#Thank you so much for drawing Sammy I’ll never get over it

[wildrangers]

Chance Encounter {3} // Jake Kiszka

Jake Kiszka x fem! reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: After a chance encounter at the bar, what happens when she realizes she now has to work with Jake and the guys?

begin here // continue here

Multi-part, lovers to friends to lovers tale ahead!

Warnings: I don't think any this chapter, let me know if I missed anything!

*18+ only, smut is featured in chapter one and will be back next chapter*

“I think it’s absolutely absurd—let’s do it” Josh grinned and you excitedly clapped your hands before grabbing your phone. You had just pitched his Rhinestoned Diary and he was, surprisingly, willing to give it a go.

“Just say whatever comes to mind and I’m sure it’ll be great or at the least very amusing” you encouraged.

You and the guys fought back laughter as he went on and on for about a minute before he yelled, “Now fuck off!”

Everyone gathered around to watch it and you giggled throughout, “Josh this is perfect, seriously.”

“I mean, it’s a little ridiculous…” Jake argued.

“Just because I’m the center of the attention right now doesn’t mean you have to be rude about it.” Josh replied, rolling his eyes.

“Josh, you are, like, always the center of attention” Jake retorted.

“Boys, stop!” you called as you saw Josh go to snap back at his twin. “You’re on in 30 minutes so let’s not get into a brawl, yeah?”

The two glared at one another before walking off to separate areas of the dressing room. “Do they usually get worked up that quickly?” you mumbled to Sammy, who shrugged.

“It usually blows up and over pretty quickly. They haven’t come to throwing punches in years, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose” you mumbled, sitting down to edit Josh’s Rhinestoned Diary before their set began.

***

Jake always forgot how much he loved being onstage until he was back up there. He knew it brought him joy but the magnitude of it always caught him off guard despite all the years he’d been doing it. The next show was back-to-back with this one so everyone was piled on the bus as it rumbled onto the highway.

“Bunks have long been claimed I’m assuming?” you questioned from the couch, Reginald curled up on your lap as Rose rested her head on your feet.

“Everyone always keeps the same one tour to tour but the extra is all yours…here, I’ll show you, it’s right next to Jake’s” Danny offered and you followed him into the back. Shit. He’d forgotten you’d be sleeping right across from him whenever you were all traveling overnight.

He’d been working hard to ignore his accelerated heart rate or nervous stomach whenever you were nearby but he feared they would never totally go away. He kept reminding himself that nothing would ever happen and the fling was a one-off thing. It was just taking his body awhile to catch up to that fact.

Jake glanced at the clock and yawned, deciding to just crash. He said goodnight to the guys and patted Danny on the back as he passed him on his way to the bunks. You glanced up from where you were curled up with a book in your bunk and smiled lightly at him.

“Hey roomie” you greeted and he grinned back.

“Living arrangements okay back here?” he asked, keeping it vague so no one would understand the implied question if they overheard them.

You shrugged, rolling over onto your side to face him fully. “I can’t complain, what with these handy privacy shades” you smirked, drawing the small curtain closed before peaking around the edge to meet his eyes.

He laughed at your playfulness as he settled into his own bunk. “What are you reading over there?”

You reopened the curtain holding up the book for him to read: Sharp Objects.

“It’s just this dark thriller type book, it’s pretty good so far.”

“Hm, that’s surprising. I thought you’d be reading. Virginia Woolf or George Orwell or something” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, “I read enough serious literature in college to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. It’s smut and thrillers for me from now on” you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows and drawing another laugh from his lips.

“Fair enough” he smiled, showing you his own book about New Age religion. You two discussed it briefly before settling into a comfortable silence as you read beside each other. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at you occasionally. Each time, your brows were furrowed as you focused entirely on the book before you. You’d tied your hair up and it was the first time he’d seen you bare-faced—your beauty made his heart ache.

Jake wasn’t sure what woke him up several hours later, just as he hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep to begin with. He surveyed his surroundings, lips quirking up when he saw what had dragged him out of his deep sleep—two light green eyes met his own as Reginald settled into his side. Jake lightly pet between his ears before glancing across the way towards you.

Your book was resting on your chest, your mouth open as you slumbered—looks like he wasn’t the only one to doze off while reading. He took a moment to admire your features and how peaceful they looked while you slept. Moving carefully, so as not to disturb Reginald, he reached his hand across the space between you and grabbed your book. He found a spare book mark, marking the page for you before placing it back in your bunk, drawing your curtain closed to give you some privacy. As he settled back into his pillow, Reginald’s purring sent him quickly off to sleep again.

***

From your spot backstage a few weeks later, you could tell something was wrong. Jake didn’t seem like his normal self and Josh kept shooting nervous glances his way. As their set wrapped, Jake set his guitar down and walked offstage, storming by as if you weren’t even there.

“What was that about?” you asked Josh, who looked concerned as he watched his twin slam a dressing room door shut.

“He messed up some notes early in the set and got mad at himself, it happens a lot honestly.”

“I didn’t even hear that and I listen to you guys constantly” you pointed out, noticing how Sam and Danny went into their own dressing room rather than the spare one Jake had just entered.

“Besides us onstage, I’m sure at most a handful of people here noticed it but that doesn’t stop him from beating himself up. I’ll be grabbing my clothes and heading to the hotel, I advise you avoid him until tomorrow morning.”

You contemplated Josh’s words as the other boys quickly filed out behind him once they’d changed into their everyday clothes. You cautiously walked to the room Jake had gone into, knocking quietly.

“Yeah?” he called out, his voice muffled through the thick door.

You peaked your head in to see him lying face down on the couch. You closed the door behind you before sitting on the floor next to him. “Want to talk about it?”

“Don’t know what there is to say, I fucked up the show.”

“Jake, you did no such thing. I appreciate how you want to give your best each night, but you’re still human like the rest of us. Mistakes happen.” 

“So, you did hear me fuck it up?” he asked, finally turning to meet your gaze.

You shook your head, “No, Josh warned me what had happened. I noticed you seemed upset most of the show but I didn’t understand why until afterwards.”

Jake let out a deep breath as he nodded, “People just pay to see us, you know? I feel so shitty when I don’t play my best.”

“I can guarantee you that no one left tonight thinking anything other than what a great show you all put on” you assured him, gently brushing a lock of hair out of his face. His eyes shut at the gesture and his shoulders seemed to relax the slightest bit. You stroked his cheek with your thumb and he nuzzled into your palm. Silence enveloped the room for several moments as you soothed him.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to fall asleep on this old, ratty couch.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now, would we? God knows how many people have raw-dogged it on there.”

Jake shot up at your words and you fell back onto the floor at the horror on his face. “What the fuck Y/N? That’s not funny.”

His response only made you laugh harder as you clutched your aching sides. Jake watched in unamusement before finally gesturing for you to take his outstretched hand.

“Come on, you, let’s head out then” Jake said. You took his hand and wrapped him in a hug once you were steady on your feet.

“You’re amazing at what you do, Jake. Even when you feel like you may not be.”  He returned the embrace, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “Come on stinky, let’s go.”

***

Since tour began a couple months ago, you had all settled into an easy routine together. As the bus rumbled along the roadway, you were curled up on the couch with your legs tossed over Josh’s lap.

“No, Y/N, we are not watching that” he argued, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Joshua, we have watched every single Stanley Kubrick film there is, a couple twice now. I promise, The Haunting of Hill House is more than just a ghost show, I really think you’d like it.”

You’d been discussing the matter for a while now, Josh being characteristically stubborn about what you’d be watching together that afternoon. Normally, you let him pick but you felt you’d been generous enough with how much of your viewing together you’d allowed him to choose since tour started.

“And all I’m saying is, if the show is on Netflix there is absolutely no way it’s a worthwhile endeavor.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” you sat up abruptly, causing his eyes to widen. “Are you saying I have shitty taste when you haven’t even watched a single one of my suggestions?”

“I mean, you do read a lot of thrillers…”

Annoyance shifted into anger in your chest but Jake emerged from the back of the bus before you could snap back. “What are you two going on about? I can’t focus on my book back there.”

“Your brother is being a judgmental asshole is what’s going on” you muttered.

“How dare you!” he retorted turning to glare your way but Jake waved his hand between you two, forcing you both to focus on him.

“Is this because you’ve chosen every single movie you’ve watched together and now Y/N wants a chance?” Jake questioned.

“She can still pick, just something else” Josh sighed dramatically.

“I’m just trying to get him to watch one fucking episode than he can veto it if he hates it” you sighed back, earning another glare.

“Josh, you’ve enjoyed having Y/N join you for movies, right? And the discussions you’ve had about them afterwards?”

“Well, yeah…” Josh trailed off, knowing where his twin was going with this.

“Then why don’t you think she’d know you well enough to pick something out that you may like, hmm? I’ll even sit down and watch an episode.”

You paused, watching Josh weigh his twin’s words—he knew he had lost this particular argument. “Fine, load it up. And, Y/N, I’m sorry for implying you had poor taste. You’re the only one besides me on this godforsaken bus that thinks seriously about cinema.”

“Apology accepted” you grinned, stretching your legs back out to settle in for the show.

Within 10 minutes, Josh was hooked, like you knew he’d be, and Jake seemed to be enjoying himself too. You’d seen this show countless times so you shot Jake a text:

thanks for stepping in back there, you probably saved your brother’s life

You watched Jake’s phone light up across the way and saw his face break into a smile when he read your text.

always happy to take your side in any future fights you two may get into

what if I argue that Taylor Swift is a better lyricist than Joni Mitchell?

you wouldn’t dare

***

Jake sat in his hotel room a few weeks later, looking forward to the final show of the American leg of the tour. Sound check was still a few hours off and he lazily strummed his guitar, staring out at the view. A knock sounded from behind him and he opened his door to see your panicked face.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Jake said, guiding you into his room with a gentle hand on your back.

“I’m fine! Just trying to wrap up a few things before we head to South America in a couple of days. How many checked bags do you have again?” you asked, foot rapidly tapping on the floor.

“…2 but I don’t believe you. You look totally freaked out, Y/N” he replied, hands gently rubbing your shoulders.

“Great, thanks! That was all—.” Your phone ringing cut you off and you sighed before answering, stepping into his bathroom so you could close the door for some privacy. Jake tried his best not to eavesdrop but your raised voice was hard to ignore, even through the door.

Several moments later, silence filled his hotel room and he assumed you’d hung up the phone. He pressed his ear to the door and could have sworn he heard you sniffling behind it.

“Y/N? Can I come in, please?” Only more muffled crying answered him. “Please, I’m worried, can you unlock the door?”

A moment later he heard the lock click and he cautiously opened the door. His heart dropped when he saw you sitting on the tile, arms wrapped around your legs as tears streamed down your face.

“I’m sorry, this is so unprofessional of me, I’ll leave in a minute.”

“Y/N, stop it, fuck professionalism, you’re my friend. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Your sobs continued in earnest at his words and he sat down, wrapping an arm around you. You rested your head on his shoulder and he rubbed your arm lightly, trying to offer what comfort he could.

“I’m sorry, this trip to South America just got totally fucked up this morning. My one co-worker did the booking all wrong so I’ve been trying to fix it for hours now.”

“Shit, that sounds stressful. How can I help?”

“The funny thing is, everything’s settled now. I just submitted all of our information to the airline so we’re set.”

“Why are you still so upset then?” he asked, confused.

“Well, the thing about me is I’m great at handling things when shit hits the fan but the second it’s done? All the adrenaline just rushes through me and then this happens” you chuckled quietly, wiping the tears off your face. “Super helpful, right?”

“No one’s perfect” he assured you and you pushed him away lightly before meeting his gaze. “If everything’s resolved, who was on the phone?”

“My mother. She tried facetiming me so I could see Reggie before we left the country and I lost my shit on her because I’d already told her I couldn’t talk today given everything.”

“Poor Mama Y/L/N” Jake teased and you laughed.

“I know, I owe her an apology call in a little bit” you reached over to squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Jakey.”

“Nothing to thank me for, I’m always here if you need me. Help me figure out this melody I’ve been working on?”

You nodded eagerly as Jake helped you up, handing you his spare guitar. You settled opposite him on the bed and he started running through some of the ideas he’d had.

He smiled faintly as he watched you roughly strum the guitar strings; you were by no means an expert but, for some reason, he could understand what you were getting at whenever you sat down with him to work through his melodies.  As you went back and forth, a song slowly revealed itself to Jake.  

“What’s going on in here?” Sammy’s voice called from behind Jake, causing you both to jump.

“I know we have each other’s spare room keys but maybe knock next time? You scared the shit out of me” Jake replied, glaring at the rest of the band who appeared behind his youngest brother.

“We tried calling you both like a million times with no answer. Sound check starts in five minutes” Danny explained. Jake felt his shoulder tense as he noted the curious expressions on Sam and Danny’s faces.

“Shit, sorry we lost track of time” you muttered, quickly shooing the guys out the door and down to the waiting car.

***

Later that night, the five of you were celebrating in Josh’s room after the show. Alcohol was flowing freely and everyone was a little unsteady on their feet. You sat on the floor beside Danny, the others strewn about the other chairs and the couch. Everyone was chatting but you were you just soaking up the positive energy and excitement in the room—a welcome reprieve after the crazy day you’d had.

“You know what’s awesome?” Josh asked and your focus shifted to him when you realized he was looking right at you.

“What?” you asked, sure he was about to say something ridiculous. You half debated getting your phone out to film it but resisted the urge.

“How well you’ve fit in with us, it’s like you’ve been here all along.” You felt your heart warm at his words but it quickly sank as he continued, “Especially considering your history with Jake.”

A/N: One more part left, y'all! Thanks for the support and let me know if you have any feedback :)

(also I would fight them to the death that ms. swift is a better lyricist, just felt that needed to be said)

taglist: taglist: @sunshineonkennasshoulders @littlehorrorlover @gretavansteph @peacefulfuckinarmy @greta-van-chaos

[argylesweedstash]

did you just call me baby

(ao3 link)

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. At least, Dean’s banking on Castiel thinking it’s an accident. And it is, really. Dean fell onto the war room floor covered in black goo with his arms around Cas. Sam and Jack leapt up from the table, moving away from the intricate spellwork that no longer needed their attention.

Cas stirred a little. He’d been out of it when Dean had found him - half-lucid and mostly disbelieving. He’d let Dean pull him up and sling his arm around his shoulders, but hadn’t said much. Only mumbled apologies and words that sounded a lot like, “I hope this is real.”

Jack was first on the floor next to them. “Cas?” he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips. Cas nodded and within seconds, his arms were full of his son.

Dean watched them, a smile playing on his lips. When they broke apart, Sam offered Castiel his arm. Cas had looked at it before taking it and being pulled into a hug by the taller man.

Dean removed himself from the floor and helped Jack up. When Sam released Cas, Dean stepped in front of him.

“It’s real,” Dean said, looking into Cas’s eyes.

Cas nodded. “Thank you for saving me, Dean.”

Dean finally closed the distance between them and pulled Cas into a bone crushing hug.

“I missed you, baby,” Dean muttered against Cas. When he realized that he’d said baby instead of buddy, he could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He removed himself from Cas and grinned sheepishly at the floor. There was a weird fluttering feeling in his chest. He wrote it off as the adrenaline that was still pumping through his veins.

Cas, for what it was worth, didn’t seem to notice the word. “I missed you, too, Dean.”

-

That was two weeks ago. Since then, Dean has been avoiding talking about it. Not just his slip, though, the things Cas had said to him before The Empty came and took him. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t feel the same way - he just didn’t know if he did or not. He likes Cas and he’s his best friend. He knows he likes spending time with him. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by how fond of his friend he is, but he doesn’t read too far into that.

Plus, things hadn’t changed between them. They still watched movies together in the Dean Cave a couple nights a week. Castiel would always come and join Dean in the garage when he was working on any of the cars they kept. Dean would greet him with a, “Good morning, Sunshine,” every morning from his place at the table. The only thing that had changed was that they didn’t have the end of the world looming over their heads. Honestly, this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. Getting Cas back meant that they’d tied up their loose ends and now they could relax. Of course Dean had never felt this happy, they’d never so resolutely saved the world like they did this time around.

Dean is sitting at the table, now, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. There were still monsters, there might still be a case somewhere. In the back of his head Dean knows he doesn’t really want to find a case. He’s been enjoying his time with Cas and Sam. He likes that the most pressing thing he has to worry about is whether or not the fridge is stocked. He knows Sam has been getting stir crazy, though. Maybe he’ll find a case and send Sam off, encourage him to get Eileen in on it.

The sound of footsteps draws Dean’s attention away from the laptop. Castiel pads into the room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s hand-me-down shirts, even though he hasvclothing of his own. Part of pulling Cas out of The Empty meant leaving his grace behind. Jack had been pretty clear - Cas’s grace was the reason Jack was unable to just pull him out. So, here Cas is, as human as Dean, wearing Dean’s shirt. A smile threatens to break on Dean’s face.

“What’re you up to?” Dean asks.

Cas turns to face him. Dean notices toothpaste stuck to the corner of Cas’s mouth, he must have just finished brushing his teeth.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Cas says. “I was going to make myself something. Are you hungry? I can make enough for two.”

