strength kink, Jeongin is a little possesive, praise, pet names (good girl, gorgeous, goddess), little degradation (Jeongin calls MC his slut/whore a couple of times), cream pie. I think that's everything but if I ever miss something please let me know and I'll add it immediately!

“Why the fuck do you have a black eye?!” Was, of course, the first question out of your mouth when you saw Jeongin. He sighed and walked through the door you had just opened. 

“Can I come in before you start giving me the third degree, please?” You gave him just as heavy of a sigh. 

“Can you not show up to my door after another fight club match with no explanation?” He gave you an incredulous look. 

“I’ll tell you jeeze just let me put some ice on my face and I’ll explain everything.” You followed Jeongin into the kitchen and stood there with your arms crossed as he got a hand towel and some ice and pressed it against his face. He looked over at you and you gave him a look that said, ‘Well?’. 

“Okay, okay! I was leaving the convenient store and I was on the way here when I ran into Sam.” You looked confused for a second. 

“Sam?” Jeongin rolled his eyes clearly not a fan of ‘Sam’. 

“Your ex.” Oh yea. You tried not to think about that one, it was bad. He was verbally abusive and he scared you. So you got away before things could get physical. 

“Oh that Sam.” He nodded. 

“Okay well what’s that have to do with your bl-…" You stopped and sighed. 

“Please tell me you didn’t.” Jeongin grabbed the back of his neck. 

“I just couldn’t help it. I thought about the last things he said to you and I saw red. I shoved him and he got a cheap shot in. We fought until a couple other guys split us up and we went separate ways.” 

“Again? That's like the third time you’ve gotten into a fight with one of my ex’s. Are you gonna beat up every guy that breaks my heart?” Jeongin looked at you seriously. 

“Yes...” You were about to say something but he cut you off. 

“Yes, I will. Until you finally realize the guy you should have been with all along.” Your brow was furrowed in confusion again. 

“Wha-what do you mean?” Jeongin put down the ice filled towel and walked over to you. 

“Do you really not see...” He grabbed your hand. 

“I mean I’m waiting for you to realize that I’m not agi ppang anymore. I’m a man, and I’m in love with you. It should be me you're with. I’d never treat you like any of those other guys. I’d treat you like a queen, worship you like the goddess you are.” He kissed your hand. 

“I.N... I... I didn’t know you felt this way.” He took a chance and wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him. 

“Well now that you do, how do you feel about it?” You put your arms around his broad shoulders and carded your fingers through the hair at his nape. 

“I feel like...” He nodded a little smiling softly at you. 

“I feel like I want to kiss you right now.” Jeongin chuckled and didn’t wait any longer. His lips found yours gently slotting together at first before quickly starting to nibble and trace your tongues along the others. It wasn’t long before you were grasping at each other frantically as you made out. You pulled away long enough to pull Jeongin’s shirt off over his head. 

“Wait are we gon...” You cut him off with your lips. 

“Stop talking and fuck me Innie.” He nodded and pulled your spaghetti strap top down, freeing your breasts then kissing you hard. You grabbed at his belt but before you could undo his button and fly he lifted your legs and wrapped them around him before slamming you against the fridge.  You could feel his hard cock pressing into your throbbing core. It made you clench. 

“GOD! YES! FUCK! Jeongin!” He kissed down your jaw and neck, biting a little harder each time. 

“Fuck you sound so pretty. Make some noise for me gorgeous.” He bit you again, hard. 

“OW! JEOn-” He rolled his hips into yours rubbing against your clit through your clothes. 

“Fuck!” You grabbed two hand fulls of his hair and pulled as he started to nip his way down your neck again, more gently this time. You tugged and tilted his head back before sinking your teeth into the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

“Mmmm, okay, I deserved that.” You both laughed and Jeongin gripped your ass and carried you to your bedroom. He tossed you on your bed and you laughed again. 

“Get those shorts and panties off.” You smirked. 

“What panties?” Jeongin’s mouth watered. 

“Such a bad girl. No panties? Let’s see.” Jeongin grabbed your shorts and pulled revealing you in fact did not have any panties on. When he saw your glistening folds, he licked his lips.  He took his fingers and spread you open then spit on your pussy before leaning down to lick it up. Your head flew back and you moaned at the contact. His warm wet tongue slowly, gently exploring every inch of you. Going down on you was as much for him as it was for you it seemed, the way he moaned into your cunt when he gently sucked at your clit. You gripped his hair tightly again. 

“Ohh my god Innie fuck! You're doing so good god please! Fingers please!” Jeongin slurped at you and pushed two fingers inside. He started slow pumping them in and out, stretching you but when he started to get really excited his tongue worked faster and he finger fucked you harder. 

“Yesyesyesyessss! Holy fucking don’t stop I’m gonna cum!” A guttural growl came from Jeongin as he curled his fingers inside you pushing you over the edge. You had never cum so hard in your life. Your legs shook and attempted to trap Jeongin between them only stopped by his strong hands pinning them down to the bed. He gave you one more lick from bottom to top and then kissed his way up your body. He kissed you so sweetly and then looked into your eyes. 

“How do you feel about choking on my cock beautiful?” Truthfully your mouth watered at the idea. You got on your knees and Jeongin stood in front of you. You finally unfastened his pants and pulled them and his underwear down at the same time. His cock sprung out hard and ready. You grabbed him and gently licked the tip. Then again, then again. 

“Don’t tease me now, or remember, payback is a bitch.” You smiled looking up at him then took his tip into your mouth swirling your tongue around him. He patted your hair. 

“Such a good girl. Go on. More.” You took more of him into your mouth sliding down the shaft of his dick, coating it in plenty of saliva. The first time you went down enough to gag on him Jeongin let out a soft moan. 

“That’s it. Deeper.” He thrusted when you went down, pushing the tip of his dick deeper into your throat. You gagged again. 

“You can do it beautiful, choke on it.” You hummed and Jeongin held your head as he thrusted deeper into your throat, over and over, fucking your face as you drooled, spit dribbling down your chin.  

“Look up at me. Fuck! Yes my pretty little slut! Open up and let me fuck that throat.” You opened your mouth and Jeongin’s cock squelched as he punished the back of your throat. He gripped your hair tightly and then pushed you all the way down on his cock, pressing your nose into his pubic muscle and then pinching it closed. You gagged and struggled a little and he let go allowing you to pull off him. 

“God damn fuck yes you are such a good girl, a fucking goddess! Get that sexy ass up on this bed I’m fucking you stupid right now!” He practically lifted and tossed you on the bed again.  

“Bend over.” It wasn’t a request and you weren’t going to argue anyway. You bent over and Jeongin gave your ass a smack. 

“Fuck yes my good little whore listens so well, sucks so well, I gotta fill her up good.” You nodded leaning down into the mattress, your ass perched up high for Jeongin to admire. Both hands rubbed your ass cheeks and he gave one a smack again. 

“God fuck me please!” Jeongin lined up with your dripping hole and started to push the tip in. You moaned out as he sank all the way into you. When his balls were pressed against you he let out a grunt. 

“You’re so fucking tight! How are you this tight gorgeous? Those assholes weren’t even fucking you right huh?” You shook your head no, honestly none of your ex’s fucked you well. If you got off it was because you were on top and you got yourself off. Jeongin had you seeing stars already. 

“Don’t worry this is my pussy now.” Just like with his fingers Jeongin slowly started thrusting into you from behind. After a minute his grip on your hips tightened and he started to go harder. 

“God yes fuck me like that, hard!” If you told Jeongin to fuck you hard then he was going to do just that. He started fuckin you harder your face pressing further into your mattress with each thrust of his hips into yours. He felt divine. You couldn’t speak it felt so good.  

“You already fucked dumb beautiful? Hmm? Come on let me hear you.” He pulled you up so that his chest was pressed against your back and his cock was so deep inside you all you could do was scream his name in pleasure. 

“JEONGIN! FUCK SO DEEP! YES!” He felt you clenching and shaking, as your orgasm approached he grabbed you around the throat with both hands and started to squeeze, when you started to get a little bit of a head buzz Jeongin let go, you took a breath and came out of nowhere. 

“Good girl cum on my cock. My little whore likes it deep and hard. You like it when I choke you?” You nodded as you reached back and gripped his hair with both hands holding on while he slowly grinded up into you and you rode out your high. Once you had clarity again Jeongin whispered in your ear. 

“On your back gorgeous. I wanna see my goddess’ face when she creams on my cock this time.” His breathy, raunchy words made your body erupt in goosebumps and you shivered. Jeongin pulled out and you fell onto your back and spread your legs. 

“Fuck that’s the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your swollen cunt then pushed it inside you. 

“Ohhh god yes!” Jeongin fit inside you perfectly, rubbed you in all the right places. He gripped your hips and went rough straight out the gate this time, slamming his hips into yours hard and deep. He leaned down over you, wrapping his arms around you and holding your shoulders as he fucked you harder, making you take all of him. All you could do was lay there and let him take you there. He let go of you and propped himself up over you. He slowed down and started rolling his hips, then one of his hands was wrapped around your throat again pressing with a deliciously perfect amount of pressure. Your legs started to shake and Jeongin knew you were close again. 

“Go on, cum for me baby, give in, give it to me.” You exited your body for at least sixty full seconds before you felt Jeongin’s hips falter and his warm cum fill you. 

“God yes beautiful fucking take it all!” You both shook and trembled through the last bits of your orgasms and then Jeongin fell on top of you sweaty and out of breath. He was heavy and crushing you. 

“Innie, can’t breathe.” You both laughed and he rolled off of you.  