Dean shakes his head. “Just ate,” he says. “You, uh -” He gestures vaguely at Cas’s mouth.

“I what?” Cas asks, tilting his head a little.

“Baby,” Dean starts as he gets up from his chair to walk over to Castiel. “You have some toothpaste. Right there.”

Cas stares at Dean, wide eyed. Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes and grabs a napkin from the table. He wipes at Castiel’s mouth before he crumples the napkin and walks it over to the trash. Cas watches his movements.

“What?” Dean asks when he notices Cas staring at him. It’s not that he minds, Cas just looks a little lost.

Cas just shakes his head and puts a smile on his face. “Nothing. Thank you, Dean. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s part of being human, man. No worries,” Dean says, depositing himself back in his chair. “You gonna eat in here?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says, finally moving from where he was stopped.

Dean nods in his direction before he pats the chair next to him, smiling up at his friend. He returns to his research as Cas busies himself in the kitchen.

-

Two days later, Sam is gone to go after a nest of vamps and Eileen’s place just happens to be on the way there. Dean isn’t quite sure why Sam hasn’t just asked her to move in. He’s pretty sure Sam had refrained before because Dean had been a wreck with Cas gone. It was probably better for Dean and Eileen’s relationship that she hadn’t seen him like that. But now, there was no reason for her not to be here. She was family, after all.

Dean knocks on Cas’s door, ending his stream of thoughts. Dean was kind of bored and he hadn’t taken Cas anywhere but the supermarket since they’d brought him back. And, come to think of it, Dean couldn’t remember the last time just he and Cas had gone out for drinks.

Cas answers the door already dressed. “Dean. I was actually coming to look for you.”

“Well, I found ya first,” Dean says, putting an easy smile on his face. “Was gonna see if you wanted to come grab a drink with me. Looks like you’re going somewhere, though.” He didn’t want to press, but where on earth could Cas be going? It wasn’t like he really knew anyone around here outside of Sam and Dean. And if someone they knew was in town, why hadn’t Dean heard of it?

The ends of Cas’s lips turn up slightly. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and beams at Castiel. “It’s a date, then. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at Baby.”

Cas nods at Dean’s retreating figure and mumbles, “It’s a date,” before shutting his door to walk to the car.

Dean meets him there a few minutes later. “Had to grab my keys,” he says, holding them up for Cas to see.

The drive to the bar passes in comfortable silence, Cas staring out the window at the passing buildings. Dean drums his fingers on his steering wheel. He glances to Cas a few times; he almost can’t believe Cas is really back. He’d been gone for two months. Dean had spent most of that time frantically reading through every lore book and the rest drinking until he couldn’t remember the pain. It had been Jack that finally suggested opening the rift and leaving Cas’s grace behind. Dean had been ready to go almost immediately.

Now that Castiel was back, Dean felt better than he had in years. A warm feeling had settled over him after they fell through the rift and it stayed around. Whenever he was with Cas he could only describe the we he felt as “content.” Like now, for example, he could drive all night like this and be pleased with the way he spent his evening.

They pull in and Dean holds the door to the bar open so Cas can walk through. “Grab us a table and I’ll get drinks,” he says, clapping his hand over his shoulder and walking past him to the bar.

He gets the bartender’s attention pretty quickly. “Hey, Lynn. Slow night?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes at him and pushes a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. “It’s a Wednesday, what do you expect?” She gives a little chuckle and leans against the bar. “Where’s your brother?”

“Sammy’s with his girlfriend. Won’t be back for a few days,” Dean says easily. “Left me alone with Cas over there.”

Lynn looks past him at Castiel, who is seated at a booth in the corner. He’s looking around the mostly empty bar, seemingly taking in the neon signs advertising different kinds of alcohol. He’s wearing one of Dean’s flannels, Dean realizes belatedly.

“He’s cute,” Lynn says. She turns her attention back to the man in front of her. “What can I get for you two?”

“Two beers,” he says. And then, as an afterthought, “And two shots of your top shelf whiskey.”

She grins. “Celebrating something?”

“Come to think of it, yeah,” Dean says. “He, uh.” He looks for the words. “Just got back from a work trip. Gone for a couple of months.” That sounds like a good cover.

“I bet he’s happy to be home,” Lynn says, setting the beers in front of Dean before turning to grab a bottle from the shelf behind her. “You seem happy that he’s back.”

It’s Dean’s turn to grin. “I’m freaking thrilled. Dude’s my best friend.”

Lynn slides the now filled shot glasses toward Dean. “Want a tray to carry all that?”

Dean doesn’t get to answer before she’s sliding a tray toward him. “You need a tray,” she says, putting the drinks onto it. “I know you were going to try to carry all this over there without one.”

Dean thanks her and slides the tray onto his left arm, steadying it with his right hand. He turns toward the booth Cas is in and flashes him a smile while he lifts the tray slightly, indicating the beverages.

“That my shirt?” he says when he gets to the table. He sets a beer and a shot down in front of Cas.

Cas looks down at the flannel and then back at Dean in a way Dean can only describe as bashful. “Yes. It must have gotten mixed in with my laundry. I can return it, if you want.”

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.” Dean picks his shot up and motions for Cas to do the same. “We’re celebrating, Cas.”

Cas picks up his shot and looks at Dean curiously. “What are we celebrating?”

“You’re back!”

Cas smiles warmly. “I am,” he nods. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, Sam and Jack helped,” Dean says, grinning.

“To humanity,” Cas says, raising the shot.

“To humanity,” Dean echos before taking the shot.

Cas makes a face after he downs his and raises his beer to his lips to chase the taste away.

“You’ve not had a drink since you got back,” Dean remarks, watching Cas take a few long drinks from the bottle.

“You haven’t either,” he replies.

Dean contemplates the statement. “Really?” He takes a sip of his beer. “I guess I’ve just been busy.”

They both know that isn’t really true. Dean’s only been engaging in leisurely activities, he’s just not been drinking during them. He wonders for a moment why that might be. It’s probably because he doesn’t have any pain he needs to ignore, he thinks.

“Your tolerance is going to be shit.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m a cheap date.”

Dean looks at him for a moment before laughing. Cas gives him a genuine smile before returning to his beer.

Several beers later, Dean cuts himself off. Someone has to drive home and Cas is more than a little giggly on the bench across from him. He takes a sip of his third beer and gives Dean a measured look.

“What?” Dean asks, putting a soft smile on his face. “See something you like?”

“Yes,” Cas says.

Dean grins back at him. There’s a tug somewhere in his chest, but he ignores it. “Anything on your mind?”

Cas just looks at Dean, clearly deep in thought. “Not really, no.”

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “Want another?”

Cas’s beer is still half full. “Another what?”

“Another drink. Or another shot.”

“Another shot might be nice, actually.”

Dean smiles at him. “That’s my boy. I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the bar and waits for Lynn to walk over to him.

“Two more?” she asks.

“Just another shot,” Dean says. “I’m driving but huggy bear over there can have whatever he wants.”

Lynn shakes her head and pours another. “You two been together long? I haven’t seen him in here.”

Dean blinks back at her and then looks down at the shot. “Actually we, uh, we haven’t talked about… that. Being together.”

She frowns at Dean and he takes a breath. He hadn’t been avoiding it, really. He and Cas had just fallen back into their comfortable rhythm.

“He doesn’t know how you feel, does he?” Lynn asks. She looks a little sad now.

“I guess he doesn’t,” Dean says thoughtfully.

“You should tell him.”

Dean looks up at her.

“Not tonight, though. He should probably be sober.”

Dean nods and grabs the shot. “Thanks, Lynn.”

He sets the shot down across from Cas when he gets back to the table. “For you.”

Cas downs the shot as Dean settles back down across from him. “What were you two talking about?”

Dean stares at Cas. He knows he shouldn’t lie but if he says anything Cas may actually want to talk about his feelings and Dean isn’t ready for that. He doesn’t really have words and he’s not even sure he’s fully processed Cas’s confession yet. And, Lynn was probably right. Cas should be sober for that particular conversation.

“Sam,” Dean lies easily. “This is where we come for drinks. Neither of us have been by in a while.”

Cas accepts the lie and sips from his beer before starting a conversation about Jack and the prospect of weekly family dinners.

By the time Cas had finished his beer the shot he’d taken seems to hit him. “Dean.”

“Cas.”

“I’d like another shot.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You can get it.”

Cas frowns at Dean before swinging his legs to the end of the booth to pull himself out. He pushes himself up on the table and wobbles a little before Dean is up and at his side, steadying him.

“When you don’t stand it hits you all at once,” Dean explains. He’s gripping Cas’s bicep and shoulder.

“I know how drinking works, Dean. I spend all my time with you.”

Dean chuckled low in his throat. “How about we get you home?”

“Can I drink there?”

Dean turns Cas to face him fully. “Hell yeah, you can.”

“You’ll be drinking, too?”

“Well, yeah. I won’t have to drive us anywhere. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Dean walks Cas to the Impala and deposits him in the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be right back, baby. I have to pay the tab.”

Cas stares at Dean for a moment before opening and promptly closing his mouth.

“I’ll leave the door open in case you hurl. And I’ll get a bag from Lynn.”

Dean returns to see Cas has closed the door and is currently slumped against it, sleeping. He rolls his eyes and drives him home, careful to avoid the bumps on the road. When they get home, he shakes Cas awake.

“‘Morning, Sunshine.”

“It’s not morning, Dean,” Cas replies groggily.

“Nope,” Dean says, leaning over to pull Cas out of the car. “Let’s get you to your room.”

They make their way through the bunker slowly. Dean sits Cas down and gets him out of his shoes and, after a brief moment of hesitation, his jeans. Once he’s gotten Cas under the blankets, he gets a glass of water from the kitchen and a few tylenol from the bottle he has stashed in his room.

“Alright,” he says, setting everything down on Cas’s night stand. “Take the tylenol when you wake up. You’re probably going to be hungover. And drink some water, okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” says the Cas sized lump under the covers.

“Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I’m right down the hall.”

Dean turns to leave but Cas makes a noise. Dean turns back around.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight, Dean. I had fun.”

Dean smiles. “I had fun, too. Get some sleep, baby.”

He flicks out Cas’s lights and reminds himself to stop calling Cas buddy. The dude loves him and Dean’s probably making it hurt or something. Plus, he’d accidentally called him baby when he’d first gotten back from The Empty. Dean’s probably sending him mixed signals. He shuts the door behind him and walks to his room; he knows he should probably figure out what to say to Cas. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that meant poking at that warm, fluttery feeling that seemed to be permanently in his chest.

-

Sam returns from the hunt a week later. He assures Dean it was an easy hunt and that he and Eileen hadn’t needed any help. He also admits to spending a few days with Eileen after they’d taken out the nest.

“How is she, anyway?” Dean asks, handing a beer to Sam and setting one on the end table next to Cas. They’d been watching old western’s in the Dean Cave when Sam got home. Cas had wanted to spend the day watching movies and Dean had agreed on the condition that he got to pick the movie.

“She’s good. She misses you two,” Sam answers.

“Tell her to get her ass out here,” Dean says. “She’s family at this point, man. She should be here, anyway. It would make hunts easier.”

Sam shook his head, smiling. “That’s the first hunt I’ve been on since we beat Chuck. You still haven’t been out.”

“Hey, I’m keeping Cas company. He’s still newly human,” Dean argues.

“You could go hunt if you want, Dean. I’m capable of taking care of myself. I don’t mind,” Cas says from the couch. Dean looks over at him and shakes his head.

“Nah, you’ve been back less than a month. We gotta make sure you have your sea legs before I go anywhere, baby.”

The words left his mouth effortlessly. Sam and Cas just stared at him for a second before Sam coughed.

“It’s great seeing you guys but I’m going to go shower and pass out for a few hours,” he says before making a quick exit toward his room.

“Fine, Sammy. We didn’t want to hang out with you, anyway,” Dean shoots back before collapsing onto his side of the couch.

He hits play on the movie and settles in. He has his own bottle of beer pressed to his lips when Cas speaks.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” he replies, lowering the bottle from his lips.

Cas is quiet for a moment. “Why do you keep calling me ‘baby’?” he asks carefully.

Dean stares back at him. “I only called you that once,” he says, on guard now. Had it slipped out again? He didn’t think it had but now he’s not so confident. He sets his beer bottle down.

“No, you’ve done it five times.” So, it had slipped out again. More than once. “You did just now before Sam left.”

Dean is silent, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t even realized it had come out. “I’m sorry,” he finally decides, lowering his gaze from Cas’s stare for a brief moment.

“I don’t mind it,” Cas says quietly. He’s looking somewhere to the left of Dean, his eyes occasionally flickering to Dean’s face. “I thought you were doing it on purpose, is all.”

Dean can’t seem to form a fully coherent thought. He knows he needs to say something - mention Cas’s confession, maybe. But he doesn’t have the words for that yet. Instead he says, “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want you to do it on purpose,” Cas says, looking down. Dean can see the beginnings of pink on the top of his ears. He’s overwhelmed with an ache somewhere in his chest.

Dean doesn’t know why, but he slides in close to Cas. He reaches his hand out and lifts his chin so their eyes meet. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, softly. The fluttering in his chest is more insistent now.

He hears Cas’s breath hitch. Cas closes and opens his eyes before saying. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Dean says, his hand still resting on Cas’s chin.

“Will you kiss me?”

Before Dean registers what he’s doing, he nods and ducks his head in. The kiss is chaste and quick but Cas leans in and responds gently. When they break, there’s a soft smile on Cas’s face.

“Cas,” Dean says, moving his hand to Cas’s cheek. “I, uh. I need to talk to you about. About what you said. Before you… Ya know.”

“When I told you I loved you?” Cas supplies, his eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah,” Dean says, chuckling lightly. “I. I think I do, too. I just haven’t -”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean. You know that.”

Dean brings his mouth gently back to Cas’s and kisses him again. This time just a little longer, his other hand finding Cas’s waist.

“It was just so easy when you got back,” Dean says when he pulls away. He tries to find any string of words that expresses how he feels. “I didn’t think I needed to say anything but…”

Cas stares at Dean, encouraging him to keep going. Dean can feel his face heating up.

“Lynn asked how long we’d been together,” he says, lamely. “The bartender,” he adds.

“I didn’t get to meet her but I remember her name.”

Dean smiles at him and takes a breath before speaking. “And I told her we hadn’t talked about it. And she looked really sad. I realized I do need to say something.”

They’re silent for a moment and then Dean says. “Holy shit. That was a date.”

Cas looks confused. “You told me it was a date.”

“I did?”

“Yes. When I said yes to going with you, you said ‘it’s a date.’” Cas says.

Dean shakes his head. “It’s… It’s an expression, Cas,” he says. Then, “But, uh, that was a date. I think.”

“Dean. Did you want it to be a date?” Cas asks. His voice is lined with both patience and amusement.

Dean pauses for a minute before saying, “Yeah. That was our first date.” He leans in and presses another kiss to Cas’s mouth.

Cas kisses back and then pulls away a little. “Would you like to go on a second date?”

Dean makes a show of thinking. He hums lightly.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. I do,” he places a kiss on the side of Cas’s mouth before he drops his hand. “I, uh, I don’t really know what to say but… You can have me, if you want. You’re just going to have to work with me. I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cas says.

Dean places a kiss on Cas’s cheek before he turns back to the TV and starts the movie. Cas reaches across to grab his hand, intertwining their fingers in the space between them.

“Hey, baby?”

Cas’s head pops up in response to the pet name, there’s a faint smile on his lips. “Yes, Dean?”

“I love you.”

Cas beams at him before replying, “I love you, too.”

Dean turns his head back toward the TV but spends a better part of the rest of the movie sneaking glances at Cas. He indulges the warm feeling in his chest, even if he doesn’t quite have the words for everything yet.

[onlyonekenobi]

Sam riffled the cards thoughtlessly between his fingers.

Well, not thoughtlessly. Anxiously. With lots of thoughts, just no direction.

He tried to focus now on the worn, soft edges of cardstock playing against his fingertips.

Something old, he mused.

One deep breath, in and out, was the goal. All those years of meditation practice couldn’t be for nothing, right?

In, he thought, letting the cards flit together; then out, bridging them back into a pile. In and out, over and over, letting the cards teach him to breathe.

I’m getting married today, he thought into them. What say you to that? Where does a person even begin to focus their energy on a day like today? What do you try to remember most from the best day of your life? On a day you never thought you’d get?

You’re spiraling, he cut himself off.

In. Out.

Pull a card.

Sam snorted audibly as he flipped it over to reveal- of course- The Lovers.

“Yeah,” he laughed lightly. “Thanks for that, very astute.” Giving the deck another quick shuffle, he asked aloud, “Anything else?”

Another flip- this deck had never been one to pull punches, but it was also always equally ready to tell you when good things were coming and you should just calm the hell down about it already. So really, he should have guessed this one. “Wheel of Fortune,” he smiled under his breath.

A card for destiny. For new chapters. For luck.