“Sorry.” You giggled and scooted in close.  

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to crush me after fucking me like that... just...” He raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Refrain from crushing other men because of me please. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Jeongin nodded, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.   

“I will refrain from crushing anyone but you.” You laughed and kissed him. 

“There’s no one I’d rather be crushed by.” 

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

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[patdkoala]

New Neighbor

Pairing: Sam Claflin x Female Reader

Warnings: None This is Pure Fluff

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART TWO I kinda want a part two

I just moved into my new apartment complex. It's nice. Clean. Quiet. And it's mostly filled with actors and actresses so the people that live here are rarely home anyway.

I'm a writer. So, I'm always home.

I sit in my apartment, turn on my ambiance lamp, have my record player on a constant rotation of my favorite tunes, and then have my cup of tea.

I will sit there and write for hours on end. If all goes well, I will have written a page and a half during those hours.

I never said I was a good writer. I'm speaking from experience.

One day I was getting home late. (I was sitting at Mcdonald's for two hours just reordering a large fry with a large Dr. Pepper.) I had just stepped out of the elevator and I heard the apartment door next to mine open and then close.

My neighbor was finally home.

For as long as I'd lived here, they had never been home. I've lived here for two years.

I set my giant Dr. Pepper cup on the counter along with my keys and wallet. I turned on my lamp and record player.

I turned it up on full volume like I have been doing for the past two years. I sat down at my desk and started to write about the people I was staring at in McDonald's. Then I heard three knocks at my door.

Quite loudly too if I must say.

"Jeez, I'll be right there!" I yelled as I ran over to the door to answer it.

I opened the door and I shit you not the guy standing there looked like that Billy Dunne fella from that Amazon show I was watching late last night.

"Excuse me, but do you mind turning that down? I'm trying to run lines and we have thin walls," He said as I just stood there and stared at him.

"Are you-" "Yes, I am the man from the tv. Now, do you mind turning that down?" He said in a grumpy old man tone that made me roll my eyes and go to turn it off.

I left the front door open and when I went back over to it, he was gone. So I shut the door and did what any sane person would do, I googled him.

'Main guy from Daisy Jones show'

Sam Claflin. Okay, so I googled something else.

'Sam Claflin movies'

So I watched some.

Okay, I watched all of them. Plus, I finished all of Daisy Jones and started Peaky Blinders.

A few days later, I realized I hadn't written anything for days. I'd been sitting on the couch ordering food to my door and only getting up to use the restroom or answer the door.

I decided to cool it on the Sam Claflin marathon. I got up and took a shower. I then deep-cleaned my whole apartment.

I finally decided to write something. So, I set up my lamp and my record player. I may or may not have forgotten about my neighbor, Sam Claflin.

I started writing and then I heard three distinct knocks at the door. It's funny how I can tell it's his knocks already.

I opened the front door and smiled up at the tall gentleman in front of me. "Hello, Sam Claflin. Would you like for me to turn down the music again?"

"Yes, I- Did you google me?" He asked as I nodded proudly. "I did as a matter of fact. I also watched your whole discography."

"What? No, you didn't. That would have taken you a matter of days."

"I did actually. I'm a big loner with no friends and all I do is spend all day writing in my sad lonely apartment. If I don't go outside for weeks nobody is gonna notice," I said as he just stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Did you watch the Hunger Games?"

"Yes."

"Enola Holmes?"

"Yes, of course, my dear Mycroft," I said with a wink.

"Peaky Blinders?"

"Yes, love the stache by the way."

"Thanks. Did you-"

"Yes. I watched everything. Even the bad romance ones and the-"

"You don't like romance movies? What woman doesn't like romance movies?"

"Ones with brains. They are all the same. They all start the same and all end the same."

"Oh, you've had your heart shattered," He said as he crossed his arms.

"What? No. I've never even been in that sick puppy love before. I've only been in serious relationships with serious men. Not dumb pretty boy actors. Also, what's with you dying in all of your films? And do you only star in book renditions?"

"Did you just call me a pretty boy actor?"

"Is the only thing you heard me say?"

He just stood there and smiled at me. His cheesy British pretty boy actor smile. And I mistakenly smiled back.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" He asked as I then crossed my arms to match his energy.

"Okay. But, I don't want to go out."

"Okay. We can eat at my place. I'll pick you up at-"

"I can walk next door by myself. You just have dinner ready by 8."

He nodded and then he walked away from the door. I shut it and went back to writing.

I wrote a couple of pages. Nothing much.

I then started to get ready around 7:30. I wasn't going to put much time or effort into this because I don't see it as a date. I see it as a get-together with my cute neighbor who just so happens to be Sam Claflin.

I walked over to his apartment around 8:15.

I knocked three times.

"You're late," He said as I rolled my eyes and walked into his apartment without any introduction.

"Well, I figured you already don't like me so what's the harm in being a few minutes late."

"How can I not like you when I don't even know your name?"

"(Y/N). There now you have every right not to like me."

"Okay, well, (Y/N). I hope you like chicken."

"What if I was a vegetarian? Would you have something else for me to eat?"

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"No."

"Then we won't have to worry about that now do we?"

I smiled at him and then sat down at the two-seater table in the middle of his dining room. His apartment was a little bigger than mine. I guess that comes with being a big-time Hollywood actor.

He had nice things. A big Tv. A big couch. Probably even had a big bed.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't still have my twin bed from my college apartment.

His plants are fake, though. This means that he likes the ambiance that plants create but he doesn't want the commitment of keeping them alive.

"What are you doing?"

"Scoping out your apartment. Seeing if I'm going to steal it from you or not," I said as he laughed and then sat down in front of me.

He poured us both glasses of wine.

"Is this a date?" I asked as he set the bottle down.

"Do you want it to be?"

"Well, I'm just curious because you asked me out before you even knew my name. So, you are either insane or incredibly horny and will most likely fuck anything that moves," I said matter-of-factly.

"Are you a musician?" He asked obviously trying to change the subject.

"No, why do you ask that?"

"The loud music."

"Those are just some of my favorite bands. They help me write when I can't think of anything."

"Ah, you're a writer. That makes sense," He said as I glared at him from across the table.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you talk a lot and you seem to always be stuck in your own head. I've seen a lot of writers and they all have those tells."

"Okay, so you figured me out. My turn."

I studied him. I've watched all his movies. I know his Star Chart. I know what college he went to. I know when he first started acting. I know what his first movie was. I know who his first girlfriend was and I know to who he lost his virginity. He's another dumb male celebrity that has nothing secret or hidden from the media.

"I've got nothing," I said as I looked into his eyes.

Because that was the truth. I looked into this man's eyes and all I saw were these gorgeous green eyes that were just staring right back at me.

"Well, since you know everything about me do you mind if I ask you something?" He asked as he ate a piece of meat off his fork.

"Go ahead."

"Why did you watch all my movies?"

"Because I wanted to figure you out and I found it interesting that I live next to Sam Claflin the actor."

"Pretty boy actor" He added as if he were correcting me.

"Right. Pretty boy actor." I said as he turned a slight shade of pink.

"Are you usually home alone? Or do you live with someone?"

"Why? Do you want to kill me, Sam Claflin?"

"No. And why do you keep using my full name?"

"Because it's throwing you off."

"Yeah, it is."

We went on to talk about what I like to write. Which is mostly mystery and murder mystery. I stray far away from romance. It's sticky and all the same.

He learned my Star Chart. What college I went to. When I first started writing. The first novel I wrote. Who my first boyfriend was and to whom I lost my virginity.

"I hope to see you again, (Y/N) (L/N)," He said as he leaned against my door frame. (He insisted on walking me to my door)

"Well, if I ever want to see you again I know to just turn my music up too loud," I said as he smiled and then I turned around and shut the door.

I leaned against it and I swear this man stood in front of my closed door for a solid minute before walking away. I wonder if he was hoping I'd open it and let him in.

If we were going to have sex, though, I'd hope it'd be in his bed because mine can barely support my own weight.

[hopelessromantic423]

Same Time, Next Mission

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x agent!reader

Summary: You and Bucky keep running into each other during missions. What happens when a little flirting gets added into the mix?

Warning: teasing, flirting, fluff. No smut. Reader is kind of bad at their job. Time hops.

It was a normal mission. At least, it started off as a normal mission. You were currently situated on the left side of this huge warehouse where illegal weapons were being stored. Your task was to get a specific flash drive that held all the blueprints to these guns and lasers etc.

The room was in sight. A single small room with glass windows meant easy access. You heard your teammate whisper something into your earpiece which caught you off guard.

"What do you mean there’s a guy running around in blue spandex?" you whispered back in confusion.

Like clockwork, your eyes caught Steve Rogers running across the walkway from the other side of the facility. His shield caught the overhead lights beaming downward as he sprinted from one hiding place to the next. "Why is he here," you whispered to yourself while standing up from your hiding spot.

You mapped out your next move but you didn't go far when a loud thunk sound clamored behind you. Swiftly, you turned around to spot a man you had never seen before. He wasn't wearing the facilities uniform, so you took a wild guess and connected him to Captain America.

His blue eyes shot daggers into yours as you grabbed your knife from its holster. "Hey, buddy," was all you could speak before the man with short brunette hair started throwing punches at you. You huffed out an, "excuse me!" while continually fighting the mystery man. You couldn't lie, he was a damn good fighter. "I'm a good guy," you blurted out while dodging one of his knife jabs.

The man finally eased up and took a step back, still ready to pounce at any moment. "I work for SHIELD," you said as calmly as possible. It didn't go as planned when he rolled his eyes and went back to swinging.

"SHIELD is dead," he grunted out while gliding his leg behind you, kicking both of your legs from under you.

"No, it's not! Can we talk like normal people for five seconds," you negotiated while standing up from the cold metal floor. "Jeez, my ass hurts."

"Fine," he huffed, taking a step back and crossing his arms.

"Hi," you stated calmly. "I still work for Nick Fury, you know guy with one eye? Scary as hell?"

"Yea, yea. I know him. Keep talkin'," the man huffed again with a slight New York accent showing through his speech pattern. He looked so unamused, but it was better than dodging a solid metal arm for the next five minutes.

"Newly reformed SHIELD. Blah, blah, blah, you get the gist. I'm here to get info, not get in your way."

A look of frustration still covered the brunette's face as he stared at you like he was trying to read you like a newspaper. "How do I know you're not corrupt like the rest of them?" For the first time in the last ten minutes, his tone was a little softer and more humanistic. He actually wanted to know.

"You're with the Avengers mumbo jumbo," you questioned while sliding your knife back into its holster.

"Maybe," the brunette replied with crossed arms and a look that screamed, "yes but I'm not telling you".

"I used to work with your friend Sam, Air Force."

After one last exchange of glances, you brushed past the mystery man who had an amusing dumbfounded look on his face. "Nice to meet you too asshole," you murmured close enough so he could hear you and kept walking to finish your mission.

The next time you caught up with the mystery brunette was in Paris, France of all places. The city was absolutely beautiful, the only time it wasn't pleasant was when a familiar face made an unexpected cameo.

"Hey watch it!" Feeling a figure close behind you, you couldn't help but yelp while standing on the roof of a nearby pâtisserie. "You again," you sighed taking one glance at him and then turning back to your station.

"I believe it was an asshole to you, (Y/L/N)," the brunette said in a charming tone. You couldn't lie to yourself, your knees buckled slightly as he smiled at you.

Taking a few steps toward him, your hands found themselves fiddling with the straps on the chest of his suit. "You did your research, that's cute," you cooed in a teasing manner.

"Are you going to help or what?" The heavy rope you were currently trying to tie up to the building was giving you trouble and the help happened to be the charming man standing beside you. He jumped right into the action, knotting it in less than five seconds.

"Perfect, see you later James," you stated while using the rope to slide down to the second-floor balcony, leaving him dumbfounded with rosy cheeks.

You had done a little research of your own

The most recent time you had seen James "Bucky" Barnes, famed super soldier and the former assassin was at a gala in New York. Home turf.

Standing near the dance floor with a champagne flute in hand, you eyed the crowd looking for a specific mob boss that you needed to speak with privately. Everything was going smoothly, keyword: was.

"Would you like to dance agent," Barnes whispered right beside your ear with a smart-ass smirk on his face. His short hair was slicked back and he switched his navy leather suit for a sleek all-black tux for the night. He looked like a million bucks.

“We have to stop running into each other like this,” you chuckled while setting your drink down on a nearby table and allowing Bucky to guide you to the dance floor by the small of your back.

“Ditched the mission suit?”

“You could say that,” you murmured.

Bucky smirked, pulling you closer to him while swaying back and forth. His cheek brushed against yours as he whispered, “for a spy, you’re not very subtle (Y/N).”

You thought you had died and gone to heaven at that moment. Luckily, you stayed on your own two feet and continued eyeing the crowd from behind Bucky’s shoulder.

“When’s your next mission?” Bucky’s deep blue eyes found yours as he questioned.

“Why do you want to know? Planning to sabotage that one too?”

Bucky chuckled while spinning you away from him and back. “I was hoping to take you out on a real date. No bad guys or top secret weapons, just us.”

“I’d like that very much.” A smile plastered on your face as you glanced up at him. Your glance made its way to Bucky’s lips, hoping he’d take the hint. "You'll be the death of me won't you,” he smirked while leaning toward you.

Just as his lips brushed yours, he pulled away making you glance up in confusion. "I think I'll save that for later,” he smiled while wrapping his hand around your waist. You sighed while shaking your head, hoping that your rosy cheeks had disbanded at that point.

"Thanks for the dance, I've got eyes on the target,” you whispered pulling away from Bucky’s grasp. “Pick me up at 6 tomorrow night?"

"I don't know where you live,” Bucky mentioned trying to suppress his smile.

"You'll find it," you said fixing his tie so that it lay flat against his chest. "Good luck," you sang while turning to walk away. Your heels clicked as the distance between the two of you grew further, but you gave him one last glance only to see him staring at you still in awe.

Before Bucky could make the next move, Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers had made their way to each side of him. Sam gave his shoulder a shake just to make sure he was still mentally available.

"I've got a date tomorrow," Bucky said blatantly while turning to Sam.

"Really?" Steve's tone was surprised. "With who?"

"Agent (Y/L/N), from SHEILD."

"How did you manage that?" Sam looked utterly shocked.

"Should I back out?"

"No!" The two men screamed in unison as if the world was ending.

"I asked her out and she shot me down like no tomorrow. Tony couldn't even get her to look in his direction,” Steve mentioned, trying to save his ego.

"Did you trick her? Blackmail?" Sam’s tone was urgent as he questioned.

"No," Bucky chuckled defensively. His hand came up to his mouth to hide his smile. "We just kept running into each other. Maybe it was fate."

[onceuponastory]

love me, too - sam wilson x reader

I hope we kiss goodnight It might just end my life - kiss goodnight by i don't know how, but they found me

Plot: One night in Delacroix, Y/N and Sam sit together on his sister's porch swing. Sam is preoccupied with Sarah and Bucky’s growing romantic interest in one another… whilst Y/N is preoccupied with her romantic interest in Sam. Pairing: Sam Wilson x Female!Reader. Also hinted Bucky x Sarah (Bucky has a crush). Warnings: A small mention of alcohol, and just a lot of sickly sweet fluff. But as always, if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is for @flufftober Day 7: Porch Swing. I love writing Sam fluff, he's the best, and I adore this story, so I hope you all love it too! 💖 Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Y/N, when are you going to stop torturing yourself?” Bucky asks from beside her as he takes a swig from his beer. Y/N frowns. She went outside to sit on Sarah's porch swing for a moment of relaxation and solitude. She came to Delacroix for a break from the city and to unwind. Of course, seeing Sam, Sarah, Bucky, AJ and Cass was the main reason, but she can see why they love it so much whenever she’s there. It’s so peaceful, and the townspeople are so welcoming. So when Bucky joined her and told her he needed to ask her something, she definitely was not expecting such an intense question to leave his lips.

“Jeez, deep much? And besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“That’s a lie.” Another swig. When Y/N stays silent, Bucky rolls his eyes. “Really? You’re not going to talk now?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She lies again, which Bucky once again picks up on immediately.

“Mhm. Sure. I may be an old man, but I’m not stupid.” He raises a brow, staring at her and just waiting for her to break. When she still doesn’t take the bait, Bucky sighs. “I’m talking about how insanely in love with Sam you are, and how you still haven’t told him yet.” Y/N gasps, swatting at his arm. Bucky may be one of her best friends in the world… but he’s also a complete pain in the ass.

“Shut up!” She hisses. “It’s none of your business when, or even if, I’ll tell him. Besides, did you really come out here just to pester me on my dating life?” Y/N asks. Bucky shakes his head. 

“Nope. Sarah wanted me to ask you if you want some ice cream.” He smiles, and Y/N raises a brow.

“Oh, you wanna talk about my dating life? How about your huge crush on Sarah, lover-boy?” Bucky’s face goes scarlet, and Y/N’s burst of laughter fills the air. “I knew it!” She gasps. “You’re absolutely not one to talk about me not telling Sam. When are you going to tell Sarah?”

“I-I don’t know!” He stammers. “Anytime I go near her, Sam stares daggers at me.” He groans, and Y/N nods. She’s definitely been witness to a few of those looks. If looks could kill, Bucky would be in serious trouble. “Look at us. Best friends, and each in love with one of the Wilsons.” 

“And we’re both terrified to tell them the truth.”

Bucky chuckles. “How about we just both agree to tell them whenever we’re ready? …Whenever the hell that is.” He suggests, and Y/N agrees. “Perfect. I’m gonna head back in, you coming?” Bucky asks, and Y/N shakes her head. 

“I’ll stay here for a bit. See you later.” As Bucky departs, Y/N settles back into her seat, staring out at the sunset, and the sky’s vibrant pink and purple hues. God, it’s so beautiful out here.

For a while, she’s alone with her thoughts, until:

“Hey, you. Buck said you were out here on your own. What’s up?” Sam asks, sitting down beside her. 

“Of course he did. I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

She looks over at Sam, who grins back at her, turning his body to face her. As she wonders what it would be like to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she can already register her heart beating just that little faster. Despite the cooler chill in the air as autumn makes its way in, being with Sam like this makes her feel all warm and cosy inside. Well… that’s how Sam always makes her feel. Initially, she thought you felt this way towards everyone, including friends. But then she realised that nobody else makes her feel so content, or can make her laugh as hard as Sam does. Nobody else would let her call them at all hours of the night for a chat, even if it’s about mindless nonsense. 

Nobody ever cares as much about her as Sam Wilson does. 

And god, she loves him so much.

“Hey yourself. I could ask you the same question, you know.” Sam chuckles, a classic Sam Wilson smile that sends her heart into a flutter. She hopes his reply is something like: 

“I just wanted to see you.” or “I have to tell you something.” Unfortunately though, it’s not that. “Oh my god, I just had to get away from my sister and Bucky flirting with one another. It’s driving me insane.” Y/N rolls her eyes, suppressing a groan. Here it comes.