Tears started to well hot in his eyes, and he shut them tight until he was sure it was over. “Yeah,” he whispered again. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Clearing his throat, Sam worked the cards back into a neat pile and grabbed for their little cardboard box where it sat perched on the table. As he pulled the lid off from where it was cupped snug around the bottom, a little piece of paper- ripped from the guest notebook, it looked like- fluttered to the ground.

Picking it up, he smiled again; he’d know that writing anywhere. It walked the wildly fine line between elegant, adorable, and downright chaotic, just like her.

Sam, he read in Eileen’s looping scrawl,

I had a feeling you might be shuffling through these this morning :) So, if you’re reading this, I was right! And if you’re not, I guess I’ll just burn this note later to hide the evidence of my shame.

I can’t wait to see you (well, I can see you right now, you’re brushing your teeth, but you know what I mean. I can’t wait to see you Out There.). I don’t want to spoil my vows, but I couldn’t wait to tell you how much I love you. Wait- there, I also told you just now. Remember?

He did.

You’re my best friend, Sam. You’re my family. You are smart, and kind, and brave, and thoughtful, and beautiful. You give so much of yourself to the world, and it owes you its very best back. There are no words for how lucky I feel that I get to try and help give that to you. I would give you the sun, if I could. (Maybe I’ll work on a spell for that- something to keep you impressed for our anniversary.)

Every day of my life is a second chance. The fact that I get to spend them with you… it’s beyond believing.

You are the most incredible person I have ever known, and it will be my honor to tell you that every day from now on.

Now finish brushing your hair and get out there. I’ll be waiting.

See you real soon ♡  I love you.

Eileen

-

Sam traced his thumb over the little drawing of a heart, no longer fighting it as the tears spilled over. How anyone could ever have gotten so lucky, he would never understand.

Because no matter what else had happened in his life, Sam had a future to go live. He had a wife to go marry. And for all she’d just written about him, she was the coolest, toughest, sweetest person to ever walk the earth- he was sure of it, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Finding her- being loved by her- was more than a miracle.

Eileen’s words had driven the scramble of anxiety completely from Sam’s brain, but his body still took another deep breath out of habit.

He squared his shoulders. Wiped his eyes.

“Hey, Dean?” he called into the next room.

“Yeah?” came an answering voice.

“I’m ready to go here, man.” A wave of excitement rolled through Sam’s shoulders.

“All right!” Dean beamed, his head popping in from the other side of the door. “I’ll tell ‘em to cue up the music.” His posture changed minutely before he added, “You…. I’m real proud of you, Sammy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam smirked. They’d already had this moment last night, and there would surely be another later today. “Thanks, Dean.” For more than just the comment. For so much. “Now go and get my wedding started. I have a kickass wife to marry.”

Laughter echoed as Dean left the room, and Sam felt suddenly dizzy with excitement.

Destiny, he thought again.

He’d been “destined” for a lot of things, he knew, and Eileen held more gravity than any of them.

Destiny.

Yeah. She was waiting for him.

[theoreticslut]

5, 4, 3, 2, 1 // s.r.

spencer reid x reader

requested: for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s bday writing challenge!!

word count: 1.2k

warnings: anxiety, anxiety/panic attack, vague mentions of abuse to children (I needed a case & I couldn’t remember any specific ones from the show I’m sorry!)

A/N: ahhh hi! I know this isn’t what I normally write, but I’ve been debating whether or not I wanted to write for more fandoms since I first started this blog and I’m finally giving it a try!! Hopefully this doesn’t completely flop but we’ll see. Don’t worry; Harry Potter will still be the focus of my fics, but every now and then I’d like to try and do something for a different fandom.

Taglist: I’m just going to tag my general taglist, hoping some of you will like it and will reblog it. If criminal minds isn’t your thing, no worries, just ignore this!! Actually if you do see this, please head over and fill out my new taglist form! I’m trying to reorganize it and make sure I’ve got active people on it. Thanks!

@loveboyhalo @anxiousblanketqueen @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @perfectlysane24 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @softlyqoos @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @isthereanymorejello @karushinekomiya @p0gue420 @hogwartslut @sebby-staan @darthwheezely @slytherin-7 @callmelilone @teenagesublimefan @hufflrpuffforfred @hopefullhearts @fredshmeasley @youralternantpersonality @stoopidwithtwohoes @sightiff @captaincactusjuice @concepcion @hufflepuffflowers @impulse-anchor @loverslane99 @fleurho @eternallyvenus @lemongrasshoney @watermelonsugar2810 @hpotterwhore @harrypotterwifey @onyourgoddamnleft @littlemisswitt @princessofmice @harleigh110 @accioalix @teenwolfbitches2 @sammy-the-gay 

You try your best not to clench your jaw as you know it’ll only make your mouth sore, but you can’t help it as everything starts to become too much. The ringing of the phones. The chatter of officers that seem to only increase in volume. The clacking of keyboard keys. The worried sobs of a missing kid’s parents.

This case is stressful, and terrifying, and you can’t help but let it get to you even though you’re normally good at separating your emotions from cases. These little kids, both boys and girls ages 6-9, had been coming up missing, and then shortly after coming up dead with bruises all over their bodies.

Currently, there’s a young boy, only about eight years old, missing and the team is trying to save him by locating the unsub - the task that you and Spencer were tasked with as you two worked the best at narrowing down patterns and predicting where a person might be hiding.

You couldn’t focus though. You try, but your mind is too preoccupied with the thought that this could be your little girl at home, the one you were left to raise after her parents - your best friends - died in a car crash just a few years ago.

She was six and so adventurous. You loved how excited and curious she was about the world, but because of your line of work and what you see on a daily basis, you constantly worry that her curiosity will get her in trouble someday. This case was only furthering your worries. Your girl could be the one you’re trying to locate, and that terrifies you.

“Y/n? How are you coming along?” You hear spencer ask, drawing your focus back to the present, mostly.

“Yeah, thinking. Close.” You mumble out, trying to work on your part of the task.

Without even realizing it, though, you’ve slipped back into a mindset of worry. All the noise only seems to intensify as you start feeling like you can’t breath and the room gets smaller.

You can feel your hands start shaking and your leg start bouncing but you can’t seem to stop it no matter how deep of a breath you attempt to take.

“I think I’ve got it. The unsub’s been between these two regions, right Y/n? Y/n?”

Tears spring to your eyes and you quickly shut your eyes, pulling your shaky hands to your ears to try to quiet the noise.

It’s all far too much.

“Hey, y/n. Look at me. Watch me, please.” Spencer commands, kneeling in front of you, making sure you have eye contact with him.

You feel yourself starting to hyperventilate, and your just begging for this to be over. You don’t like this feeling. You’ve never liked this feeling. You don’t want to feel this any longer.

“Just listen to me, yeah? Follow my lead, okay. Breathe in.”

You try to breath in but it doesn’t get far as the air seems to get caught in your throat.

Spencer carefully grabs one of your hands and rubs soothing circles over the back of it.

“Breathe out. Again, breathe in.”

You try to take another breath but it still seems too hard.

“What are five things you can see right now?”

“Y-you.” You stutter out, still feeling like there’s a weight on your chest which makes it hard to breath.

“There’s one. What else?”

“A-a pen. The w-whiteboard.”

“You’re doing good, we need two more things. What else can you see right now.”

“Files, a-and a c-offee cup.”

He smiles reassuringly, still rubbing at your hand as he mimics the deep breathing he wants you to do.

“Alright. Now four things you can hear. What are they?”

“The phones, C-clacking k-eyboards, A-a clock, A-and birds...outside.” You manage to get out, feeling your chest begin to lighten just a bit.

Spencer nods, a smile still on his face as he tells you to tell him three things you can feel.

As your breathing starts to level out, you feel yourself shaking less and less.

“Doing good, y/n. Now two things you can smell are?”

“Coffee a-and your cologne”

He smiles, heart warming at the mention of his cologne. He knows there’s probably nothing romantic about it, he probably just put a lot on this morning, but the fact you can smell it and know it’s him is endearing to him.

To the side his phone starts ringing. He quickly answers it, although he never stops rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“Yeah, hotch?”

“Yeah-huh. I’ve got it down to one area, we’re trying to get it more specific. Yes, sir. As soon as we’ve got it. Yes, we know. We’re on it, hotch.”

You watch as he hangs up, tossing the small device onto the table as he turns his full attention back to you.

“W-what did hotch say?” You ask a bit shakily, still shook up from your breakdown.

“Had more information for the profile. Do you get panic attacks often?”

“Sometimes. H-haven’t had one in awhile though.” You admit.

“What triggered it?”

“The case. I-Lyla could be the one we’re trying to find, Spence. I-I know what the parents are feeling. I can only imagine what it’d be like to...you know,” you sigh.

Watching him nod, you frown, chewing on your bottom lip as all the possibilities run rampant in your mind.

“I’m sure, y/n. But we’re not. Lyla’s safe and will be waiting for your call as soon as you get on the jet.” Spencer reassures, squeezing your hand lightly.

“It’s okay to be worried. Just think, though, you’re not the one going through it all right now. Those parents out there are. It’s up to us to find their kid, just like we would do if it were yours. Right?”

“Right. I’m sorry, Spence. I’m focused now, I promise.”

“Don’t apologize. Panic is a natural reaction to a fearful situation. You couldn’t control it, few can unless they have practice with it. Let’s just put our heads together to find this little boy, yeah? The sooner we do, the sooner you can be back with lyla.”

You nod, thanking him as you finally get back to work, looking over the case files of the last few kids to see if there’s any pattern or anything to tell you more about where this unsub may be heading

~.~

You sigh, having just hung up the phone with your girl. She was happy as could be and perfectly safe in her own bed.

“How’s lyla?” Spencer asks, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“Safe, and happy that I’ll be home soon. Thank you, Spence. For earlier.”

“Of course, y/n. What are friends for?”

You chuckle lightly and nod, a soft smile laying on your lips.

“Still. I’ve always had to just ride them out and it’s never been fun. You...you made it a lot easier to handle.”

“You’re welcome.” He mumbles, trying to hide the smile that takes over his face.

You both sit in silence for a few minutes, just happy to be in each other’s presence during the calm.

“Hey Spence? Do you think...would you like to stay the night with lyla and I? You know...in case I have another panic attack?”

He chuckles but nods and sends you a soft smile.

“I think I could do that.”

[undisputed-bucky]

Dean Drabble!

NFSW MINORS DNI

Summary: Dean almost loses you on a mission and lets you know exactly how that makes him feel.

WARNINGS: SMUT SMUT SMUT, oral(m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it my lovelies), GUN KINK(reader has a gun pointed to her head most of this fic) . IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH GUNS OR ANY TYPE OF GUN PLAY DO NOT PROCEED.

Word Count: 1.6k ish

A/N: I have to thank @bucky-daddy for the ideas and inspiration for this! It was supposed to be just a little Drabble but it turned into a full one shot!! Again thank you @bucky-daddy for letting me scream about ideas while I wrote this! I hope you guys like it! I always appreciate likes, re blogs and comments! My requests are open as well!! Send me an ask or message and I’ll be happy to discuss ideas! Also I wrote this on my phone so I can’t add a page break so PLEASE BE AWARE OF THE WARNING I'VE PUT IN THE DESCRIPTION OF THIS PIECE. ILL SAY IT AGAIN⚠️VIOLENT AND EXTREME THEMES ALONG WITH SMUT⚠️

The hunt wasn’t supposed to go wrong. You weren’t supposed to get captured. Almost every part of the plan you and Dean had gone over went wrong. So so wrong. The nest wasn’t supposed to know you were coming for them. You weren’t supposed to leave Dean’s side.

And now because of that you were tied to a chair, with a teenage werewolf desperately trying to finish the knot on your right leg. Shit shit shit, you thought. The last time you had seen Dean he was fighting off one werewolf. As you looked around the room you noticed at least five just in this room. You prayed he was safe. You knew Dean could hold his own but the amount of werewolves that could be here? That sets you on edge.

Just as the thought presents itself in your mind, you hear a crash and multiple gunshots. The werewolves all looked towards the door, the familiar growl of the Winchester brother echoing through the walls. You smirked.

“Come at me motherfuckers!” He yells as he kicks through the door. Dean raises his gun and takes out two within five seconds. You growl as you kick out with your right leg, the knot having never been finished.

“Dean!” You shout as you nod your head towards the wolf that had tied you up. He shoots with extreme precision and the silver bullet meets its target, the werewolves brain.

Dean promptly takes care of the two other werewolves in the room.

You breathe a sigh of relief as you watch Dean pant, his shoulders heaving with every breath. “Man, I really got scared there! Thanks for the help Dean, you’re a great hunter” You say, wiggling against the ropes in the chair. “Why don’t you uhh help me with these ropes, Deano?”

“What did I tell you, Y/N?” You hear Dean growl as he turns around. As you look up into his eyes, the darkness there makes your skin prickle. And not exactly in a bad way.

“You told me not to leave your side, I know Dean but I thought I had it! I didn’t kn-“

“SHUT UP” You're cut off by Dean’s yelling. You suddenly look up to see him storming towards you. His hulking figure soon looms over yours, the rage practically radiating off of him.

“You left my side after I specifically told you not too. You directly disobeyed my orders!” He starts, voice so low it was almost a growl. “You put yourself in Danger!” He yells, his hand raises and he presses the barrel of his gun into your temple. “I ALMOST LOST YOU, Y/N! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

You splutter as you look into his eyes, the emotions there a mystery to you. What wasn't a mystery was the pool of moisture collecting in your panties. You'd always been quite attracted to Dean but this ragey, scary Dean? He made you weak!

Dean's gun drifts down slightly as his expression softens slightly, “What would I do without you, Y/N?” He says, anger still virulent in his eyes.

You decide to come back to that question later, suddenly wanting to press the rage inside him more. You smirk and stick your tongue out, swirling your tongue around the silver barrel. You watch Deans pupils dilate as you draw the barrel into your mouth, sucking gently.

“You think this is a game, Y/N?” Dean growls, his mouth twisting into a sneer. He chuckles, a dark dry sound as his hand moves to his belt buckle. He dexterously undoes the buckle and moves on his jeans. “Guess what? You lost” He suddenly removes the gun from your mouth, placing it back on your temple. “You disobeyed me and for that you’re gonna be punished” He speaks as he pulls his briefs down, revealing his hard cock.

Your mouth falls open, eyes widening as you imagine wrapping your mouth around it. The wet patch in your panties grows as you look at the massive member. You always suspected he was big but this? Unprecedented.

“Brat sees something she likes huh?” He chuckles as he moves closer, his cock right in front of your face. He presses the gun harder against your temple, his other hand slapping his cock against your face. You gasp and he takes the opportunity to thrust roughly into your mouth.

You moan around his impressive length and he groans. “Such a fucking brat, not so mouthy with your trap stuffed full of cock huh?” He growls, his hips pistoning against your lips. You choke and gag as his tip smacks the back of your throat forcefully with each thrust of his hips. You Do your best to breathe through your nose as you take every inch of his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N. Sucking me so good. Knew that mouth was good for something other than being a smart ass” He growls, hips stuttering slightly. Drool and spittle falls down your chin as tears spring to your eyes. Every thrust to your throat had you walls clenching around nothing, cunt desperate for the cock currently in your mouth.

Dean's groans become more desperate and he stops, roughly pulling from your mouth with a wet plop. “No no no. M’saving my cum for your cunt. Wanted this for too long not to fill you” He says.

“Please Dean! Untie me so I can show you how much I’ve wanted it to!” You beg, wiggling against the restraints.

He chuckles as he bends down to untie your leg, smirking. You look back at your hands, expecting him to move to them next. When he doesn’t you look at him, “Dean, m-my hands babe” you say, laughing nervously. He suddenly moves behind you, roughly kicking the Chair out from beneath you. It plants you on the floor with your hands laid out above you. “D-Dean please!”

Dean just laughs as he starts to pull your pants down, groaning appreciatively. Your legs spread for him, exposing your drenched cunt. He raises his gun, dragging the tip of the barrel through your drenched folds. You gasp and arch against the touch. He pulls the gun away and chuckles, slowly lifting it to your mouth in a silent order to suck. You open your mouth to taste your own juices around the gun. You moan at the taste as Dean suddenly presses himself against your entrance.

“What a dirty little whore you are! Just begging to be fucked at gunpoint aren’t you? So wet for me and my gun huh?” He asks, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds as he places the gun back to your temple.

“Yes Sir! Please! Fuck me at gunpoint and take what you want!” You shout, hips bucking to gain more friction. You watch as his lips turn up in a smirk. He uses his other hand to roughly hold your hips down, keeping you still as he slowly sheathes himself inside you.

“Fuck!” You cry out at his length filling you. He’s so huge you can swear you feel him in your belly, stretching you out. Your voice refuses to work when he slowly drags himself out, only to slam back against that spongy spot inside of you.

As his pace increases, he growls out, “Fuck Y/N so tight! Made to take my cock weren’t you?”

“Yes! Oh god yes!” You cry, the coil inside you beginning to wind and wind with every thrust to that spot he found so quickly.

Dean presses the gun into your skin, a bruising pressure as he growls, “Yes what?”