Ever since she arrived, Sam has been complaining about Bucky's crush on Sarah, and Sarah's reciprocated feelings for him. And since he can’t take his frustrations out on either of them, he's dumping it all on her. Of course, she understands he just wants to protect his sister, and despite knowing Bucky’s a good guy, it’s natural to worry. At first, she was thankful for his complaining, since it gave her a chance to think about something that wasn’t her crush on Sam. Now, though, it’s driving her crazy.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah.” she murmurs, and Sam raises a brow. 

“You sure? You look….” He murmurs, and she rolls her eyes.

“Well Sam, there’s only so many times you can hear about Bucky and Sarah staring at each other.” She points out, and he nods.

“I know, I know.” His words make Y/N breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, it's over. Until: “I just don’t get it! Like what could she possibly see in-“

“Oh my god, Sam, please stop.” She groans, leaning against the back of the swing.

“But- “

“No! That’s all I’ve had to put up with since I got here!” She exclaims. “And I understand you’re nervous, but Bucky’s a great guy and Sarah will be fine. She's raising those two boys by herself, I think she can handle your best friend.” In hindsight, she should’ve calmed down and thought about what she was going to say next. But after spending so long bottling things up, she’s ready to erupt. “This was supposed to be a relaxing trip, and I wanted to tell you how I feel about you!”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, his brow raised and his voice suddenly more serious.

“I was going to tell you I love you!” She gasps. Her admission shocks them both, and her eyes widen. “Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh, fuck.” 

“Oh. Oh.” Sam murmurs. The embarrassment comes then, almost drowning her under its weight. It’s too late to turn back now, to protect her heart before it shatters completely.

So, since she’s already digging herself a giant hole, she might as well keep going.

 “Fuck, Sam, I have been in love with you for… to be honest, I lost count.” She chuckles awkwardly. Sam doesn’t laugh. Or smile. He just stares at her, which makes Y/N’s anxiety kick into overdrive. “I don’t mind if you don’t feel the same.” She lies. Honestly, it would tear her apart, to give so much of her heart to one person, her favourite person in the entire world, and receive nothing in return. “I just couldn’t go another day without telling you.”

“Y/N.” Sam speaks, his voice a lot softer now. He scoots closer, so much so their bodies are almost touching. “I’m sorry.” And then, Y/N truly wants the ground to swallow her whole. She tries to stand up, ready to leave and to forget this ever happened… until: “I wasn’t finished.” Sam chuckles. He takes a deep breath. “I was going to say I’m sorry for being so focused on my feelings and not paying attention to you.” He finds her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from his touch, and she slowly starts to calm down. “And I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He continues, and she raises a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell you how I feel about you.” He answers, and her mouth drops open. Sam leans in, cupping her cheek. “I love you so much. You’re the most gorgeous woman I know, and I’m so glad you love me, too. Although, I don’t think anyone could love you as much as I love you.” A deep heat settles on her cheeks, and Sam chuckles. “Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

“I really want you to kiss me, too.” Smiling, Sam leans in close, pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It’s perfect, like one of those rom-com kisses where the music reaches a crescendo and you feel it throughout your entire body. It’s better than anything she’d wished for. 

They sit there for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Watching as the sun disappears below the horizon, and as the stars and moon appear. “I love you, you know that?” Sam asks, and Y/N giggles.

“Yeah, I think you mentioned that once or twice.” But she still can’t stop grinning like a fool. A total, lovesick fool. Sam kisses her temple.

“Well, you better get used to hearing it more and more, because I’ll never let you forget it.”

“Good.” She smiles, leaning in for another kiss.

“I am sorry for being a pain in the ass, though.” Sam repeats, and Y/N chuckles.

“You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve more than made up for it anyway.” She grins, raising a brow, and Sam kisses her temple.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” She giggles, and Sam grins. 

“Well, I’m going to keep telling you. Because I do love you Y/N, and I never want you to forget that.” Y/N smiles, pecking his lips. 

“I could never forget you, Sam. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.” She teases, and Sam’s grin grows even wider.

“Sounds perfect.” He smirks, leaning in once more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[hearts-hunger]

josh's song || josh kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Cabin Fever Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Summary: The Cabin Fever gang celebrates Josh's birthday. || Standalone in the Cabin Fever universe

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Wife!Reader, Jake x Sparrow, Sam x Danny | Genres: pure fluff | Word Count: 3.6k | Warnings: none!

A/N: This fic was inspired by the pictures of Josh's birthday picnic - of course I had to have a little celebration with the Cabin Fever gang ♡

“Sam!” You smacked his hand away from the perfectly constructed charcuterie board in the middle of the table. “Don’t you dare!”

“Ow, what?” He withdrew his hand and pouted at you. “Josh won’t notice if one cracker is out of place, will he?”

“Now, Sam,” Jake scolded. “Don’t drive her any more crazy than she already is about this.” He tried to hand you a drink. “Here.”

“Not yet,” you said, knowing you were being a little high-strung about this party but desperately wanting everything to be perfect. This would be Josh’s first birthday as a married man, and though you knew it probably didn’t make a difference to him, nor to any of your friends gathered in your backyard for his party, it mattered to you.

Unfortunately, you were also taking your anxiety out on your friends, and you were thankful for how they were bearing with you.

“Okay, maybe just a little bit,” you conceded, taking the drink from Jake. He smirked when you spluttered a little.

“Jeez, Jake,” you managed. “How much tequila is in this, anyway?”

“Enough to chill your ass out, honey,” he said. He waved it away when you tried to hand it back to you. “No, no. You need it more than I do.”

Sam left the food alone and came to your side.

“It’s gonna be great, kiddo,” he said with an encouraging smile. “You could have given Josh a lunchable on a beach towel and he would still think it’s the best birthday ever. He’s gonna freak out when he sees all this.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, still a little doubtful. You looked over the spread of artfully mismatched rugs, pillows, futons, and little tables decorated with candles, incense, flowers, and crystals from the vast collection you and Josh shared. Everything was under a clear tent that let the sun shine through; when the sun set, the fairy lights strung across it would give the party a cosy glow. Jake had personally overseen the bar and made sure there were plenty of fixings for salty dogs; Danny, currently the lookout for when Josh got home, had curated the perfect playlist. Sam and Sparrow had been a willing pair of extra hands for you, helping you set up everything to your liking. Everything was perfect. You hoped.

“Sam’s right,” Jake said, patting your cheek. “Josh is gonna love it.”

You tried to let yourself believe it, but you were nervous for Josh to come home. The anticipation was terrible; you were so excited for him to see everything, and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his birthday with him for the first time as his wife.

Fortunately, you didn’t have long to wait. Danny and Sparrow all but ran out the back door, tripping over themselves and laughing in their haste to get outside.

“He’s here!” Danny said. “Everybody act natural!”

All of a sudden, the nervous, excited energy that had plagued you all day seemed to take hold of the rest of your small party. Jake took his drink when you shoved it into his hands, holding it like he didn’t know what to do with it; Sam rushed around to light the candles and cursed like a sailor at the lighter when it wouldn’t work. All five of you caught a case of the giggles as you tried to be casual while running around trying to make sure everything was ready.

“Okay, okay!” you laughed, trying to create order out of chaos. “Danny, help your boyfriend light the stupid candles. Jake, fix Josh’s drink. Sparrow, turn on the music and make sure nothing catches on fire.”

You got a chorus of “yes ma’am” in response as you went inside and made your way to the front door. Nothing in your house gave away the party in the backyard; by all appearances, you were welcoming your husband home to a quiet afternoon.

You’d just reached the door when Josh opened it, and you tried to keep your beaming smile in check as you greeted him.

“Hi, honey,” you said, giving him a kiss. “How was the store?”

His smile was a little bemused. “Like it always is, I guess.” He held up the grocery bag of random things you’d sent him to get just to get him out of the house. “What are we making with all this, anyway?”

You pretended to be bashful. “I thought it might be fun to cook dinner together,” you said. You touched your fingers to the crystal on his necklace. “I know it’s not fancy, but... I thought it would be fun to do for your birthday. I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.”

“No, it’s not,” he assured you quickly. He gave you a sweet smile. “I’d love to cook dinner together, baby. Thank you for thinking of it.”

You smiled up at him, barely able to contain your excitement. “Oh, I’m glad you like it. We can use some tomatoes from the garden, too — some of them are finally ready to be picked. Do you want to see?”

He set the grocery bag on the counter and took your hand, happily following you out to the back yard. His willingness and contentment in doing something so simple for his birthday was like an arrow to your heart, and you couldn’t wait to show him his surprise.

“Do you have music on outside?” he asked. He grinned. “Shall we do a little dancing in our garden, baby?”

You squeezed his hand. “Something like that, honey.”

When you opened the back door, you looked up at your husband to watch his reaction as a chorus of “surprise!” greeted him. A wide smile spread across his face, his cheeks going a little pink with pleasure and excitement; he only took a second to take things in before he looked over at you.

“Baby!” he said, his voice bright with wonder and delight. “What is this?”

You grinned. “What do you think, handsome?” You kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, Josh.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed your thoroughly, earning some enthusiastic wolf whistles from your friends. You blushed and looked up at him with adoration.

“Do you like it?” you asked softly.

He beamed. “I love it.” He kissed your nose. “I love you. Thank you.”

You watched with a beaming smile as he gave everyone a hug, thanking them for his party and telling them how happy he was to celebrate with them. When he came back to you, he took your hand and asked you to show him around, taking note of every detail like you’d hoped he would. 

“You did a beautiful job, baby,” he praised, glancing his fingers over the chunky citrine on the low table. “Are these all our crystals?”

You nodded. “I thought they would look pretty out here in the sun.”

He smiled. “They do. They look almost as pretty as you.”

You gave him a bashful smile and touched his cheek. “I have another surprise for you.”

“Bring it on, baby.”

You laughed and ushered him over to Sparrow, who was busy setting up her collection of face paint near the bar. Jake was making Danny a drink, and you saw that he was already sporting a silver moon and a dusting of stars over his cheeks.

“Oh, wonderful,” Josh said with a grin, rubbing his hands together as he took a seat on the futon in front of her. “Sparrow, I think I’ll leave the creative decisions entirely up to you.”

“How daring,” she teased, getting her paint ready. “Jake was a little nervous I’d paint him to look like a tiger or something.”

“I was not,” Jake chided. “I just wanted something a little more... subtle, that’s all.”

“I think it looks great,” you said. “Very becoming.”

Jake shrugged. “My girl knows how to pretty me up, what can I say?”

Sam came over from raiding the charcuterie board he was finally allowed to enjoy and asked Danny for a sip of the drink Jake had only just handed him. Danny, selfless as ever, handed it over without complaint.

“What face paint are you getting?” Danny asked him.

“I was thinking of doing a Jackson Pollock type thing,” he joked. “You know, just letting Sparrow splatter paint all over my face.” He handed Danny’s drink back. “Thanks for sharing, honey.”

Danny smiled. “You’re welcome, love.”

Josh tipped his face up to you when Sparrow was finished, looking for your approval. The design was simple and pretty, gold and white lines across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, a gentle curve of white with red dots over the apples of his cheeks. 

“Adorable,” you said, taking his chin and giving him a kiss.

“Hey lovebirds,” Sparrow said. “Look at me.”

You did, and you smiled when she took a couple pictures of you. She sent them to you, and you laughed out loud at the one with Josh's big, wide-eyed smile and a paintbrush held in front of his face.

“This is the one I'm posting,” you told him.

He grinned up at you. “Awesome.”

He stood and brought another futon over. “Can I do your face paint?” he asked. “Not that I think Sparrow wouldn’t do a terrific job, but I have an idea I want to try.”

You smiled. “Sure, honey.”

You took a seat, and he and Sparrow shared her paints as she gave Danny a dusting of little pink hearts over his cheeks.

“You have the prettiest features, baby,” Josh said gently.

You blushed, watching the almost reverent way he studied your face as he thought out his design.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

He met your eyes and smiled. “I love you.”

You leaned close and kissed him. “I love you too.”

He let you kiss him for a moment before he drew back.

“Now, no more distracting me, sweetheart,” he said seriously. “I have to concentrate.”

You breathed a laugh and sat still as he began to paint. The brush tickled your cheek, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t smile, baby,” Josh said, though he was smiling too.

“But it tickles,” you said.

He laughed. “I know, I’m sorry.” He touched a few fingers to your chin and gently turned your head. “Try not to smile, just for a minute.”

When he was finally done, he set the paints aside and pulled his phone out. “Okay, now give me a big smile.”

You grinned, and you liked that he smiled just because you did.

“There,” he said, showing you the picture. “What do you think?”

He’d given you delicate golden sunbeams over your cheeks, some of them dripping artfully, some of them ending in little white stars.

“You made me beautiful, Josh.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “You’re always beautiful, baby. I just added the sunshine I see every time I look at you.”

When everybody’s face was painted — Sparrow gave Sam a splash of daisies on his cheeks, and in return he gave her lovely blue and white clouds — you gathered around the circular table of snacks to eat, drink, and be merry. The afternoon passed into evening as your little family talked and laughed and shared fond memories of the birthday boy, each of you getting steadily more tipsy and giggly and sunkissed. The boys brought out guitars from your music room and played for a long while, and they invited you and Sparrow to sing along when they played an actual song instead of just inventing one on the fly.

“When are we doing presents?” Sam asked eventually. “Danny and I got you the greatest gift ever.”

Danny smiled. “It is pretty good, actually.”

Josh looked to you. “What do you think, my lovely master of ceremonies? Is now a good time to do presents?”

“It’s your party, sweetheart,” you said with a smile, standing to get his present and bring them over. “We can do whatever you want.”

Josh stood and followed you to the table where the presents had been set up.

“What if I want to take you to bed, Mrs. Kiszka?” he asked in a low voice, a handsome smirk on his face as he snuck a hand into your back pocket.

“Josh,” you scolded, though you were sure your blushing smile gave you away. You gave him a quick kiss. “Patience, lover. You’re getting another birthday surprise later tonight.”

“Oh?” he said, giving you a pleased grin. “Well, in that case, I guess I can try and behave.”

You laughed and gave his shoulder a playful smack as you gathered his presents, and the two of you rejoined your friends under the cosy twinkle of fairy lights with an armful of gifts.

“That’s from us,” Jake said when Josh picked his first present, a stack of two gifts tied together with a pretty ribbon.

“I see you let Sparrow do the wrapping,” Josh teased. “Wise man.”

He started to undo the ribbon but hesitated, looking back up at Jake and Sparrow.

“Hey, what are we doing for your birthday?” he asked.

Jake grinned. “You’re just now remembering that we share a birthday, huh?”

Everybody laughed at that, and Josh gave his twin an affectionate eye-roll.

“Ha-ha, alright. What are we doing, though?”

Jake shrugged. “No clue.” He looked over at his brand-new wife of only a few months and gave her a smile. “Maybe my Mrs. Kiszka has something up her sleeve too.”

Sparrow pinked, trying to be nonchalant but given away by the smile she couldn’t hide.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she teased. “Josh is the favorite twin, so he gets the party.”

Jake laughed. “Oh, I see how it is.”

Sparrow took Jake’s hand but looked over at you, both of you smiling when your eyes met. Everybody but the twins knew that you were doing a pirate-themed birthday bash for Jake in a few days. A new pirate-themed bar downtown was having its grand opening next week, but Sparrow had sweet-talked them into letting her throw a private party for Jake Kiszka of Greta Van Fleet before they were technically open to the public.

“Well, since I’m the favorite twin,” Josh said tartly, “I expect quite the tremendous gift.”

You smiled, knowing he was only teasing; Josh would be touched and thrilled at anything his best friends gave him.

“So there’s two gifts, obviously,” Sparrow said as he started to unwrap the smaller present, sounding a little unsure. “I picked out the one you’re holding, but it’s.... well, you’ll see.”

Josh gave her a sweet smile. “You don’t think I’ll like it?”

“Well...”

He opened the little box to reveal a quartz necklace, the exact same necklace he was wearing. His laugh was bright and musical, sweet and surprised.

“Look at that,” he said, grinning ear to ear as he held it up for everyone to see. “Sparrow, you know me so well.”

“I didn’t know until you walked out here earlier that you already had it,” she said, her expression caught between regret that he already had it and relief that he didn’t hate it. “I can return it and get something else.”

“No way,” Josh said, putting it on to rest against his chest with the other necklace. “You can never have too much of a good thing.”

He reached over his twin and gave Sparrow’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I love it, Sparrow. Thank you very much.”

She gave him a warm smile. “You’re welcome, Josh. Happy birthday.”

He opened Jake’s present next, a handsome leather journal and a set of nice pens.

“Thought it was better for songwriting than that notebook of yours that’s falling apart,” Jake said.

Josh smiled as he thumbed through the pages, admiring the feel of the journal. “It’s wonderful. Thank you, Jake.”

Sam and Danny’s present was next, and all of you gushed over it.

“You got me the Master for my birthday?” Josh asked with a delighted laugh. He held the black-hooded figurine up to show you. “Look at this, baby. It’s the guy from all our posters.”

“It holds the amethyst, too,” Sam said, nodding to the crystal sphere they’d given him with the figurine.

“Or a candle,” Danny added. “Or whatever you want him to hold, I guess.”

Josh gave them a charming smile. “I love it. Thank you.”

Your present was last, and you watched his face to see his reaction. You hoped he liked it; it wasn’t much, but you hoped it would be meaningful to him.

“Oh, baby.”

You flushed with pleasure at the wonder in his voice. “You like them?”

He held up the delicate gold earrings, his special triangle symbol dangling from each hoop. They were pretty in the soft light, and Josh tenderly brushed his thumb over them.

“I love them, baby,” he said gently. He turned to you and gave you a kiss. “I love them. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

He handed them to you. “Can you put them on for me?”

You did, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when you were done.

“How do they look?” he asked.

“Very handsome,” you said sincerely. Josh always looked handsome, and jewelry only highlighted his natural beauty. You smiled. “I’m glad you like them, honey.”

You and Danny served the cake after all the wrapping paper had been cleared away, and the six of your decided on a round of cards before you watched a movie on the projector Sam and Jake had set up earlier. Danny and Jake were both unfamiliar with the rules to the game Sam picked, so he and Sparrow jumped into a complicated explanation that their partners tried to sort through.

“This is gonna take a minute,” Josh said, leaning close to you.

You gave a soft laugh. “Maybe we should get a drink while we wait.”

He stood and gave you a hand up, and you walked together over to the bar.

“What can I make you, honey?” he asked.

“A salty dog, please,” you said.

He grinned and set about making two cocktails. “My kind of woman.”

He handed you your drink and clinked his glass against yours. “Cheers, baby.”