“Yes sir!” You scream, your walls beginning to flutter and squeeze around his cock. “Oh fuck!”

He groans as his pace falters, moving a hand to your clit. He rubs fast, tight circles as he leans down to your ear, “Gonna cum on my cock? Gonna soak me with my gun pointed to your head?” He whispers.

“Yes sir! Please let me cum!” You beg, legs beginning to shake. The coil was ready to burst but you wouldn’t dare cum without his permission.

“Cum! Cum for me like the desperate slut you are” He growls as he cock swells. Your vision goes white as the coil snaps, walls clamping down around Dean. Your mouth falls open in a wordless scream as he finishes, the feeling of his spend bursting against your cervix extending your orgasm farther. Your hips buck and shake as he thrusts out both of your highs.

Dean pants as he slowly pulls his softening cock from your leaking hole. He grunts as he watches your mixed juices leak onto the floor, walls still spasming from the earth shattering climax you just experienced. He throws his gun to the side and tenderly unties your hands, bringing them to his mouth to kiss the tender flesh there. He wraps your arms around his neck as he pulls you against him.

“I really don’t know what I would do without you, Y/N. You’re so important to me. Not only me but Sammy.” He leans down and leaves a tender kiss against your lips. You can visibly see the love and adoration in his eyes as he speaks, “I-I love you, Y/N. I’ve known for so long but couldn’t admit it till now. I-just the thought of losing you- I couldn’t bear it. Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?” His eyes full with concern as he start to look over the rest of your body.

“No y-you didnt. That was- that was amazing” You breath, tears welling in your eyes at his admission. “I love you too Dean. I think I have for a while now” You smile and kiss him again.

Dean's eyes suddenly darken again as he take your face in his hands, making sure your looking directly at him. “If you ever disobey me like that again I swear Y/N, you won’t walk for a week. And you won’t go on a hunt for a month”

He growls before crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss.

“Yes sir” You gasp out, enjoying the grin that comes to his face.

Tags: @writtingrose

[shurisneakers]

shut in [4]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, threats

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: greetings everyone!! how are we all doing? i have nothing to say here tbh so anyway stan sam wilson being a lil shit whenever possible. 

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Alright, thank you.”

You hung up the call, trudging back to the house, discarding the battery along the way.

The air had a chill to it and there was an occasional breeze that went past, rustling leaves providing an eerily comforting background score. The temperature tended to rise as the day went on but nights were especially cold due to the abundance of trees. 

Even though the stress of the situation you were in constantly consumed all your waking thoughts, you still found the time to appreciate how beautiful your surroundings were. 

The last few days were barely memorable. Sam and you tended to stay out of each other's way unless your meal time coincided or you watched the local news together. The schedule had worked out favourably.

He wasn’t very hard to live with.

Most of the time.

His commentary and small jokes were never-ending but were not as unwelcome as you initially thought. It brought some much needed light into your otherwise dreary day. When it came to figuring out how to do laundry due to your now extended stay or whose turn it was to do it, things got a bit messy but were resolved quickly.

He used to disappear often for hours on end. You never concerned yourself with going after him to find out where he went, figuring that unless he was hatching a plot that led to your demise, he was entitled to his own privacy. He’d return a while later, calmer than when he left.

It was fine. Nothing to write home about. Neither of you were dead yet.

“What are you doing on the bed?” You were reconsidering your last thought when you walked into the bedroom to resume your self-interrupted sleep, only to find him face down on the sheets. “It’s my day today.”

“Just give me some time. I’ll be out of here soon enough.” His voice was muffled as he spoke into the sheets.

“You can take all the time you need tomorrow when it’s your turn.” You swatted at his legs, earning a grunt of chagrin from him.

“Go eat some soup and maybe you’ll calm down,” he fired back, unmoving.

“Today’s not soup day. Which you would know if you paid attention to our schedule. That we made. Together. The same schedule which says it’s my turn today.”

He groaned, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “My back’s killing me. Just give me a few.”

“Why, what’d you do?” you asked curiously, letting go of his leg.

“Combat training. Took a few beatings, fucked up my spine.”

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“It comes and goes.” Sam finally rolled onto his back, giving you a view of his face. His bone structure was amazing, even from quite possibly the ugliest angle you could have over him. “You should’ve seen the other guy.”

You just stared at him as he linked his arms behind his neck, elevating his head to look at you. He had a small stubble that was starting to grow longer. You wondered if he would shave it. He looked good regardless.

“How’s your beloved?”

“Huh?”

“The person you keep sneaking around to talk to on the phone. I’m not your dad, y’know. You can talk to them inside the house, ‘m not gonna ground you,” he quipped, a small, teasing smile on his face.

“He’s not my lover. Just... an acquaintance.” You felt the awkwardness starting to set in after you trailed off. “Anyway since you’re awake, we need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What happened that day. We’ve been avoiding it but we need to figure out what went wrong. Or at least a clue.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed, wincing as he sat up straight. “How do you want to do it?”

“Just talk me through how you got put on this mission and what exactly happened that day, I guess.” You took a place on the bed, leaning backward on your hand for support.

He nodded, delaying for a second to collect his thoughts before beginning.

“So basically-”

The sun was particularly relentless that day.  

The ringing bell above the door of his favourite coffee shop was a welcoming sound. The barista smiled at him in greeting, asking if he wanted his usual to go.

His park bench was empty as it always was. Sam liked to think of it as a small gift from the universe; the fact that it was perpetually unoccupied.

He liked to sit there and watch people’s day go by. His iced coffee-

“I don’t really require that much detail.”

“Patience. I’m getting there.”

It was arguably one of the most peaceful days he had had in awhile, and he was hoping to keep the streak going. Nothing seemed like it would phase him, not even the phone ringing, drawing his attention away from the scene in front of him. Caller ID didn’t trace who it was.

“Hello?”

“Wilson.”

Sam gripped the cup so hard he thought it might spill over onto his jeans.

“I told you not to call me, Ransone.”

“But honey we had such a good time last night,” he faux cooed, “You know I have needs-”

“I’m not getting involved in your stupid organisation, Vincent. I told you I’m done,” Sam broke in, not wanting to waste time listening to his stupid dramatics.

“Listen here, Wilson.” The swift change in his tone was looming, threatening. “You’re done when I say you’re done-”

“Wanna bet?” Sam took a sip of his coffee. “I thought we made it clear in Detroit that we’re done. Honey.”

He added the last part out of pure spite just to get a rise out of him. Much to his glee it seemed to work as Ransone let out a deep exhale before continuing.

“That was before we found out there’s a mole in my gang. I want you to kill him.”

“This is way below my pay grade. Have one of your interns do it. Your shitty murder warehouse hasn’t seen much action in a while.”

“This is Pierce we’re talking about. If he’s working for another organisation, his ass is going to be so guarded, these kids couldn’t wouldn’t even get past the gate. Besides, you know my murder warehouse is for special guests only-”

“Man, it must suck real hard to be you right now,” Sam didn’t wait for him to complete his sentence. He finished the last bit of the drink he had left, gathering his things before standing up. “Find someone else. I’m out.”

“You might want to reconsider that. We found him.”

He stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said steadily, grip on the phone tightening.

“I think you do, though. Had us fooled for a while there, thinking he’s dead. A little more research, some cash into the right pockets and boom! There he is, clear as day.”

Sam felt a chill go up his spine.

“He doesn’t know we know. We’re just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“If you even fucking think of touching him-” his fists were balled up, struggling to keep his anger from rising.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Ransone laughed. “I’ll just have one of my interns do it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Ransone. It’s not somethi-”

“Do this hit and I’ll leave him alone,” Ransone interjected. “You’ve worked so hard to pull him from our radar, Sammy. It would be a shame if it all went to waste.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. Suddenly the day didn’t seem as bright as it was a few minutes ago.

“I’ll text you the details. You tend to leave me on read so I thought I’d make it more fun. Do you want the confetti with the message or the lasers-”

Sam just hung up the call, feet firmly rooted in his spot. He had no idea what he was going to do.

The notification of a new text alerted him. Pierce’s address along with the exact timeline of when he’d be home.

It was across the country. If he botched the mission on purpose, Ransone wouldn't be able to find him for a few days at least, much less reach him. He could go on the run-

‘Do it or he dies.’

His train of thought was interrupted by a picture that made his blood boil.

Especially when it exploded with the stupid confetti effect.

“Okay, basically he threatened you with something to go do the hit.” You didn’t ask him what exactly he was threatening him with and Sam didn’t really elaborate.

“Yeah. Didn’t leave me with much of a choice. He’s batshit fuckin’ crazy anyway, I knew he’d do whatever he felt like.”

“So you ended up going.”

Pierce didn’t seem to get many visitors. Not that anyone could be blamed, this guy was one of the biggest pieces of shit Sam had had the misfortune of meeting.

Over the two days he had staked out in front of the mansion to find out if this guy had as much security as Ransone had boasted of, Sam had come to the conclusive truth that no, he very much did not. He had a standard home security system which was lacklustre compared to the rest of the house.

Maybe he just assumed that being a senior member of the mob would garner some fear to his name. Dumbass.

He found the tall shrubbery surrounding the property to be out of the line of sight of the camera, and climbing it wasn't very hard. He landed softly on the manicured lawn, adjusting his gloves and checking his surroundings before pulling his gun that was secured in the waistband of his pants.

He removed the safety, keeping it close to him as he stalked through the front yard.

The red car parked at the side earned an eye roll from him. If he had one, there was no doubt there’d be more. He just had to find a basement or garage.

Walking around the house, he kept close to the wall, searching for any opening to the basement.

It didn’t take long before he found a set of stairs to the exterior entrance of the basement. He checked to see if anyone was around before making his way down them. The lock was unsurprisingly easy to pick.

The basement was mostly dark save for a few strategic lights placed to highlight the magnificence of his several race cars. The man was moved slower than the second coming of Jesus. The cars just seemed like an overcompensation.

The switchboard was not difficult to find. He pulled open the cover, glancing at the switches before turning all of them off, plunging the whole basement into darkness. If his security system was as outdated as Pierce was, it would have turned off along with the rest of the house.

“Oh, that’s why the cameras weren't working when I showed up.” Bits that seemed amiss were beginning to place itself together the more his story progressed. “I assume you entered the house through the window on the side?”

“Sure did.”

Your guess was right. He’s the reason why it was ajar by the time you arrived.

As soon as he entered he had his gun raised. Scanning the room as he went past, his senses were dialed up to eleven. If he was really under the protection of Serpentine, they were doing a terrible job. He had gotten in completely unscathed.

As he made his way deeper into the house, the sound of some movie playing became louder. But he had cut off the power supply to the house.

His eyebrows pulled together tightly into a frown, he made his way down the hall towards the sound. No one was in the dining or living room he canvassed.

Finally, Pierce’s silhouette became clearer. He appeared to just be sitting there idly while a smaller screen played in front of him. It wasn’t a TV, just an iPad.

If Pierce was asleep it would just make the job easier. Gun raised, Sam made his way into the room silently.

Pierce was still. Sam raised the gun, taking a step closer.

A floorboard creaked.

He immediately cringed, shoulders tensed as he came to an immediate stop. It seemed like forever as he waited for Pierce to wake up, to brandish a gun and try and defend himself.

He didn’t.

Taking a step to the side, Sam moved diagonally. Each one was slow. Ready for any sudden movements from his end.

He finally stopped in front of Pierce.

A bullet hole in his forehead. Eyes open. Chest still.

He was dead.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Sam breathed out, lowering his gun. Pierce’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He didn’t look like had been dead for too long.

A soft thud in another room made his head snap up. It was in the same direction from where he came.

He silently moved backwards to the corner of the room, hoping that the darkness was enough of a disguise as he saw someone stalking down the hallway.

“And that’s when you come in. Thought you were comin’ back to make sure he was dead.”

“I had just got there. Saw that everything was off, and just assumed it was a power outage.”

“What about you? How’d you end up there?” Sam had his legs crossed, leaning forward to listen to you.

“Ransone told me that there was a spy who was sending information out for nearly two years. Needed him gone and he wasn’t sure if his other agent would show up-” you mentioned to him- “I guess that’s you. Told me I had an opening at 8pm. When I got there, the CCTV was off. Found the window open so I just used that.”

You were replaying your memory, step by step to remember what exactly you had seen. 

“Heard the movie playing, found no one when I went down the hall. I saw the car keys on the island, which came in handy later. Entered the room, pushed his head with the gun and he just slumped over like a damn rag doll. That’s when you made your grand entrance.”

“Got one chance to make an impression. Had to make sure I looked cool, emergin’ from the shadows and whatnot.”

“It doesn’t make sense though.”

“Ouch. Thought it was pretty legit, actu-”

“No, no-” you waved him off. “Not your entrance. The henchmen thing.”

He paused, mulling over what you said. “If he was working for Serpentine, he would have been more careful. Why did they show up after he’s dead?”

“I don’t think they work for Serpentine. If Pierce was giving them information, they wouldn’t kill him.” You had good reason to be confident about that. You thought you did, from previous assessments.

“Unless they were scared that he’d switch again,” Sam suggested. You looked up from your fidgeting fingers to him. “Didn’t want any of their secrets going back to Ransone. They got to him before we did.”

“Why’d they shoot at us then? If they killed him and left, why’d they wait for us to show up? Why did they try to kill us?”

“I think we’re ignoring the important thing here,” he paused. You looked at him expectantly, prodding him on. “How did they know we were coming? They should have killed him and disappeared but they expected us.”

You tilted your head. “Are you saying-”

“There might be more.”

“Pierce might not have been the only one,” you finished. “There are more spies.”

“Tipped ‘em off. Told them we were going to be there.”

“And killing us was just to poke Ransone with a stick,” you murmured, eyes downcast, fidgeting with your fingers again. “But that just seems random. It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, sweetheart.” Sam scoffed, leaning back again.

“We’re missing something. There’s something wrong.” You looked at him. “If it’s just a random attack, why did they release our face to the whole fuckin’ country? Why are they specifically targeting us?”

“Finishing what they started. Covering all their tracks from that day. If we’re not dead, we’re a liability.”

“What if it’s not Serpentine at all? What if it’s another gang?”

“Serpentine has the most motive.”

“We don’t know that.”

He looked at you incredulously. “I think there’s substantial evidence to suggest they fuckin’ hate us. Besides, they’d want me dead specifically.”

“Why?” you inquired, eyes narrowing.

He opened his mouth like he was going to explain but closed it a second later, leaving you guessing.

“Fine, but it doesn’t mean they’re the only ones who do.” You made a point to ask him later or at least conduct your own research into it. 

“Okay,” he said, shifting to lean on his elbows, “who else could it be? If Pierce was working for Serpentine and Ransone found out, sends someone to kill him, it’s essentially an attack on one of their own members. I’d say that's a pretty good motive.”

“I don’t know. Hydra doesn’t like us either. There’s Ten Rings too. But Serpentine just doesn’t work out.”

“How are you sure?” he asked. “You a spy for them too?”

You rolled your eyes at him as he raised his eyebrow. “It doesn’t make sense. What if we’re missing something? Did we go through everything?”

“I just went through my entire story down to the most irrelevant details. Twice. Nothing’s missing on my end.” He pushed himself off the bed, taking a long stretch before looking back at you.

“I think we should do it again. Just to make sure.” You rotated your torso to look at him. “We can figure it out-”

“You’re going to lose your mind if you keep at this any longer for today. Take a break.”

“I can’t take this lightly. Everyone’s out there looking for us and there is no one we can trust-”

“And going through our stories for the third time today is going to solve that how?” He had his hands crossed over his chest like a stern parent.

“I’m sorry but our faces are probably plastered in every damn police precinct in the country,” you snapped, “And I think that us remembering something some stupid detail might actually help rather than, I don’t know, taking naps and eating sandwiches. So no, I’m not going to drop it. Because I actually want to get out of here.”

You didn’t mean to sound so angry with him. He had told you everything twice already and patiently answered questions that you had. You didn’t think he was lying. You had no way of knowing but you hoped that some sort of allegiance was being formed between you both.

There was silence for a minute, leaving enough time for the guilt to creep in when he didn’t fire back. It’s what you expected.

“I’m not asking you to drop it. I’m saying take a break,” he said calmly. “You’re thinkin’ enough for the both of us anyway.”

You let out a small exhale, forcing the edge to retreat from your voice.

“I’ll be back in a while.” With that he turned around and left the room. A few minutes later you heard the backdoor open and shut.

Great.

You massaged your throbbing temples, eyes closed. He was right. Your mind wasn’t clear and you had been at this for hours. You wouldn’t be able to think critically.

Or at all.

You dropped back on the bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to your face. The coolness of the fabric felt nice.

You just let out a sigh, turning to your side to hopefully get some sleep.

_____

You woke up what seemed like hours later to a dark room.

It took your eyes a while to adjust stepping out into the hallway illuminated by the light in the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice rang out. “Made you a sandwich.”

You rubbed your eyes groggily, looking where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a sandwich on the table. He sat at the seat adjacent to it.

“Thank you.” You contemplated sitting next to him for dinner. It would be a first.

In the end you just grabbed your plate, giving him a half smile before making your way to the couch. You settled on sitting on the floor instead, leaning your back against the foot of the sofa.