You tipped your face up for a kiss, and he obliged you. You took a moment just to look at him when you broke apart, admiring the softness of his features in the warm glow of the fairy lights, the glint of gold from his earrings, the way his face paint was a little smudged over his rosy cheeks.

“You want to know something?” you asked softly.

He hummed in agreement.

You touched a hand to his cheek. “I think you shine like the sun, Joshua.”

He smiled, warm and beautiful, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. 

“Thank you, baby.”

You kissed him again, drinking in the feel of him, the gentleness of the warm spring night, the sound of your friends’ laughter mixing with the sound of a familiar John Denver song.

“This is almost a birthday song for you,” you said.

He smiled. “What do you mean?”

“It reminds me of you,” you said. “And it says ‘born in the month of June,’ but we can change it to April.”

You draped your arm over his shoulder and played with the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

“It’s called Eli’s Song,” you said. “But I think we can change it to Josh’s Song. I don’t think Mr. Denver would mind.”

Josh chuckled. “No, I don’t think he’d mind.”

He set his drink aside and pulled you close, swaying you gently to the music.

“You’re starting out strong, you get a kick out of life,” you sang, forgetting to be bashful of your singing voice as Josh smiled. “You like to sing songs and be in the spotlight.”

You gave him a gentle kiss. “And when everybody's watching you, you shine so bright.”

His smile was bright as a sunrise and twice as pretty.

“I love you, Mrs. Kiszka.” He peppered kisses all over your face until you dissolved in giggles.

“And I love to hear you laugh,” he said, his voice warm and affectionate. “I’m so glad I married you, and I’m so glad I get to spend all my birthdays with you.”

You brushed your fingers over his smile. “Me too,” you said softly.

He kissed you until your friend started calling for you, and then he made a display of ignoring them and kissing you some more as he flipped them the bird.

“Josh,” you giggled. He grinned and kissed you one last time before you joined your family again.

“Getting a special birthday present from your wife?” Sam teased.

“Oh, Sammy,” you said with a smirk. “That’s just a little taste of the special present he’s getting tonight.”

Sam clapped his hands over his ears. “Oh, god, forget I said anything.”

You and Josh got a healthy amount of ribbing as Sparrow dealt the cards, and your conversation continued with funny stories and inside jokes as you played. Danny and Jake eventually caught on to the game and then became the most competitive, and your back yard was filled with the comforting chaos of your best friends’ laughter and teasing.

You looked over at Josh, and your heart wobbled when you saw he was already looking at you.

He smiled. “Hi, pretty girl.”

You blushed and gave him a heartsick smile. “Hi, Joshy.” You took his hand. “Do you like your party?”

He brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. “I love it, baby. Thank you so much for putting it together. It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad,” you said. “You deserve a perfect birthday, Josh.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and you melted against him. There, surrounded by your dear friends, celebrating the love of your life — everything was perfect. 

“Happy birthday, Josh,” you said gently. “I love you.”

You felt his sunshine smile.

“My sweet baby. I love you too.”

josh taglist: @way-to-go-lad

gvf taglist: @malany-gvf @spark-my-nature @eearevee @madneedshelp @demonrat444 @josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny @gretavandann @sacredjake @myleftsock @joshskittytickler21 @hellowgoodbye @watchingovergvf2 @fearfulspirit @mywaysoon @carbondancingthroughtime @caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran @shesawomaninadream @serendipiti

@gvfrry @ohhey1293 @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf  @jakeydoesit  @gretasmokerising @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @bowievanfleet @s0livagant @strugglingtodoshit @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavansteph @gretavanbitches @myownparadise96 @luverleaver @weightofdreamz @greatervanfleet @maedesculpaeusoubi @jakekiszkasbestie @pineapple-photographer @baguettejuliette @alexxavicry @levi-wants-ur-bones  @carlybubs @cowboysamkiszka @dannyandthekiszkas @jordierama @slutforsteve @starshine-wagner

[zmediaoutlet]

soon or never

for @wincestwednesdays - choices

A hand on Sam's shoulder. Hard at first, making him jerk like waking up from a coma, and then softer. "Hey, hey." He blinks, sniffs, wipes his own hand hard over his face. Takes a few seconds to see: the sun sliding toward setting, over a long low motel, with a nearly-empty lot, in which the Impala's parked in front of room number eleven, the engine off and Sam pulled out of a dead sleep with Dean, yes, still holding his shoulder. Warm through his spare jacket.

"Where," he says. Croaks. Jeez.

"Boise," Dean says, and Sam frowns. That's—three hours from Grangeville, the way Dean drives. He thought they'd be a lot closer to home before they stopped for the night. He squints over the seat and Dean's mouth goes thin, and then he shrugs, and takes his hand off Sam's shoulder. "You were moaning in your sleep. Not the fun kind."

Room eleven is blue carpet, blue thick curtains, blue blankets on the two queen beds. Two. Sam's still kind of dizzy. Not enough sleep and too much bloodloss. Dean brings in all the bags himself, moving around where Sam's pinned in the entryway, and then he says, "You planning on taking up work as the human statue?" and so Sam moves—to the table, with its blue-upholstered chair. He tries not to flinch when he sits but that's a lost cause. He keeps holding the bandage on his side. Even with all the stitches it feels like his guts might just spill out, everywhere. Ruin all this blue.

"Dude, you are out of it," Dean says. A thin kind of jocular. Somehow when Sam wasn't paying attention he lost his jacket, his boots. Rolling up his bright-red sleeves. "You getting your weird antibiotic thing again?"

Could be. A little dizzy, a little off. His stomach warm, partway to queasy. There's a hole in it, so. Queasy isn't so bad, as these things go. "Guess that means you're not gonna want the hot & sour I just ordered, huh," Dean says. Sam wrinkles his nose and Dean huffs. "You're gonna have to use your words at some point, buddy-boy."

"I'm not your buddy, pal," Sam says. Throat crackly again but he tries to smile.

"I'm not your pal, champ," Dean says, eyes crinkling at the corners, but he's hardly smiling at all.

Dean brings Sam a glass of cool water from the tap. Sam sips, careful. He's watched for a second, for what Sam doesn't know—in case the glass explodes and cuts him to ribbons, in case he chokes on water and suffocates on dry land—but then Dean seems satisfied that he won't immediately expire and goes to dig in his bag, set on the bed closer to the door. The room full of light, suffusing gold against the sea of blue, and it's good just to sit and look at his brother. The tips of his hair backlit amber. That red shirt, which somehow escaped the day without bloodstains. His square capable hands, tugging out pajama pants, and his forearms ringed in bruises, and his face the familiar set of—just getting to the next thing, and the next thing after that. Like if he sits down he won't ever get up.

"Why am I always the one getting hurt?" Sam says. Dean jerks. "Hole in my gut, last night. My arm, last year. Basically in a coma the year before that. When's it your turn?"

Dean leans one thigh against the bed, pajama pants held up against his stomach. After a second just looking at his bag, he says: "Broke my leg, back when that Levi nearly caught us at Bobby's."

"That when I went into a coma the first time?" Sam says, bright, and Dean snorts and says, "Don't think that was the first time, Sammy," but he says it a little more relaxed.

The water did help, and the sitting up in the light, and just—Dean. Here, and not somewhere with a monster where Sam didn't know what he was doing. If he was okay. Sam takes another moment to drink him in, until Dean finally looks up from his bag and meets his eyes, and Sam smiles again and Dean—Sam doesn't know what that expression is, but Dean's here instead of in some black pit in his head and so that's good enough for Sam.

It's hard to take his jacket off sitting down, strains his gut. "Don't pull your stitches," Dean says. "Hey, don't roll your eyes. That's some high quality fake insurance paying for those stitches."

"Doctor would've done it for free," Sam says. A grunt. He gets free of the second sleeve and drops it on the table. Boots then, but—

"Oh, this is pathetic," Dean says, but soft, and Sam stops toeing at the heel when Dean's suddenly there, on his knees on the blue carpet. His hand sure, dragging down the back of Sam's calf, and Sam picks his foot up obediently when Dean taps the heel and lets Dean tug it off. He makes a face and—yeah, that's not great. He sets the one boot down, though, and Sam gives him the other foot and Dean pulls him clear, and then just—holds Sam's foot, braced against his thigh. Fine with Sam, who wiggles his toes inside his socks. "Don't try to fumigate the room, man," Dean says, nose wrinkled. "Swear, you could've just waved these things at the werewolves and they woulda gone down, quick."

"You love it," Sam says. Dean licks his lips, and presses them together. His eyes some other place.

Dean's fingers flex around his ankle. Sam presses down with his toes, rocks a little, and when Dean looks up Sam raises his eyebrows. Dean shakes his head, but he slides his hands up Sam's shin, and then go around the back of his knee, up the back of his thigh. Squeeze there, hard. Hard enough it hurts, but then the muscle shocks into softness, and Sam sighs, and so then back down to his calf, Dean's fingers moving in hard firm circles. To the tendons in his ankle, squeezing, so that Sam scoots down further into the chair, his body turning slowly to jelly. "Oh, yeah?" Dean says, quiet, and picks up Sam's other foot to set on his other thigh, and repeats the whole process—not making it sleazy, or like he's trying to get Sam going, but just—making all the parts of Sam that are sore as hell after nearly two days in the dark hunted woods back into something that feels like his again. Or like Dean's again. Hard to tell anymore where the line between those lies. These days Sam isn't looking that hard.

When Dean's finished with the left leg he slides his hand back up Sam's calf, hooking there behind his knee. Quiet on his knees, and quiet in the room, too. Not even the sound of traffic outside. Just the two of them breathing, in all this blue. Dean's bruised forearms, and his throat ringed in murky purple, too, and dark under his eyes. The doctor, after stitching up the bullet hole but before she gave Sam the bottle of antibiotics, telling him to look out for his brother.

He lets his feet slide off to the outside of Dean's thighs, and reaches out a hand. Dean ignores it but lifts up on his knees, between Sam's legs, and Sam touches the corner of his scabbed eye and his jaw with too-thick stubble and drags a thumb down the column of his throat. Feels how it bobs. Waits, then, relaxed in the chair, while Dean unbuttons his flannel shirt, and lifts his undershirt, and touches the bandage. Running his fingers along the tape.

"Gonna rip some hair out when we gotta change that," Dean says. His eyes tight at the corners. "Free wax day at the spa."

"Lucky me," Sam says, dry, and watches the air go out of Dean.

He could ask. Right now, he could ask and he'd get the truth. Only—what's the point of asking a question you already know the answer to?

"Hey, Dean," he says, soft. Dean's eyes meet his. Everything in them, unsaid. Sam smiles, small. "When we get home, am I getting another massage?"

Dean scoffs. Stands up using Sam's thighs to brace—"Oof," Sam says, gamely—and Dean says, "You're gonna be lucky to get any at all, if you don't shower off all that werewolf stank." Sam smiles bigger and Dean rolls his eyes. "Oh, yeah, you're adorable."

A knock on the motel room door, then—the Chinese delivery—and before Dean goes Sam catches his forearm, squeezes. Dean takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he says, quiet.

Sam watches him take the delivery, tip the kid in cash. The room filling immediately with the smell of fried wontons because Dean always asks for a triple serving. "You eating, or what?" Dean says, dumping the bags on the table, and Sam sits up straight, ignoring the strain on his gut. "I'm eating," he says, and Dean sets the carton of soup firmly in front of him, and Sam thinks—if he hadn't made it back in time—

But he did, and Dean's alive and sitting here, bitching about how they put in way more broccoli than beef, so there's no more call to think about it. He eats his soup, and steals Dean's wontons.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Hibbing 911: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: A case brings you all the way to South Dakota where Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum are. Jody has to remember not to mention that your kids are with her in fear of what you might do with that information.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Sam and Dean head over to the rooms where the cops are staying and easily find room 304. Sam jimmies the lock open and barges in, not expecting to see anyone inside. However, Jody and Donna are, and the blonde jumps out of her skin when she sees Jody pull out a machete.

"What the heck is that for?!" Donna gasps at Jody.

"Y/N told us what was going on."

"Sheriff Cuse is a vampire."

"She just pulled out a machete," Donna says at the same time as Jody.

"Donna saw his teeth."

"What the cuss?! A vampire?!" Donna cries out.

"Shh, lady, the grown-ups are talking," you say. Dean slaps your arm and you pull back with a frown. "Ow!"

"You promised to behave."

"Sorry Donna," you roll your eyes.

"I don't think you meant that."

"Do you want to give her the talk?" Dean asks Jody.

"Yeah, we'll meet you out there."

You, Sam, and Dean give the two women some time to talk everything through. Jody is going over monster after monster so it takes some time for Donna to wrap her head about this. When they're done, they meet you three outside in the parking lot.

"Are you good?"

"Wait. So, when we were at the weight-loss spa--"

"Monsters. Sucking on your fat. We took care of them."

"Ah, jeez. I knew losing ten pounds that fast was too good to be true." She turns to you. "You're a witch?"

"Ex-witch."

"You're soulless?"

"You're perceptive."

Donna takes out a piece of paper from her jacket and hands it to Sam. It has an address on it that she got from the room.

"Here. Maybe this is where Sheriff Vampire went."

"It could be anything." Sam takes out his phone and puts the address into his maps. "What's there?"

"It looks like it's an old farm outside of town."

"It could be something," Dean shrugs.

"It's the only lead we got," Donna says.

"We? With all due respect, Sheriff, vampires are far more dangerous than the Johns you throw in jail. You're gonna sit this one out."

"Stuff you, Dean!" Dean's eyebrows raise in shock. "Or whatever your real name is."

"Hanscum's good."

"Jody--"

"I said she's good," she cuts your husband off.

"Don't blame us when she dies. It's on you, Miller," you say and walk to the car.

Everyone piles into the car, leaving the two brothers in the front and all the ladies in the back. You're squished between both of them but it beats being stuck between two Winchesters. You're looking at the road in front of you but you can feel Donna's eyes on you the entire time.

"Stop staring at me," you finally say and look at her.

"You were much nicer at the spa."

You choose not to say anything to this. You really don't want to hear about it from Sam or Dean. It takes Dean thirty minutes to get to the farm where they grab their weapons from the trunk.

"If you're gonna swing, swing hard. Heads gotta roll with vamps," Dean says and hands her a machete.

"Got it," she nods.

You advance toward the barn and peek through one of the windows. Sheriff Cuse is sitting at a desk doing something. You look back at Sam and Dean and nod twice to let them know he's inside and when you look back, he's gone. Two seconds later, his head pops into view and you jump back in shock.

"Run!" he warns.

Before you know it, you're hit on the back of the head by something hard, causing you to fall to the ground knocked out. When you wake up, you're tied to a wooden pillar inside the barn. Sam and Dean are tied up next to you, Donna is tied to some tractor machine, and Jody is tied to a chair.

The youngest one who looks like a hippy chick walks over to Dean and runs her hands down his chest. He struggles to get away from her but she just laughs.

"It's all love, pretty boy. All of you will become all of us. We won't waste one bit."

"Okay, Mufasa, enough with the 'Circle of Life' shit. You're a vampire. You're scum. End of story." She runs her hands down his body and starts to remove his belt. "Yeah, I'm not in the mood."

"It's not enough that you kill people. You've got to rob them, too?" Jody asks.

"We scavenge. We don't sip and go. We use every part of the buffalo." Hippy Chick looks at you and notices the necklace you have on that represents your first daughter. She slinks up to your side and touches the jewel. "Pretty necklace."

"Don't you touch that!" Dean shouts.

Hippy Chick smirks and yanks the necklace off your neck.

"Take it. I don't care about it," you shrug.

"Starr, please, let them go," Sheriff Cuse begs. "I helped you out. I ditched that video of Catfish killing that man."

"We didn't want favors, Len. We wanted you," she glares.

"What use am I now? I don't even kill people. I'm on bagged blood."

"I beg your pardon? I saw you with your vampire face standing over Sheriff Goodhill!" Donna accuses.

"No, I found her," he stutters. "I smelled her blood. I couldn't help myself. My fangs came out but I didn't bite her."

"Aren't you a hero?" Dean scoffs.

"It's your nature to eat people. A vampire who doesn't feed is like a tiger eating salad. We're not gonna stop, Len. We'll take down every person in your sweet, little Hibbing till you come back to the nest."

"Why do you want him so badly? What did he do for you?"

"Len found me crying on the curb after my daddy kicked me out. I got in Len's van and the rest is wavy gravy."

"What, Len's like your Charlie Manson?" Jody asks.

"Charlie couldn't hold a candle to Len. He taught us everything. It was liberating. Then one day he's gone. We only found him because he got his picture in some newspaper for running a police retreat, of all things. You didn't just go straight. You became a damn cop. Now, that is wild, man. Are you feeling dirty, Len? Because we're about to have ourselves a bloodbath."

"Don't you want to know why I left?"

"I know why. You got boring."

"I got a conscience. Prey that begged for their lives... It was like even if I used every part of what I taught you, it's still wrong."

"You walked away?" Sam asks.

"I tried to protect people after so many years of gutting them. That's why I'm here. I'll join your bloody caravan if it means you won't kill these people."

"We aren't killing anyone. You are."

"You don't have to do this," Jody begs.

"Kiss my ass," Len glares.

"We love you, brother, but we don't know who you are anymore." Starr takes one of the machetes and beheads Len. "Can't say we didn't try."

While they were talking, Donna and Dean had been trying to get free of their binds. Your husband breaks free and swipes one of the machetes to attack the vampires. He is too skilled for the vampire to react to his attack, so he didn't see him coming... literally.

One of the male vampires hisses and charges after Dean just as Donna breaks free. She grabs a machete and starts swinging. Between the two of them, they are able to kill all the vampires inside the barn including Hippy Chick.

"Hakuna Matata, lady," Donna smirks as she slices Hippy Chick's head off.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about!" Dean smiles.

You, Sam, and Jody are released from your binds. All of them leave the barn to start the clean-up process while you stay behind. You watch them get far enough away from you before you look at Hippy Chick's body. Dean cleans off one of the machetes when he notices you're not with them. He frowns and walks back to the barn and peeks inside to see what you're doing.

You walk around her body before kneeling next to it. You reach inside her pocket and pull out the necklace she ripped off your neck. You stare at it for what seems like hours when it's only been seconds. You stand up and place the necklace back around your neck.

"Don't ever touch this again," you glare at her body.

Dean can't help but feel at peace when he sees this. He doesn't think no one is ever completely soulless. When Sam didn't have his soul, he felt like some part of it was still stuck inside of him. It was a small part otherwise he'd have killed Dean the second they met again. He truly believes some part of your soul is still stuck inside your body. Memories of the past are still stuck inside your head, and he believes that if they worked hard enough, they can influence you to do good.

You're in there somewhere. He just has to get that part of you out.

He leaves the bar before you see him and rejoins Sam's side. Donna and Jody are at the front of the car while the brothers are standing by the trunk.

"Are you okay?"

"Other than feeling like I want to hurl, sure. I just chopped off a vampire's head."