The TV was already halfway through playing Megamind so you just let it continue, mindlessly chewing on the bread. As far as peanut butter sandwiches go, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Wilson,” you called out sheepishly, eyes not leaving the movie. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s okay.”

How he let go of it so easily was beyond you. The sandwich was surprising too, but you took it, not wanting to change his mind. He couldn’t have poisoned it. You had checked his stuff.

You sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Your mind kept slipping in and out of thought but it was a comfortable atmosphere you found yourself in.

After the credits started rolling, you went to leave your plate in the sink. Sam brushed past you, grabbing the blanket at the foot of the couch, launching himself onto the cushions.

“What are you doing?” you asked, puzzled as he snuggled in.

“Going to sleep?” He tilted his head to look at you.

“Use the bed.”

“It’s your turn today.”

“Your back’s fucked up. I’ll take the couch.”

He didn’t budge.

“Go on.” You mentioned to the room with a shrug of your shoulder.

“You’re not going to let me argue, are you?”

You pressed your lips into a straight line to hide a smile, shaking your head lightly.

“Well, okay.” He let out a small noise as he got up. “Guess I’m sleeping business class tonight.”

Sam walked past you, careful not to bump into you. You swapped places with him, making your way to the couch, readjusting the blanket that was haphazardly left there.  

“Y/N.” You peered at him from the corner of your eye, only to fully turn when you caught his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

You just nodded, tossing the blanket over yourself as he switched off the light.

Next part

[bts-weverse-trans]

201125 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - V

V: “I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.25

During V’s photo shoot, he’s wearing a different expression in every photo on the monitor. They create a tension and an anticipation because we have no way of knowing what he might do even one second later. But the result is cool from start to finish. It’s V.

How are you doing these days? It’s been a long time since you were able to see your fans. V: I’m not over-stressing about how I can’t meet the fans face to face right now. I just want to see them when it’s safe to meet. I think now, I can wait until then.

As your song says, “Life Goes On.” You decided to keep going on with your life. V: We have to move on. We can’t feel defeated forever. I felt a lot better after making some songs.

Other than working on “Dynamite,” you’ve spent very little time away from home. How do you pass the time when you’re by yourself? V: I really like just spacing out, so I’ll sit in my room doing nothing for hours. I could try putting on a movie, but then I couldn’t concentrate and would just zone out. When that happens, it’s kind of like I’m living without a thought or care in the world. Maybe I should make a song about all of this someday. Probably call it “Spaced.” (laughs) Anyway, these days I’m looking for ways to keep myself happy.

Have you found anything? V: Well, I’m listening to LPs lately. It’s getting to be Christmas season and I love snow, so I bought two or three Christmas LPs to listen to. I’m also listening to old jazz songs by Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. Frank Sinatra is cool, like chilled wine; Sammy Davis Jr. is crazy talented. (laughs)

So that’s the type of performer you find cool. V: Those two were also a big inspiration to me while we were working on “Dynamite.” Sinatra has all this jazzy body language, but he also threw some disco in there. And I imagined how Sammy Davis Jr. might dance if there were a mic on stage and he had to dance around it. They were a lot of help when I was finding a way to be upbeat and cool at the same time in “Dynamite.”

I guess making “Dynamite” must have been some consolation even when you couldn’t meet fans due to COVID-19. V: We couldn’t put on a concert and couldn’t see ARMY, so we were feeling more and more drained. It seemed like an endless battle. We really wanted to see ARMY feeling better, so we had to get back up on stage and make another album so that together we could beat this thing. I want to be the friend who’s always cheering ARMY on, but there aren’t many ways to make them feel better.

How was the whole “Dynamite” experience? You made it to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 and also had a chance to perform in a variety of different styles. V: Shooting the Tiny Desk Concert was a very natural process, which was nice. But actually, with the situation being what it is, we couldn’t really feel much. The day the news came out was of course thrilling. It was great, actually, all of us calling each other and some of us laughing and others crying: “We haven’t gone down the wrong path after all! Turns out we had a chance—it really was possible!”

While you were performing in “Dynamite,” you were also the visual director for BE. I’m sure you were unimaginably busy taking photos, but were you able to communicate well with the other members? V: We communicated smoothly, and I listened to all of their concept ideas and I organized everything around that. If we tried something too natural, it wouldn’t be conceptual enough, so we did our best to strike a balance.

You had everyone sitting in the middle, with the set arranged symmetrically around you. V: That was made possible thanks to everyone having their own ideas. There was no overlap between items, which actually allowed us to create a sense of unity by placing all these different props symmetrically. It wasn’t intended to be symmetrical; each member really did choose something unique.

In your room, you included a violin and a photograph. V: That’s a picture I took. I like photos and drawings, but if I had used any art then I would’ve been using that one particular artist’s work, so I thought I’d better use one of my own photos. I ended up choosing the violin because I learned how to play it but also because I enjoy classical and jazz.

So how do you feel it turned out? V: I made it, so naturally I like it. (laughs) Part of me thinks I should’ve tried something more conceptual. BE was supposed to give off sort of a magazine or poster feel since we didn’t shoot many of those, but it ended up having more of a natural feel to it. But I did think that the next time we try to make a photoshoot conceptual we should move away from that natural look a bit. The group explained their ideas clearly and they were simple enough to do, so I think it all went really smoothly.

It sounds like there were no problems choosing the songs for BE. How did you feel recording your parts on the other members’ songs? V: I like “Dis-ease,” which Hobi hyung wrote, but stylistically it was challenging. It’s really far from my own style so it took a long time to get used to. “Fly to My Room” used to be my favorite song, but it was also the hardest to sing. It was okay at first, until Jimin jumped in.

What about Jimin? V: Because I had to keep up with Jimin, the song went up maybe three keys. I thought I would die. (laughs) It started out as my favorite song, but it was just way too hard to sing.

But why did you have to sing that way? V: Jimin said he was sorry, that he couldn’t go any lower. (laughs) When I first heard the demo version, the key was perfect for me, so I thought it would sound great and I should definitely do it. But then Jimin said he wanted to do it too, so I said, “Great, let’s do it together.” Turns out we went up three keys. So I said, “Hey, what’s the deal? Should I just give up?” But, well, somehow it all worked out in the end. It was a happy ending. (laughs)

People might be able to hear that part better because it’s so much higher. (laughs) The tone of your combined voices and the way they contrast is really impressive. V: Yes, but all that aside, it was quite the struggle. (laughs) And the chorus is really long. I think it repeats, what, four times?

Yes, it feels like the chorus never ends. The production style is very unique. I like how the emotion is carried through the whole way. V: I agree, but it’s so long. The chorus turned out crazy, like I was kind of beating the melody into people’s ears. (laughs) The chorus is good, but the whole song’s melody is really catchy. Whenever I heard the beat, I was totally into it. The way the vocals pick up on the beat and the melody was so original and fun, I just had to do it.

What instructions did you give to the other members when they were singing on your song, “Blue & Grey”? V: I didn’t really have to give them instructions much. I told them it would be nice if they could think of all their problems and then try healing those wounds with their voices, since if they focus on those emotions, there’ll be more feeling in the song. They all did a good job expressing the emotions I wasn’t able to.

It seems like you intended “Blue & Grey” to be a melancholy song. I heard you had originally planned to put it on your mixtape. V: I wrote “Blue & Grey” when I was at my lowest point, when I was actually asking whether I could keep going with my work or not. Even the fun parts of work became a chore, and my whole life felt aimless. “Where do I go from here? I can’t even see the end of the tunnel.” Those kinds of thoughts hit me hard.

Was there a reason for that? V: It was when work was a major challenge. When I’m happy, I want to work, and when I’m happy I can put on a smile and see the fans, but there was just so much work to do. I’m an easygoing, you know, laid-back person, but I was stretched too thin and I was starting to sputter. What I mean is, I was having a really tough time, and thinking, “What’s waiting for me at the end? It’s important to be successful, but I’m also trying to be happy, so how come I’m not happy right now?” That’s when I started to write “Blue & Grey.”

So writing the song was sort of your way of bringing yourself some peace of mind. V: There was a time I was going through something like this. I was having the toughest time, but I couldn’t keep carrying that feeling around with me. Instead, I could use it as a kind of fertilizer. So I took care of that feeling by constantly writing it down in my notes. I just kept writing everything down, and when finally I felt like I wanted to try writing a song, I did. After the song was finished, I felt a sense of accomplishment, and that’s how I was able to let go of “Blue & Grey.” That was one way I wanted to try getting over my problem.

The songs you make or sing solo on all have similar images: night; loneliness; snow. V: I like nighttime and the late-night air, and when it snows, too. I liked those things since way back when, but lately I feel things like snow and the night air keep me alive. They may just be another part of normal life to other people, but to me, they represent very special moments.

That makes me think of the ending from “Blue & Grey”: “After secretly sending my words up into the air / Now I fall asleep at dawn.” V: I don’t really sleep well. I toss and turn and get caught up in a lot of thoughts. Even when I turn out all the lights, I can see everything clearly. I close my eyes, but all my thoughts spread wide open. Then I’m sleepy at work, and staring off into space when I’m alone, with bags under my eyes, but if I want to avoid that then I really have to sleep. Except, with the way I am, it doesn’t allow for it. I wrote about that in the first and second verses; a feeling like, “When I’m stuck thinking like this, everything is grey, and I’m all blue.” I wrote these feelings out as a song, and now that I’m thinking about it again, I’m actually over it. I feel a lot lighter. I sent my words out into the air, and now I fall asleep at dawn. You’re supposed to sleep at night, but I’m sleeping in the morning again. So I say “good night,” but it’s not actually a good night. “I pass out because I’m exhausted” kind of thing. It’s the emotions I felt in those moments that I wanted to express.

What do you hope hearing about that feeling will do for listeners? V: Rather than just some stranger telling them to cheer up, I think it’s better to say something like, “You seem depressed lately,” or, “Seems like these days it’s tough for you to perk up.” “Blue & Grey” is the same: “You’re depressed lately? Me too. We’re in the same boat. Wanna talk about how you’re feeling? You wanna feel better, right? I know, but sometimes it feels like you’re being washed away by a whirlpool of stress.” I want the listeners to hear me saying that to them.

It’s important to express your emotions right away when they’re so overwhelming. V: Yes. I usually write a lot of songs when I’m feeling emotional, but these days I have so many different things to do that I can’t really write anything. I tried to write something before when I had a little time, but nothing came out because the feelings I had were already gone. So I tell myself, “You gotta write a lot when you’ve got the feels!” (laughs) And then I open my notes app and come back to old notes, like, “Ah, so that’s how I was feeling back then? I see. Well, that’s how I used to be, I guess.” So I tried to write “Blue & Grey” quickly, as soon as a big feeling came on.

Then it’s important to revisit those feelings when you’re producing a song or choosing which songs to release? V: If you can’t bring the feeling back, you can’t make the song, either. I release a song if I feel it expresses who I was and how I felt at the time when I wrote it. Even if we record it perfectly, if the result sounds artificial, I would rather release another, more honest sounding song instead, even if it’s not perfect.

Are those the kinds of songs you selected for your mixtape? V: Um … I don’t know. This is my first mixtape, you know, so I feel a ton of pressure about it. I’m thinking all the time about what kind of album I should make so that I can feel satisfied with it. The title track is the title track, but everyone also says to just leave it as it is, but I keep getting the urge to keep putting in more and more.

You usually write and choose songs based on your emotions. Maybe the pressure to make your first mixtape comes from you having a hard time with that. V: I think it still has a long way to go. Maybe it’s because it’s my first mixtape, but it’s so hard. And I feel like it’s a little lazy. People tell me just to put it out and see how it does, but I’d rather know what needs to be fixed before I release it. I also don’t want the title track to be depressing. I want it to be positive and help people beat those depressed feelings. But it’s not easy.

That sounds a lot like what the members conveyed with “Life Goes On.” V: I think we showed the current situation in a very straightforward and honest way. We’re still going, going, going. And the going is tough. But it doesn’t end here. I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together. I hope we’ll all be happy in the future and keep on doing our own best, cherishing our hope for our happy future.

Trans © Weverse

[queenofcats17]

Hey Queenie! I know I've been on a BatIM kick again (as you know) and I've always loved your writing, so I was wondering if you'd mind writing something for one of my Aus? (Any of them, Little Sheep, Borrower, or even the newest one, LAMP.) (Feel free to just delete this if you don't feel like writing anything.)

Since you asked nicely, I will.

Also, I’m sorry this took so long.

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

The Ink Demon was honestly having a really good time. It was the first time he hadn’t slogged his way through one of these loops, hating every moment of it. He could move freely, didn’t melt everything around him. He was seeing and experiencing things he’d never seen or experienced before. 

Like hanging out with Boris.

He had to admit, now that he’d had a chance to spend some time with Boris, he was starting to understand why Henry was so fond of the cartoon wolf. Boris was just so gosh-darned endearing. Like a big puppy.

“You have to be cheating, Boris,” the Ink Demon laughed, laying his cards down on the table. “There’s no way you could win again!”

Boris looked positively scandalized, drawing back and putting a hand on his chest.

“I’m joking, Boris,” the Ink Demon assured the wolf, reaching over to pat Boris’ shoulder. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Boris let out a dramatic huff, making a big show of considering what “Henry” had said. Finally, he gave a small nod.

“Thanks, buddy.” The Ink Demon smiled softly, reaching across the table to pat Boris’ shoulder. Boris gave him a big dopey grin before raking the cards back to shuffle them.

“He probably did cheat,” Henry supplied. “He’s done it loads of times when he played with me.”

“As far as he’s concerned he’s still playing with you,” the Ink Demon replied. A part of him wondered if Boris remembered any of the loops. Probably not. He wanted to ask Sammy how much he remembered about the loops, but Sammy hadn’t woken up yet.

Although Henry had promised he’d talk to Sammy once the former music director woke up, the Ink Demon still wasn’t particularly looking forward to the conversation. A sane Sammy was no doubt going to be incredibly shouty.

“Hey, do you want me to cover dinner tonight?” The Ink Demon asked as Boris began to deal out the cards again.

Boris looked up from the cards, frowning and shaking his head.

“Come on,” the Ink Demon coaxed. “You’ve been cooking for me ever since I got here. I want to return the favor.”

Boris gave the Demon a look that clearly meant “you don’t need to return anything”.

“I don’t want to cook for you because I think I owe you anything,” the Ink Demon clarified, reaching over to touch Boris’ shoulder again. He wondered if Boris noticed how touchy “Henry” had been. It just felt so nice to be able to touch people without melting them. “You’re my friend, Boris. I want to do something nice for you.” He smiled softly, rubbing a thumb over Boris’ shoulder.

Boris seemed to consider this, putting a large gloved hand on the Demon’s. After a moment, he nodded.

The Ink Demon beamed, patting Boris’ shoulder. “You won’t regret it, Boris. I’ll make you something amazing. I hope you like bacon soup.”

Boris let out a noise that might have been a laugh, giving the Demon an incredulous look and a raised eyebrow.

“It will be good,” the Demon insisted with a laugh, pulling back. “I promise.”

Boris responded by sticking his tongue out, picking up his cards and hiding behind them.

“You know how to cook?” Henry asked incredulously.

“No, but you do.” The Ink Demon smiled as he picked up his own cards. “So you’re going to be helping me.”

“There aren’t a lot of ways to cook bacon soup, you know.”

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to get creative then, won’t we?”

They ended up just doing the same thing Boris usually did, which meant they just warmed up the bacon soup in the big pot. The Ink Demon still pretended like he was presenting Boris with a gourmet meal, though. Boris found it very funny, laughing behind his hands. The Ink Demon pretended to be offended, but he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. 

As he sat down to eat, he still couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face. The bacon soup wasn’t good, it never had been, but that wasn’t a point. It felt nice to share a meal with someone. It felt nice to be... something close to normal for once. To be cared for. The Ink Demon knew Boris only cared about him because he thought he was Henry but... It still felt nice.

Guilt rose up in Henry’s chest. It was a guilt he was incredibly familiar with at this point. The old thoughts crept up again, whispering that this was all his fault. If he hadn’t left, maybe the Ink Demon wouldn’t have been treated so terribly. Maybe he could have saved the first draft that would become the Demon.

“Hey, it’s okay.” The Ink Demon’s mental voice was gentle. “It’s not your fault. None of this was your fault. Joey’s the one at fault.”

“I know I know.” Henry let out a long exhale. “It’s just hard not to think that way, you know? I told myself that story so many times. Wondered if there was something I could have done differently.”

“I know. Joey did a number on both of us. But we’re going to get even.”

Henry smiled to himself. “Why don’t you enjoy your soup for now? We can deal with the whole revenge thing later.”

The Ink Demon nodded, raising the spoon to his mouth again. The soup had begun to cool while he’d been talking with Henry. Meanwhile, Boris was getting up to get more soup.

“How can you put away so much soup, Boris?” The Demon laughed. “You’re like a black hole.” 

Boris shrugged, dishing more soup into his bowl.

The Ink Demon shook his head, letting out another laugh before returning to his soup. They had a few more days before they would need to venture out. He was going to enjoy it while he could. There was no telling when he’d get another chance to relax like this.

After all, there was Hell waiting for them.

[sapphicrowena]

through the cold i’ll find my way back to you

15x18 coda, 1.7k. read on ao3

The Empty isn't empty.

There's the entity itself, of course, smiling wickedly with the face of a friend lost long ago.

There's Billie, not dead but dying, her every breath a grimace. Her skin is mottled and horrid, and everything about her looks shabbier and more ragged in the not-light of this place.

And there's Castiel.

Castiel, released from the sickly cold grasp that dragged him here, on his knees in defeat and relief in equal measure. Castiel, an Angel fallen in more ways than one, already feeling the tide of his oft-felt misery washing over the joy in his chest but not letting it sink. Castiel, free of the burden he has been all too glad to carry for the last decade.

The Empty looks at him from a throne, and says with Meg’s voice, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I disagree,” Castiel says, surprised to find he still has a voice. “I think I should’ve done it years ago.”

The relief borders on euphoric. It’s every hunt-gone-sideways-but-still-survived rolled into one, every life saved, every battered and bruised word of prayer heard in the early hours of the morning. It’s a secret held for twelve years and released at the time it would do the most good for the world.

“There’s no way out of this one,” the Empty promises. 

“I know,” Castiel says, and he believes it. He’s not sure he wants a way out. He’s done his part.

“Are you going to be quiet this time?”

This is a difficult question to answer. For the first time, he feels no urge to argue. There is no survival instinct here. He knows he should, based on track record, be looking for a way out, at the very least. But he feels a kind of serenity in this moment, this afterglow of sorts, that distracts the part of him that would pick a fight in any other circumstance. 

He stands. He almost wipes at his knees, out of habit, before remembering that there’s nothing here to dirty them. There’s nothing here at all.

“I think,” he says, “I just might.”

The Empty says nothing, eyes cold and skeptical, and he walks away.

He finds himself at Billie’s side. She has nothing to prop herself up against, so she is on her back, pitiful and ruined, her scythe at her side. Castiel stares at it, and can’t help but wish she had left it behind. A weapon like that could be a real advantage in the fight to come.

“If you’ve come to gloat,” Billie says, pain tracing the lines of her face, “you can save it.”

“In a way,” Castiel says, and he doesn’t have any bitterness or ill will to give her, “I owe you a thank you.”

He should hate her. He should want to sit and watch her draw her last aching breaths. After everything she’s done - to him, to Dean, to the rest of his patchwork little family - she surely deserves what she’s getting. 

But he hears his own voice in his ears, hears himself say I love you and mean it in every possible way, and he can’t. He can’t hate her, because like it or not, she gave him that push. He will never see Dean again, and he can hate her for that, but he will make peace with that, eventually. 

He’ll have enough time here to make peace with a lot of things.

-

The Empty isn’t empty.

There’s Billie’s scythe, unmoved from the place it lay next to her before she died and disappeared. She took a long time to go, but she went, and that’s all she had to leave behind.

There’s the Empty, still using Meg’s face. Still awake. Still asking for some quiet.

And there’s Castiel, without a word past his lips since the soft, “Oh,” that left him when Billie vanished, just walking. He doesn’t have a destination, because there are no destinations here, and he doesn’t know if it counts as a journey without one, but he walks. 

He doesn’t stop. He could be moving in place for all he knows, nothing but void in all directions, but it doesn’t deter him. He walks and walks and walks, footsteps echoing off nothing, and he thinks. There’s not much else to do.

He thinks of home, of earth, and of the battle that might be still waiting to happen or already come and gone. He thinks of Sam and Jack and the world he’s left behind. He thinks of the Impala and how she purrs like a lioness and smiles like a shark.

Mostly, he thinks of Dean, but that’s nothing new. He would think of Dean even if he were dead and disappeared like Billie. He would think of Dean even if he were standing in front of him.

The Empty finds him, occasionally, or he finds it, or they find each other.

“Aren’t you tired?” it asks. From anyone else, those words might be comforting or empathetic.

In truth, Castiel is tired. He’s been tired for years. But he can’t - if he stops, he knows it’ll be for good. And he isn’t ready for that. He can’t let go yet. He’s not sure what it is he’s holding onto, but he knows it’ll be gone forever if he stops.

“No,” he says. 

He keeps walking.

-

The Empty isn’t empty. 

There’s the quiet, boundless and permanent, a heavy blanket that presses in from every angle.

There’s the Empty, who hasn’t paid a visit in a long time, but still lurks at the not-edges of not-space.

And there’s Castiel, no longer walking. No longer thinking. Very close to no longer being anything at all.

-

The Empty isn’t empty.

There’s the quiet, shattered and jagged.

There’s Castiel, awake, and the Empty, furious.

And there’s Jack.

He is tattered and frayed and glowing like a pyre. He calls out, in a voice made of urgency, “Castiel?”

Castiel stands - he doesn’t remember lying down, or sitting up - and Jack’s eyes, burning with white light, find him. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since they last saw each other, but Jack doesn’t look any different to how Castiel remembers him - apart from, of course, the power that crackles at his fingertips and shines from his pores.

“How are you here?” Castiel asks. He stumbles forward, clumsy and forgetful, toward the sun of a boy before him. “This can’t -”

“We won. I’m here to take you home,” Jack says. His voice sounds like a thousand. Then, softer, as Castiel approaches him, “It’s over. It’s done, Cas, we won.”

The halo of light around Jack doesn’t burn like Castiel thinks it ought to. Jack folds into him, at once ethereal and impossibly human, and Castiel remembers what he’s been missing, all this time on his own.

Over Jack’s shoulder, Castiel sees the Empty, and his blood runs cold.

Jack lets him go and turns to face it, his shoulders square and confident. His jaw sets with a determination he could only have learned from the Winchesters. The kind of determination that says no, you move.

The kind of determination that Castiel fell from Heaven to learn for himself.

“Jack -” he warns. He can’t read the expression on the Empty’s stolen face.

There is a long moment of silence as they size each other up, a cosmic ancient and a boy-shaped god.

Then, the Empty speaks. It says: “You can have him. I want to sleep.”

Jack lays a hand on his shoulder, and Castiel closes his eyes.

-

The bunker library isn’t empty.

There’s one table buried in a mountain of books, another cluttered with bowls and candles and bones, and chairs toppled on their sides.

There’s a small crowd of onlookers, some cowering behind the shelves. Two throwing themselves forward into the action. One going farther than the other, looking like he hasn’t slept in a year.

And there’s Castiel, in love with him all over again.

Dean Winchester comes to a stop a foot away from Castiel. He stands there, his face a swirling, unsure mix of hesitation and relief and astonishment, and doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t speak for so long that Castiel notices the quiet isn’t just him. It’s everywhere. The room holds its breath, and Castiel holds his too, until the novelty of having breath to hold wears off and he can’t do it anymore.

He says, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s face splits into a watery grin. “Hey, Cas,” he says, and crushes him in a hug that pushes all the air out of his lungs.

Castiel’s hands land at Dean’s shoulder blades, snaking up his back to make a home out of rough fabric bunched between his fingers. His eyes close, and Dean holds him tighter, and there is nothing else in the world but this.

Into Castiel’s shoulder, where only he can hear, Dean says, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not saying it back.” 

The words sound in Castiel’s ears and in his head. He doesn’t know if the prayer is intentional, but he feels that pull of longing and decides it doesn’t matter. None of it matters, just this.

“Dean, you don’t -”

“No,” Dean says, and he pulls back far enough that Castiel can look him in the eye. “I should have said it back. I should have said it - I should’ve said something a damn long time ago.”

There are hands on Castiel’s face. They’re calloused and hard from a life lived too unfairly, but they’re gentle as they hold him. Tender to match the eyes Castiel knows so well.

“You said - you said it was something you knew you couldn’t have,” Dean whispers. “But, Cas, you’ve had me. You’ve always had me. Ever since - god, who cares since when? You have me. I have been yours.”

The bunker library isn’t empty, but when Dean kisses him, slow and soft and worshipful, it may as well be.

“I thought -” Castiel says, when they part. “I thought you didn’t - I thought you couldn’t -”

Dean smiles, bashful and sweet, and Castiel falls and falls and falls.

“You were never the brains of the operation, Cas,” he says. “We both know Sammy’s the smart one.”

Dean kisses him again, and again, and again, and oh, how wrong Castiel was. There is a certain amount of happiness in saying it, in just being, but it is nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to the having.

-

Dean Winchester’s bedroom isn’t empty.

There’s the pile of clothes on the floor, peeled reverently from their owners layer by painstaking layer, a phone charging in the corner, and the gun he keeps under a pillow.

There’s Dean himself, of course, sleeping soundly for the first time in years, maybe.

And there’s Castiel.

[ecto-american]

Prom Season

Phic Phight Oneshot for Rikaleeta and ghostgothgeek: As Prom draws nearer, Danny finds that he has competition in asking Sam to prom. Danny/Sam

Read on AO3 and FFN

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"Dude, you're staring again," Tucker nudged him. Danny blinked, snapping out of his daze, and he stood up straight, tapping his fingers anxiously on the counter.

"Sorry, dude, it's just. What the hell would Dale want with Sam?" he scowled.

The jock was standing near Sam, the two chatting idly by Sam's favorite part of the comics store, the vinyl section. Sam was smiling, nodding and agreeing with whatever Dale was talking to her about.

"Dale's been eying Valerie lately, maybe he's asking Sam about her?" Tucker suggested. He smiled politely at a customer who came into his line, promptly beginning to check them out. "Even so, why do you care? Sammy's a big girl."

"Prom season's coming up, somebody might ask her," Danny argued lightly.

"And why's that matter?" Tucker asked. In no time at all, the customer had paid and left, and the two were left standing in the mostly empty comics store.

"Dude, you know guys!" Danny grumbled, throwing his hands up as if it was obvious. "They only want one thing, especially after prom! You should know. Don't you and Star plan on finally doing it after prom?"

"Probably, but mostly because we've already been doing it," Tucker shrugged. Danny choked on nothing.

"Wait, what? How come you didn't tell me!?" Danny asked. Tucker opened his mouth to reply, only to jerk his head to Sam.

Dale had left the store seemingly, and Sam was already at the counter, clutching a new vinyl. Danny chuckled.

"This is why we can't visit Tucker at work, you'll always end up with something," he teased her. She rolled her eyes.

"But Tucker works here now, so he'll be sweet and let me use his employee discount?" she half-asked hopefully, staring at Tucker with a bright smile. He sighed, and he entered his employee discount code as he rang her up. "Thank you!"

"Anytime," he assured her. He handed her her bag. "So did Dale ask you to prom?" Sam snorted in amusement.

"Oh hell no," she replied. "He wanted to know if anybody had asked Valerie, and if I thought his plan to ask her would go over well."

Tucker sent Danny a sideways "I told you so" smirk, and Danny made an annoyed grumble.

"Either way, you ready to drag me to Hot Topic?" Danny asked.

"Only every day," Sam said. She turned to Tucker. "You close tonight, right? Do you want us to swing by and take you home?" Tucker shook his head no.

"Nah, it's okay!" he assured her. "I have my uncle's old car now, remember?" Sam lit up a bit.

"Oh yeah! Well, just drive careful!"

Tucker waved her off with a grin.

"Don't worry about me. You two lovebirds have fun," he teased. "But not too much fun."

Danny could feel his cheeks burn. A glance at Sam, and he could see her own face flushing some. However, she rolled her eyes and jokingly flipped Tucker off, getting one in response as they walked out and into the mall.

"Do you want me to carry your bag?" Danny offered, holding his hand out.

"Sure!" Sam agreed, and she handed it over. "Have you thought about the piercing? I'll buy you one if you're going for it."

"Eh, I'm still trying to figure out how badly my mom would flip if she saw that I got my nose pierced, and if it'd be worth it lecture," Danny shrugged.

"You should totally do it, then deflect it by coming out as Danny Phantom," she joked. Danny snorted. "Come on, we could match!" Sam had gotten her left nostril pierced almost a year ago, currently occupied by a tiny black skull, as well as four total piercings per ear. As expected, her mom nearly lost it over the nose charm. She poked his nose. "You could get a little white ghost charm." He couldn't help but smile.

"Now you're tempting me to risk it," he admitted.

He gestured to the Hot Topic, and Sam went inside first, him right behind her. She went right for the piercings display, looking. After a moment, she tapped on the case, looking over her shoulder for Danny.

"See? Right there, you could get that cute little silver ghost," she told him. Danny peeked over her shoulder. She pointed at another charm, one in the shape of a laptop. "Oh! And Tucker could get that one! We could all kinda match!"

"Pretty sure Tucker's mom would actually kill him if he came home with another piercing," Danny replied. Sam had already convinced Tucker of getting his ears pierced, and his mom was Very Unhappy about it. "Just like my mom would kill me if I came home with a nose piercing."

"You're already half dead though," Sam pointed out. Danny gave a half shrug and smile.

"Got me there. Alright, I'll get it," he said. Sam grinned widely, going to the counter to immediately ask for an employee to retrieve it.

They only browsed a bit more before they finally left. No sooner were they out the door…

"Sam!" a familiar voice called out excitedly. The not-lovebirds glanced over to see Paulina and Elliot coming up to them, Paulina a few steps ahead as she excitedly half-jogged over to Sam. Elliot was carrying two Starbucks cups, taking his time following. Paulina threw her arms around Sam, hugging her tightly, the goth only giving a half smile and lightly patting her back. "If I knew you were coming to the mall, I would have invited you to get your nails done with us! Look, Elliot and I match!"

Paulina pulled away to show off white nails with pink details.

"Oh they look nice!" Sam complimented. "It's okay though. Coming today was kinda a last minute thing." Or rather, they decided to hang out here after catching the Box Ghost, who was making himself home in one of the new stores that hadn't quite opened yet.

"You got me Starbucks?" Danny joked as Elliot finally came close enough to properly hear him. Elliot rolled his eyes. "How sweet."

"If you wanna give me the four dollars it costs, sure," he joked back. He handed Paulina the clear pink drink, and she took a long sip from it. Danny noticed that he did kinda match her, with black nails and matching details, only in a pastel blue.

"What are you guys up to?" Paulina asked. "We were just about to see if Macy's had any cute prom dresses out yet." The mentioning of prom made Danny's stomach feel a bit weirdly queasy.

"We're gonna go get Danny's nose pierced!" Sam replied, pointing to his nose. Danny snapped out of the feeling.

"Wait, what? We're doing that today?" he asked. Sam grinned.

"You're eighteen, they'll let you!" she replied. She reached into the Hot Topic bag to pull out the piercing. "I gotta make you put it on before you change your mind." Oh, a bit too late already.

"Ooh, that's a lot more interesting than prom dresses!" Elliot mused. "I can drive us." He put his free hand to his ear. "I've been thinking about getting another piercing anyway." Paulina hummed thoughtfully.

"Spike should be working today, so I might see if he has my new tattoo design ready," Sam mused.

Another thing that her mom, if she were to ever find out, would flip out over. Sam already had two that her family were oblivious to. Danny knew that she had a spider on a web on her ribcage; he had held her hand while she got that one done (and nearly ended up with a broken hand). The other was a black and deep purple rose and vine on her thigh, which he had only seen right after she had gotten it. Jazz, out of everybody, had gone with her to get it, and even came back with a tattoo herself. Though Jazz, like a nerd, had opted for a book tattoo. Danny had never seen it before outside of the photo Jazz took of it, but knew that it was on her ribcage and something Spike gave her as an anniversary present.

"I guess that settles it!" Elliot grinned. "Let's go to the tattoo and piercing shop!"

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

After somehow surviving Elliot's crappy little car, only somewhat affectionately called "the shitbox", they were huddled in the waiting room area of the shop. Paulina, already filling out the usual safety and health and consent forms, was standing and staring at the wall of previous art done.

"You gonna get a tattoo instead?" Elliot teased her as he handed the receptionist his own filled paperwork. Paulina shot him a smile, but still slapped his shoulder.

"Papa would kill me," she insisted.

"So? Get it where nobody will see," Elliot replied. Paulina playfully slapped him again.

Danny rolled his eyes, continuing to fill out his form as he drafted all the excuses he'd have to give his mom when she inevitably chewed his ass out when he got home. Whelp, he was already bound to be grounded sooner or later cause of the ghosts. Might as well spice up the grounding reasoning once in a while.

Sam appeared from the back, clutching a piece of paper up. Spike was behind her. Sam made a beeline for Danny.

"Dude, look at how nice it is!" she told him, holding it out for him to see. Danny glanced up. It was a skull with flowers growing out of it.

"Oh, that's sick," he commented.

"I know, right?" Sam grinned. Danny smiled, returning his attention to the paperwork.

"So you wanna get that this Saturday?" Spike spoke up.

"Uh, Danny are you free Saturday?" Sam asked. Danny glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow.

"After today I'll probably be grounded," he joked, signing his name for the last time on the forms. Sam chuckled.