"You were great at that," Jody smiles.

"Thanks. I don't know, knowing that these things are out there makes the world seem bigger... darker." 

"You know, if you want any pointers on how to fight this crazy shit, I'm willing to fill you in on what kills what."

"I'd like that," Donna smiles.

"Are you okay?" Sma asks his brother.

"Yeah. You know, for the first time I've been back, I didn't feel like the Mark was pushing me."

"First time?"

"All I know is, back there, killing those vamps... I felt like me again."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, that's step one. We'll take it day by day."

Everyone but Dean finishes up and piles into the car. Dean looks around for you and finds you leaning against a tree in thought. You look at the necklace and rub your thumb across the jewel. 

One of the nurses brings your daughter wrapped in a pink blanket. She isn't crying anymore, but she is hungry and desperate for her mother's affection.

"Here you go," the nurse smiles and lays her in your arms.

You just sob in happiness at finally feeling her in your arms. She has a beautiful head of hair, and you can only imagine what it's going to look like once it grows out. Her eyes are a dull blue, but they will get their color in a few months. Freckles softly dance across her cheeks and nose just like her father has. She is perfect in every sense of the word.

"Hi, baby. You're my little angel," you cry and finally give her, her very first kiss on the head. "I'm your mommy."

"I'm your daddy," Dean says emotionally from right next to you.

"She's absolutely gorgeous. Do you have a name for her yet?" the nurse who brought her to you asks.

"Joanna Beth Winchester."

"Are you coming?"

Dean's voice pulls you away from a memory of the past.

"It's about time," you sigh. "I thought you were going to chick flick moment forever."

Just like that, the past stays in the past.

x

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[fallingintolife]

Secrets and Sickness

Request: I've been sick for 5 days now and besides the fact that I feel like crud it's really getting me down. So it got me thinking I bet Sam would take care of his girl, you know just doting on her until she's better. So if you have the time or want can you tell us about Sam taking care of his girl after getting a real bad cold?

Summary: The boys are on a hunt when you start to feel sick…but of course instead of telling your boyfriend Sam, you try to handle it yourself…Spoiler-That doesn't go so well…

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings: A little bit of angst because Sam is worried, and talk of a cold

Word Count: 1,704

A/N: Anon, I'm sorry I'm just getting this to you but I hope you are feeling much better by now 💕 I'm sending you all the love and hugs along with some nice caring Sammy 💕

It started with just having the sniffles at first; running and stuffy nose, normal allergy/ weird weather changes like symptoms. So when Sam and Dean went off on a hunt for a few days, leaving you at the Bunker, you were just excited to have some time to yourself. Until day two of being home alone when you woke up with your throat feeling so sore and raw, like a dragon had blown fire down it, causing even just swallowing to be highly painful. Throughout day two was when your cough started. It was like a tickle at first but than escalated into feeling like something was stuck in your throat that you just couldn’t get out. So now, here you were, on day three, five in the morning coughing your lungs out, while trying to get up out of bed  to get water, but feeling too weak because of being dehydrated. That and probably because of the fever you most definitely were running. Sam had told you last night that him and Dean would be home by lunch time today so you only had about six hours to go.

You knew that if you had told Sam you were sick he would have driven through the night to get home to you but you knew it wasn’t that serious. I mean it was a cold! Everyone got colds! You were a hunter and you’d be damned if you were going to complain about it, especially to Sam and Dean. So you allowed yourself two more minutes on the floor before getting your shit together. You were fine.

Sam knew the minute he had called you last night and you didn’t pick up, but instead texted him that something wasn’t right. Whenever you two were ever apart you always wanted to talk to him on the phone so he immediately knew something was up. He had told Dean about how you were acting and had asked if they could just drive through the night so he could make sure you were okay. Dean didn’t hesitate, and continued to drive.

Dean liked you and Dean didn’t truly like nor trust many people, but he did like and trust you.You made Sam happy, so automatically that made Dean happy. Not that he would ever admit it to you but he liked having you around just in general. You made the best pie, could even hold your liquor as well as the boys, and also you just cared. Not just about Sam, but Dean too and that meant a lot.

You and Sam had been dating for the last two and a half years but known each other for an additional four. You and Sam just clicked. You both knew each other’s deepest darkest secrets but still loved each other which definitely meant something. You loved each other, truly.

As soon as Dean parked Baby, Sam was already up the stairs and in the Bunker.

“Y/N! Hey honey, we’re home.” He froze mid step down the hallway to the bedroom you both shared when he heard a loud cough, and then realized you were in the middle of the hallway leaning against the wall.

Sam didn’t remember how he managed to get to you but next thing he knew you were in his arms. You were sweaty which had to be because your body was burning up. You were running a fever, a high fever at that. “What the hell Y/N? Jeez you're burning up…” Kissing your forehead, while picking you up he headed toward you and Sam’s bedroom.

You tried to argue, to say something but you didn’t have the energy, and to be honest you weren’t really even sure if Sam really was here or if you were hallucinating from your fever. Once he got you into the bedroom, Sam quickly stripped you out of your sweat soaked clothes as he waited for Dean to grab the thermometer that he had yelled for as soon as he had heard Dean enter the Bunker. Just when he had gotten you into one of his t-shirts was when Dean entered.

“Shit, kiddo.” Dean grumbled in disapproval, as he handed Sam the thermometer. Luckily, he had grabbed the quick reading forehead one.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

102.8

Sam ran his hand through his hair. How long had you been running a fever and how long had it been his high? And who knows… What if it was even higher? This wasn’t good. He could tell by the sound of your cough and the small rattle sound that came from your chest when you breathed that if you didn’t already have pneumonia it was headed that way. Another loud wet cough racked through your body.

“Make sure she drinks this and get her to cough all that shit up. I’m gonna make a run into town to get her some medicine. I shouldn’t be long.” Placing a cold wet washcloth on your head, while placing tissues, a trash can, and a bottle of Gatorade next to you, Dean quickly made his way to the Impala, keys already in hand.

With a sigh, Sam gently maneuvered you so that you were laying in-between his legs and against his chest so he could support you. Placing the cold washcloth back on your forehead, you whined in protest and began coughing.

"I know, I know, baby. It's alright. Here, sit up. I need you to cough all that up." Sam helped support you as you coughed up all the stuff that had been sitting in your lungs into the trash can. Rubbing your back gently, he continued to praise you until you lean back against him. He sat the trash can back down and opened the Gatorade for you. "That's my girl. Here, I need you to drink some of this okay? There we go. Thank you baby." He pushed your sweat hair out of your face as you drank down the lemonade. After you drank about half, he sat it back down.

"Sammy?"

You croaked as you looked up at him with groggy, sad eyes. He knew you didn't feel well and as much as he wanted to lecture you about not saying anything now wasn't the time. Right now you needed rest and you needed Sam to help you feel better.

"Yeah, love?"

"I don't feel good." Sam frowned as he kissed the top of your head.

"I know, baby. It's alright, I'm here now. I've got you. Get some rest okay? I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here when you wake up." You snuggled into his chest too exhausted to say anything else.

Dean had come back after twenty months with a slew of medicines for you. Sam had gotten you to take them and then he and Dean took turns (after Dean insisted…)  to make sure you were getting a new dose every few hours. You didn't even wake up until noon the next day.

You woke up with your chest and throat killing you. You guessed it was from the coughing. As you rubbed your face wondering when Sam and Dean would get home was when you realized that your head was most definitely not laying on a pillow. You let out a groan as you covered your face with your hand. So you weren't dreaming. They really were home. You tried to cover your cough when you felt Sam chuckled.

"Hey, there's my girl. How are you feeling?" He was smiling down at you as he pushed your hair back, partially to comfort you and partially to make sure your fever was still gone. You avoid eye contact as you mumbled, "I'm good. I'm sorry I worried you…" Sam frowned. He gently sat up, you still in his lap, as he looked at you. You tried to put your face into his chest, but he carefully moved your chin upwards for you to look at him.

"Hey, it's okay Y/N. I mean, yeah I was kind of concerned when I saw you laying on the floor when I got home…" He let out a nervous chuckle, as he ran his other hand through his hair. You tried to move your face away from him but he gently held your face still. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick, honey?" You just shrugged, still looking down as your eyes filled with tears, a cough building in your chest and began to cough. Sam frowned in concern and hugged you gently to him. He didn't understand why you wouldn't tell him that you were that sick…

After a few minutes of silence you looked up at him.

"It's just a cold. I mean I'm a hunter Sam. A stupid little cold shouldn't be able to affect me like this. You and Dean have gone through so much worse…" You looked at as another coughing fit began. Sam looked at you uneasily, as he grabbed some water for you. As you drank, Sam spoke.

"Y/N, everyone gets sick. Even me and Dean, and this isn't just a cold baby. You definitely have bronchitis. Luckily Dean and I got home when we did so you didn't end up with pneumonia. It doesn't matter what Dean or I have gone through, sickness can kill too…" You watched Sam as he spoke and could see how scared he truly was. You put your water bottle down, and gently put your hand on his face.

"I hear you. I'm sorry. Next time I'll tell you." Sam gave you a small smile and kissed you nose, which made you giggle and then cough. Before you laid back down, Sam gave you your next dose of medicine before you snuggled into him. You noticed he had already pulled up a new TV show you both had been wanting to watch. You smiled at him and he just pulled you closer into him.

Twenty minutes in and you were already out. Sam didn't care though. He loved you and he was going to take care of you. He was going to show you that, I mean he had already told you he wasn't going anywhere, and he meant it.