"True," she replied. "Hmm, ah whatever. I can tough it out." Danny quickly looked up again as it suddenly hit him why he needed to be free. Sam had already turned to Spike. "Yeah, let's go for Saturday."

"Oh, if you want somebody around, I can come," Elliot popped up.

"That'd be awesome!" Sam grinned. "This one's going on my back, so it's supposed to hurt."

"Well, you can break my hand, I don't care," Elliot assured her. Danny's chest squeezed a bit as he felt a hot flash hit him.

"No it's okay, I can just sneak out!" he said immediately. Sam glanced at him.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't wanna get you into anymore trouble," she assured him.

"I don't care," Danny quickly blurted out. Spike chuckled.

"Man, Mrs. Fenton's scary when she's pissed, your best bet is to just obey her," Spike told him. He nodded at Danny. "Did Jazz tell you about how she nearly got into a fistfight at the bridal shop a few days ago?"

"No?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"Basically when Jazz went in for her dress fitting, she had apparently gained a little bit of stress weight since the last fitting, cause she's been driving herself insane over grad school applications," Spike explained. Danny nodded understandingly. "and the lady fitting her dress kind of gushed over it cause she thought Jazz got pregnant. It made her cry, and man. Mrs. Fenton went off on her, and apparently nearly began throwing hands with the manager."

"Oh man, poor Jazz," Sam said somberly. Danny couldn't agree more as he gave a low short whistle at the audacity. Between graduating early, grad school applications, and getting married, he had never seen Jazz look so stressed out. "Why don't you guys push the wedding back a bit?"

"She'll get more money from FASFA and scholarships, plus better housing, if we get married sooner, and she doesn't wanna just elope and have a party later," Spike shook his head a bit. "But uh, either way though, I got some numbing cream for ya Sam if you're worried about pain." Spike shot Danny a reassuring smile and a wink. He felt a little better. Sam sighed with relief.

"Please," she confessed. "It's not too bad when Danny's here, but if I'm alone I know I'm going to get a little anxious."

"Aw come on, I'm not reassuring?" Elliot teased. To Danny's relief, Sam also playfully slapped Elliot on his shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? You'd probably actually ruin my tattoo by making me laugh the entire time," she told him. Danny's heart squeezed again, and he got up to silently hand the receptionist the forms.

"I think I might get a tattoo," Paulina finally spoke up. Elliot's interest was immediately piqued.

"Oh?" he asked. Paulina nodded, pointing to a tattoo on the wall, a pretty collection of flowers.

"This is sooo pretty, I think I'd get something like this," she said. Sam glanced at it.

"That'd be like, what? Four hundred-ish dollars, Spike?" she guessed. Spike glanced at the reference photo and nodded.

"Yeah, give or take," he replied. Paulina made a face.

"Maybe one day in the future," she decided. "I need money for a prom dress." Sam waved a hand.

"Prom dresses are temporary, tattoos are forever!" she told her. Paulina made a noise of disinterest, and Sam shrugged.

"Danny, did you wanna go first?" the receptionist asked as she glanced at the three stacks of piercing requests.

Danny coughed a bit nervously. He glanced at Sam, and he nodded.

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"Thanks again, Spike!" Sam beamed. Spike smiled fondly at her, offering her a hug. She gladly accepted it.

"Anything for my favorite future sister-in-law," he teased. Sam's face instantly burned. Danny scoffed as he lightly touched his new piercing anxiously.

"Sam isn't related to us, dude," he told Spike. Spike gave him a weird look, then shook his head.

"You're lucky you know how to do math, man," he told him. "Also let me know if Mrs. Fenton kills you." Danny gave a nod.

"Don't worry, you'd be invited to the funeral," he joked. Spike chuckled. "Also I give you permission to tattoo my corpse before they put me down."

"Sick," Spike grinned. "I'll give you some of those lil blob ghosts the float around."

Elliot and Paulina were chatting a mile a minute outside the shop. When the not-lovebirds came out, Paulina immediately pushed her hair behind her ear to show off her new helix piercings. Danny could already see Elliot's singular orbital piercing.

"Look! I feel so punk!" Paulina gushed. Sam snorted in amusement.

"Girl, I'm gonna have to get you into a lot more black and leather before you're anywhere near punk," she teased. Paulina giggled.

"Maybe some leather pants," she mused. She shrugged. "Anywho! Elliot and I were gonna go look at the prom dresses! Wanna tag along?"

"Yeah, sounds fun!" Danny agreed.

"Yeah! I still need to get mine," Sam agreed. "I really want your opinion on a dress anyway," she said to Paulina. "Cause you know I'm going to customize mine no matter what I get."

"Yeah, I might ask you to do the same to mine, like help me tailor something if needed," Paulina mused. "I need my dress to be absolutely perfect. But we need to make another Starbucks run."

"Really?" Elliot raised an eyebrow at her. "Boo, this is your third trip today." Paulina pouted cutely at him. He playfully chuckled. "Alright, alright. I kinda want another iced coffee anyway."

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"So, has Elliot talked to you about it yet?" Paulina asked, taking a long sip of her drink as they waited near the door to the popular coffee chain. Danny made a confused "hm?" noise as he took a sip of his own. "That he wanted to ask Sam to prom?"

Danny's heart stopped, and he instantly returned his attention back to the pair of goths. They were customizing their Starbucks drink at the counter, smiling happily and chatting casually about something he couldn't heart.

God, of course! Fuck, he was so focused on every other dude that he forgot that Elliot wasn't gay. God damn it, and Sam would potentially actually say yes to him too.

"Uh. Um. I-uh." Danny coughed into his elbow as he tried to think of some way to respond that sounded normal. "No, he, um. Hasn't said anything to me yet." Nice response, Fenton.

"Oh, well, be prepared I guess," Paulina replied, taking a sip of her fancy-looking pink drink in the clear plastic cup.

Danny took a huge gulp of his coffee as he tried to process it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needed to think of how to reply to Elliot if the guy were to actually confront him or talk to him about it. His gut twisted. How was he supposed to reply? Elliot didn't deserve to go out with his Sam. What the fuck was that moron thinking? They were just friends.

"You guys ready?" Elliot glanced over his shoulder at them.

"Yup!" Paulina chirped. Elliot walked over with them, Sam quickly behind.

"You got your hourly Starbucks?" Elliot teased her.

"Mhm!" she hummed.

"You almost need to start working at Starbucks," Elliot told her.

"But then I'd just spend the whole paycheck on Starbucks," Paulina playfully protested.

"Fair, fair," Elliot hummed.

They exited, and they all piled into Elliot's car. Danny and Sam in the back, Paulina in her normal position in the passenger's seat.

"Do you know what kind of dress you're looking for?" Paulina asked as Elliot pulled out of the parking lot. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, definitely something black or purple," she said. "I'm really into long dresses lately, so probably a long dress, but I dunno! Short dresses are cute too."

"Oh short dresses are sooo in right now," Paulina agreed. "I want a short dress! Definitely pink, I want a really cute pastel pink maybe? But any shade of pink, I think it looks best on me."

"Hmm, yeah but greens look really good on you too," Elliot spoke up. "Like pastel and light greens?"

"They do but it's prom so I really want something pink," Paulina replied.

"Hmm, I think I look good in purple and black," Sam mused. "What do I look good in Danny?"

"Purple, black, red, and green, but like? An ecto green if that makes sense?" Danny said. Sam thought about it.

"Yeah, I really do like ecto green," she agreed. She shot him a sly smile. "Reminds me of Danny Phantom. And well. Ya know. I think he's really cute." Danny flushed, shyly smiling back.

"Ugh he's sooo cute," Paulina gushed. "His eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen. Elliot, why are your eyes so dark." Elliot chuckled.

"Cause both of my parents have dark green eyes," he replied. Paulina huffed.

"I think that was rude of you. You should have bright green eyes like the ghost boy," she said.

"Yeah, it's pretty rude," Elliot agreed. "I'll fix that tomorrow."

"Do you actually think Danny Phantom's cute?" Danny asked Sam. She smiled, giving a half-shrug.

"Absolutely one of the cutest guys I've ever seen," she confirmed.

Danny took a long drink of his coffee, hoping that chugging some of it would help explain why his cheeks were beginning to burn.

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"Oh, this is sooo your color!"

"Oh my god! I love it! Do they have it in my size?"

"Hmm, um, lemme see...yeah! They do! Here!"

"Ugh I cannot wait to try it on! Oh! Oh look! Look at these sleeves, it's like a princess dress! I'm going to grab one to try it on."

"Ooo, that's going to look so good on you. Hm, I think I might try on that one too, cause it comes in dark purple and those sleeves kinda look witchy...Danny what do you think?"

Danny snapped out of his zoning out to look at Sam. The goth was holding up a short dress with long, flowy sleeves. It was a mid-dark purple and plain, though he had no doubt that Sam would likely customize it to her liking. She did that a lot with clothes.

"Yeah, looks good," he said neutrally.

"Oh, that'll look so good with your bat heels!" Elliot pipped up. Danny nearly forgot that the dude was sitting with him on what was dubbed the boyfriend bench near the dressing rooms. "Especially if you wear a corset over the midsection. Like if you found a purple version of that red one you have, with the black lace over it."

"Oo, that would potentially look so cute," Sam mused. She put the dress over her arm on top of two others. "I'm gonna go try these on."

"Oh, I should too," Paulina mused. Unlike Sam, her arms were overflowing with four, five? Danny counted at least ten different potential dresses if he went by the different looking fabrics alone.

"Yeah, you need to narrow some down," Sam told her.

"They're all just so pretty!" Paulina complained. "I wanna wear them all!"

"Well, let's just eliminate some," she suggested.

The girls went off to the dressing room, and Danny leaned back against the boyfriend bench. He pulled his phone out, and he replied to a message from Tucker and another from his mom. Man, was he not ready to face her later.

"So, Sam huh."

Danny glanced at Elliot.

"Uh, yeah. She's great," Danny replied shortly.

"She is, she is," he agreed with a slight hum. Elliot shifted to rest his elbows on his knees. "Ya know I was thinking about asking her to prom." Danny felt a lump stick in his throat.

"Really?" was all he could think to reply.

"Yeah!" Elliot smiled. "I mean, yeah. I wasn't the best dudes four years ago, but I feel a lot better about myself, ya know? I think I finally know who I am now, and I still really like Sam. She's funny, smart, really pretty. Love hanging out with her. Kinda wondering if she feels the same, and if she'd be down to go with me. What do you think?"

Danny bit his tongue to avoid an unnecessarily harsh reply, but he did get anger. How dare he. After all the lies he told Sam, and the way he lied and manipulated her. Sam deserved better than that.

"I um. I don't think you should go for it," Danny said hesitantly. Elliot raised a curious eyebrow.

"Why, did she tell you something?" he asked. "Or did somebody else ask her?"

"Um. Well, not exactly," he hesitated. Danny bit his lower lip. "I mean, I know she likes you. As a friend!" he quickly added. "But uh, I dunno man. Just don't think it's a good idea."

"What do you mean, is somebody else going to ask her?" Elliot asked.

"Why does it matter?" Danny nearly snapped. "You asked me what I thought, and I said it."

Elliot snickered in amusement, rolling his eyes. It only served to irritate Danny even more. Foreign phony. God, why did they even hang out with Elliot? Paulina and Elliot made sense, cause they were both huge prep kids and did cheerleading and soccer respectively, making them both jocks. But why did he have to hang out with Elliot. Well, because Sam and Paulina were friends now, and that meant that Danny also had to be friends with Paulina's friends. Of fucking course.

"What's so funny?" he demanded to know.

"I think I get why," Elliot smirked.

"What do you mean?" Danny questioned. Elliot just shook his head. Danny opened his mouth to question again.

"Hey! Whatcha think?"

Danny shut his mouth as Paulina bounce out in her first dress option. It was a bright pink dress that came to her knees, the skirt incredibly puffy and reminding Danny of a ballerina tutu, with inch wide straps.

"Oh, it looks so good on you boo," Elliot cooed to her. Paulina beamed, twirreling. "But that may also just be you, you look fabulous in everything." Paulina put her hands over her chest.

"Thank you," she gushed. "Can you take my photo? I wanna compare all the dresses I wear."

"Of course," Elliot agreed, pulling his phone out. He snapped a photo of her.

"Oh Sam!" Paulina squealed.

Danny noticed the goth coming out in a fully black dress that also came only to her knees, with a much slimmer skirt and short sleeves. It looked fairly plain, but man. Sam still made it look great. Danny was glad he was sitting, because he knew he was weak kneed.

Sam was smiling brightly, giving Paulina a light wave.

"I take it you like it?" Sam questioned, doing a quick turn around.

"Girl you always look so good in black," Paulina praised.

"She's sooo right," Elliot agreed. "It just looks so good on you, no matter what. Just." Elliot made a chef kiss motion. Sam flushed a light pink, and Danny glared at him. Dude, shut up. "No wonder you're goth. You were just made for black."

"I dunno, I think you're exaggerating," she replied. Sam glanced down at her outfit. "I mean, it's fairly simple. What do you think, Danny?"

Danny swallowed hard.

"Oh uh, I think it looks great!" he said, smiling brightly. Sam returned it. "I mean like. It's kinda? Plain but I know you'd make it something great. You always do." Sam hummed.

"Mm yeah. It's pretty plain, but I dunno if I wanna put in the amount of work it'd take to make this dress really poppin'," she mused. "I'm gonna go try another one on."

The two girls went back to the dressing room, and Danny could hear their lighthearted conversation. Soon as they turned the corner, he spoke up.

"What do you mean?" Danny demanded to know. Elliot snorted.

"Bro, just admit that you like her, and that you don't want me to take her to prom," he said.

"Where on earth would you get that idea!?" Danny scowled. Elliot rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you've been crazy about her since like, what? Ninth grade at the earliest? Paulina says you two have been making googly eyes at each other since like third grade," he said. Danny felt his cheeks flush. It had not been since the third grade. Had it?

"It's not like that," he insisted. "I just, you know. Really love and worry about her, she's my best friend."

"Best friends don't get worked up like this, this much, over a mutual friend asking them out."

Danny just glared at Elliot before rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. He took a deep breath, exhaling hard.

"How's it look?" Sam's voice asked. Danny glanced up, and his heart just absolutely flipped.

She looked amazing. Beautiful. Stunning. Like a plant goddess, a model, an angel. He felt like there wasn't a flaw to be found, and he had never seen somebody look more enchanting. Her dress made her look even more divine, emphasising and showing off the best parts of her. The purple matching her eyes, the dress fitting her absolutely perfect as it flowed almost to the floor and the strapless feature making her hair flow smoothly over her shoulders. This dress was perfect for her.

But none of those descriptors came out. Instead all he could do is nervously swallow, tongue tied as he felt his cheeks burn up. He struggled to pick just one of those adjectives, and his brain settled for just saying nothing at all and simply staring at her instead.

"Oh, you just look so lovely!" Elliot spoke up. He stood up, going over to walk around her. "It fits you perfect, like it hugs your hips just right and really shows off your-"

"Pretty!" Danny suddenly half-yelled. The group looked at him oddly, and he felt his face flush harder. "It makes you look pretty!"

"Thank you," Sam replied, pausing a bit as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"...Uh, yeah. Um, yes!" Elliot clasped his hands together. "Just stunning. I love this purple on you, it's such a beautiful color. This dress specifically was made for you."

"Dude, chill," Danny grumbled. Sam gave him a Look, and he flinched.

"Danny, can I talk to you for a moment?" Sam asked through gritted teeth.

He had no opportunity to respond, as she grabbed his arm, painfully hard owwie, and began to drag him away, towards another boyfriend bench near a jewelry display counter and out of earshot.

"What's going on?" Sam demanded to know. She finally let go of his arm, and he huffed for a moment. Instead of responding, he put his hands behind his head, pacing back and forth. She quickly grew impatient. "Well? Say something!"

"Elliot wants to ask you to prom!" he blurted out, letting his hands fall. Sam blinked.

"He does?" she asked, sounding clearly surprised and...not angry. Sam smiled a little. "Really?"

"Oh don't tell me you're gonna actually take that foreign phony up on the offer!" Danny snapped. Sam instantly glared at him, crossing her arms.

"Elliot's our friend, dude," Sam reminded him. "Why do you care?"

"B-b-because!" Danny's arms were moving wildly as he talked. "He lied to you for months, and you're just going to ignore all that!"

"That was years ago, and he apologized," she said. "He's more than made up for it. And he's a super sweet guy. I like him."

"You like him!?" Danny nearly shouted. Sam slapped his upper shoulder with the back of her hand.

"Calm down and lower your voice," she told him. "And well, yeah. As a friend. Maybe I kinda like him more than that too."

"What the fuck, Sam!?" Danny, in fact, did not lower his voice. He dry-heaved for a few seconds, briefly making Sam start to watch him worriedly. Finally, he took a deep breath, and he returned to a normal inside voice. "What does he have that I don't?"

She went from worried to a blank stare.

"Apparently liking me enough to say or do something, especially when I've dropped so many hints or made moves myself," she replied. She brushed past him and left, returning to their friends.

Danny found himself taking a seat on the bench as he tried to collect his thoughts and the wide range of emotions that accompanied them. He put his head in his hands, rubbing his face. God he was so fucking stupid.

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"And it's just! Why him! Why Elliot?" Danny continued to vent after spilling the whole story. Jazz gave a small hum of acknowledgement as she finished writing another name out on the envelope. She set it aside for Danny. "I've liked Sam for so long, and I thought she liked me too."

"You're an idiot," Jazz immediately concluded. Danny glared at her as he folded another wedding invite, slipping it into an already addressed envelope before putting the sticker on the back to keep it sealed shut, and a stamp on the other side. Both were sitting on the floor of the apartment she shared with Spike, with each sibling on the opposite side of the coffee table, with Jazz resting her back against the couch and Danny sitting within reaching distance of their TV.

"Hey!" he protested. Jazz gave him a Look, grabbing another envelope.

"I mean it. She does like you, and she has for a while," she told him. She began to write out another address. "You just always never responded. You pushed her off in favor of another girl or because of some weird commitment issue that you seem to have going on. So be honest with me, and yourself. What's the problem?"

Danny silently folded two more invites, repeating the process of putting them in addressed envelopes and putting the sticker and stamp on.

"...I'm scared," he finally admitted.

"What of?" Jazz asked, not looking up from her activity. Danny had to really think. He casually tossed the finished wedding invite into the 'finished' basket.

"I guess just...it not working out. What if it doesn't work out? What if it drives us apart, and we lose each other?"

"You won't know that until you try," Jazz replied.

"She might also reject me, cause of the same mentality. What if she still likes Elliot more, and-"

"Danny," Jazz interrupted. She finally looked up from writing. "You will never know what the future will and won't hold. Just talk to her, and let her be part of the choice rather than blowing it all off due to fear."

He thought about it, and he gave a small sigh.

"Yeah...I think she's kinda pissed that I haven't been letting her be part of the choice anyway," he mused. He glanced at the pile of envelopes next to her. "How many invites do you have left?"

Jazz checked her list.

"Least a hundred more to go," she sighed.

"What the fuck, you have like no friends! Who are these people!?" Danny cried out. Jazz glared at him, reaching behind her to grab a pillow to hit him with.

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Knock knock knock.

Danny floated awkwardly outside of her window. She didn't answer, but he could tell that she was there. Her light was clearly on, and he could hear her music playing.

Knock knock knock.

"Sam?" he called out. "Sam, can we please talk?" He knocked some more.

The longest minute of his life passed before he heard the music turn off. The curtains opened, and Sam was on the other side, staring incredibly annoyed at him. She gestured for him to come inside, and he did. His feet landed on the floor, and she reshut the curtains.

"What do you want?" she snapped. Danny exhaled deeply.

"Sam…" He took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry about how I've been acting. I've just been…"

"Stupid?" she suggested.

"Yeah. But more importantly. I." He paused. "I've been honestly such a huge coward. Still kinda am, actually. Like…" He swallowed nervously, glancing at the ground. "I've been too afraid to bring it up or to really even talk to you about it."

Sam cocked her head to the side. She took a few steps back, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to it.

"Talk to me," she encouraged. Danny plopped down next to her, turning human as he did so.

"I want to be with you," he said bluntly. "But just...I get so caught up in all these what-ifs. What if it doesn't work out? What if you get tired of me? What if you eventually realize that it sucks being with somebody who has to cancel dates or who ditches you because I have to stop Skulker or Technus or Ember? What if you get hurt because of me? What if…" he trailed off, not even wanting to get into deeper thoughts.

"I wish you had told me this sooner," Sam spoke softly. "We could have talked about it." Danny sighed.

"I know, I know. I just." He rubbed the palms of his hands up and down his thighs as he tried to provide some kind of a rational answer. "I'm afraid. Even now. I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Sam reassured him. She put her hand on top of one of his, and he stopped. "You're one of my best friends, and I love you so much."

"...I love you too," he confessed. He turned his wrist, moving to intertwine their fingers together. "I can't imagine a future without you being there in some way. And I just...I guess I've always been worried about you not wanting to be there anymore."

"I'll always want to be there," she smiled. She leaned in, lightly pecking his cheek. He sighed deeply in relief. "Even if we tried, and we found that it didn't work, that doesn't mean we can't still be friends after. But we'll never really know unless...you know. We tried."

"So, I guess that means that um...you'd be interested in maybe going to prom with me?" he asked.

"Of course, ya dingus." She lightly tapped his new nose ring. "So. How much trouble are you in with your mom?" Danny flinched.

"Man, let's just say I'm surprised she didn't fully kill me."

[youllallriseintheink]

Sammy x Norman for 22?

22: “You’re burning up!”

The first thing Sammy saw when he walked into Joey Drew Studios that morning was Wally Franks doubled over in laughter.

“Sorry,” he said, realizing he was drawing a strange look, “but you’ll never guess what I just saw! I think your boyfriend came into work drunk this mornin’, cause’ he just walked right into a wall!”

Sammy rolled his eyes and kept walking. Wally claimed to have seen all kinds of things, and Sammy had no time for such tomfoolery. He had music to record.

Sammy typically stole a few glances at his boyfriend while setting up, and it usually brought a little joy to see Norman smiling down on him. Today, though, Sammy realized that Norman seemed pretty off- tired, weak, a little shaky. It was probably nothing, but Sammy went up to the projector booth and knocked on the door anyhow, just to be safe.

“Everything good in there? You seem sick.”

“Sure am. I never get sick, Sammy. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” His voice sounded weak. What’s more, it sounded like he was trying not to let it sound weak.

“Then let me in.”

“No, I don’t want you gettin’ sick.”

Sammy rolled his eyes. Sammy hated being patronized almost as much as Norman hated being the weaker man. Well, he wasn’t getting what he wanted this time.

Sammy shoved the door open. Up close it was even more obvious that Norman was unwell- his face was visibly flushed and there was a sheen of sweat on him despite the studio being comfortably cool. Sammy pressed his hand on Norman’s forehead. “You’re burning up. I’m taking you home. Come on.”

“You’re bein’ ridiculous,” Norman said, but when Sammy pulled him up and towards the stairs, he came up and towards the stairs. He could normally wrestle two of Sammy without much trouble, but at the moment he didn’t have the strength to put up even a token resistance. “Okay, fine. I’m sick.”

Sammy called a cab to his place and let Norman rest on his bed. “I was expectin’ to be dropped off at my place. Not that I’m complainin’. Thanks, Sam.”

Sammy took his boyfriend’s hand. “Yeah, I didn’t want to leave you alone all day while you’re like this. There’s soup in the cupboard, and I’ll be home as early as I can get off, okay? Call if you need anything.”

Norman nodded weakly, giving Sammy’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you. I love you, Sammy.”

“I love you, too, Norman. Now get some rest.” Sammy kissed him on the forehead.

“You do realize this is probably contagious, right?” Norman said. Sammy ignored him and was off.

Less than a week later, Norman was back to health and Sammy woke up fevered and sore. How Norman had even dragged himself to work like this (let alone thought it was a good idea) was beyond him. Thankfully it was early enough that Norman wouldn’t be at work yet, so Sammy called him up on the phone.

“Hey, guess what? You gave me your fever.”

“I’d say I told you so, but I have a feeling you’re already thinkin’ it,”

“Hey, at least I stopped you before you either passed out or infected half the music department.”

That made Norman laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the day off and be right over with soup and blankets.”

[apocalypseornaw]

Always be Yours-9

Word Count: 4,901

Story Summary: Follows Dean and the reader through season 9 into season 10

Chapter Summary: With no other choice Crowley is enlisted to free Sam of the angel's grasp

Warnings: cursing, fights, blood,death the usual

When Cas made it to the bunker you weren’t sure if Dean had even told him everything that had happened. When he walked into the library where you and Dean were currently gathering what weapons you’d need it confirmed he in fact had no idea what all had gone down when he asked “What happened?”

You stopped mid movement and cut your eyes at Dean who took a deep breath before saying “We need to catch you up on a lot Cas” you saw the look of confusion on Cas’ face so you motioned to the chairs “Let’s sit down” Cas took a seat so you sat next to him and Dean sat across the table. Dean’s eyes were cast downward and you could only imagine what he was saying to himself in that movement, the horror that was his own mind working against him half the time. You could only guess that little voice inside of his head telling him he wasn’t good enough. You hated that little voice and would give anything to make Dean never listen to it again.

“I made a mistake Cas” he started but you quickly cut in “We made the mistake Dean..We” Cas looked between the two of you so you elaborated “After the trials, when Sam collapsed Dean called me. By the time I got to their sides Sam was dying and Dean had already put a call out to any angel for help. I came in to Dean being attacked and the angel who introduced himself as Ezekiel intervening. He was hurt in the fall so he couldn’t heal Sam..Cas honey we had a lot of pissed off angels coming down on our asses looking for you so we had to make a quick decision. Let Sam die or let the angel in” 

“Whoever the angel was he..he hijacked Sam then he killed Kevin and took the angel tablet” you added not meeting Dean’s eyes. “Sammy was dying and he said it was the only way. I believed him and now Sam’s gone..Kevin’s” his voice trailed off at the end so you looked up towards Cas as he said “Dean I’m sorry” “Sorry doesn’t pay the bills, does it?” Dean replied and you let out a harsh breath as he pushed away from the table and stood turning his back to you and Cas before adding “It sure as hell ain’t gonna bring Kevin back..We got to find the son of a bitch”

Cas looked at you to ask “If the angel possessing Sam isn’t Ezekiel than who is it?” “A dead man walking” Dean replied, turning back around. “You’re gonna destroy him? You kill an angel it’s vessel dies too” Cas asked. Your entire body felt like it’d been dipped into ice. There had to be a different way. You couldn't kill the angel not while he was inside of Sam and you wouldn’t let anyone else. “There’s got to be a different way” you met Dean’s eyes as you said it. You refused to give up on him or Sam. It wasn’t in you.

He walked back over to the table and leaned down before saying “Sweetheart if we don’t end it and that halo burns him out..god damn I was so stupid” You looked to Cas silently begging him for help. He stood up as he said “You were stupid for the right reasons” “Yeah like that matters” Dean argued so you stood up next to Cas and said “It does” “Sometimes that’s all that matters” Cas added.

You nodded then said “Cas, Sam is strong if he knew somehow that an angel was possessing him he could fight couldn’t he?” “He could cast the angel out” he agreed. 

Dean shook his head at both of you “Maybe but he’s in the dark. How the hell would we clue him in?” You could see a thought occur to Cas before he asked Dean “Do you remember Alfie?”

You looked towards Dean as he said “The kid angel, yeah why?” “Before he died he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding. We might be able to do that here. Might be able to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam” “You think that would work?” you asked hopeful and Cas shrugged “I don’t know but I think we owe it to Sam to try, don't you?” 

At an actual plan being formed Dean nodded slowly “Well where do we start?” “Do you still have Crowley locked up here?” Cas questioned so you nodded “He’s in the armory locked up tight” “Then we should start there”

------

You watched Dean draw a syringe of blood out his own arm. Once he was through you held a rag out to wipe the blood away. “Thanks” you nodded checking to ensure it’d stopped bleeding. He laid his hand over yours when you started to pull away “I mean for a lot more than that”

You walked into the armory behind Cas after Dean turned the light on. Crowley blinked a time or two then smiled “Hello boys” when he spotted you he added “And hello sweets” Cas stepped back over to block you from his vision and you half smiled at the protectiveness. Dean pulled the syringe out his pocket “Ok, here’s the deal. You’re gonna tell us how to hack an angel and I’m gonna give you some of the good stuff. Human blood, fresh from the tap.Word is you’re jonesing for it” Crowley shook his head “Please. I’ll pass”

“What do you want then?” Cas asked. Crowley looked between the three of you then said “Well for starters a massage between the sitting and the shackles a body gets a little stiff” “Yeah I ain’t rubbing you and Y/N damn sure isn’t” Dean quickly shut him down but he replied “Didn’t want you or sweets. Get Kevin, his tiny fists can really work wonders” “Kevin’s dead” you bit out and actually saw Crowley’s face fall just slightly “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that”

Cas pushed you towards Dean before walking over to the table “Don’t pretend you care, you tried to kill him” Crowley was undeterred “I told him this was gonna happen. I was the only person who tried to warn him. I told him to run” “From what?” you asked  and Crowley cut his eyes at you “From your boyfriend sweets” You saw that haunted look pass through Dean’s eyes again as Crowley looked his way “How many times am I gonna have to say this? People in your general vicinity don’t have much in the way of a life-span” Cas threw a look your way and you knew he was thinking along the same lines as you were but there was no time for that now considering Crowley continued “Now I can’t teach you how to crack open an angel. It’s more art than science. But I can do it for you. All I ask in return is a little field trip, dying for some fresh air” then held up his hands and added “Chains on naturally”

“No,” Dean said, then turned to walk out grabbing your hand but stopped when Crowley said “No? Of course not because if I’m plan a I’m sure you have a totally viable much better plan b. That’s why your angel and your girl is still paying any attention to me” 

Dean stopped and motioned Cas over. You stepped to the side to let Cas get close enough to you both. “You can’t be considering this” he said but you knew Dean was. Hell you were if it got Sam back. “With the chains on he can’t do anything” Dean tried but Cas did have a point when he argued “It’s Crowley. He can always do something” “Looks like we need a tie breaker. Sweets you want to vote or you want to go grab moose” You shot a glare at him and he smiled “Unless of course you can’t. That explains why you’re all here and why you and squirrel are up for letting me out. The poor giant baby’s in trouble again isn’t he” You wanted nothing more than to knock that damn smirk off his face but you felt Cas grab your arm as if he knew so you remained in place while Dean walked towards Crowley “Are you done?”

“Depends, do we have a deal?” Crowley asked and Dean looked back to you and Cas. You sighed and nodded so he told Crowley yeah. “Excellent, when do we leave?” “Want to take the jeep?” you asked and he shook his head “I don’t want him in your jeep” Cas spoke up and said “I have a vehicle. It stopped a few miles from here inexplicably” Dean nodded “Ok” then looked at Crowley “We’ll be back to grab you”

------

A few questions about how the car was acting before it died confirmed it probably just ran out of gas so you grabbed the spare can from the garage while Dean grabbed Crowley and the bag of weapons.

You walked next to Cas because him and Dean had Crowley between them. You had silver bullets in your gun and an angel blade in your jacket along with all the supplies Dean had despite the fact that the four of you walking down the road was probably a little strange looking to any passerby you made it to the tan lincoln without issue.

Crowley looked at the car then back at Cas “Really? Are you a pimp?” you rolled your eyes at him “There’s nothing wrong with your car Cas” Cas smiled at you “Thank you Y/N. I like it” Dean walked to the open driver’s window and tried the ignition “Yeah it’s out of gas” he moved to put the gas in the car and you noticed Cas once again put himself between you and Crowley. “Riddle me this boy wonder why do you need the wheels?” Crowley asked looking around him at you as he spoke.

Cas took a half step towards him “When you betray us, I’ll be the one to carve your heart out” you felt your eyes widen at that. “Cas, what a flirt” Crowley smiled and you shook your head. Jesus angels and demons were so far from what you’d originally thought hunting was. Dean stood up after the car had gas in it “Alright, let’s go”

“Shotgun” Crowley called out but Dean pointed his finger at him “No, you’re in the back” You shrugged but Dean added “Cas, ride back there with him. I don’t want him that close to Y/N”

You watched the two of them climb in the backseat then cut your eyes at Dean before climbing in. “Watch the leg” Cas growled to which Crowley grumbled “You’re on my side!” “CHILDREN! COOL IT!” you hollered and they both stopped. Crowley grinned “Or what sweets?” you narrowed your eyes at him “I care about Cas but you? I’ll gladly stab you in the face” his grin only got bigger at that “I see just why squirrel likes you”

Dean glared at Crowley in the mirror then cranked the car up. When the music started you had the mental image of Cas listening to the station and it was amusing. You saw Dean cut his eyes at you and if it wasn’t for the angel and demon in the backseat you probably would’ve reached for his hand but instead you simply assured him “I’m good”

------

Crowley gave Dean the directions to Waldroff Financial. When he parked and all of you climbed out the car Cas quickly put himself between you and Crowley again. You followed the three of them across the parking lot and into the building. “Your source is here?” Dean asked Crowley who replied “And she can track anything, even our little lost Samantha” Dean pulled you over to sit next to him while the four of you waited. His hand came to rest on your knee which you’d found was more of a comfort thing to him than anything while Crowley explained that the building you were currently in was a front for an N.S.A. listening post. “What are the listening for?” Cas asked and Crowley shrugged “Everything, The U.S. government is quite the voyeur these days so I planted one of my best and let her go to work” 

A security guard walked over and addressed Crowley “Mr Crowley she’ll see you now” all of you stood but he shook his head “Just Mr Crowley” before Crowley walked off Cas reminded him “I’ll be listening to every word you say”

You sat back down to wait this time between Cas and Dean. A few minutes passed then Dean checked his watch and asked Cas “Hear anything?”  “No” Cas replied so you guessed “The room’s warded isn’t it?” he nodded. “Awesome, that’s frickin awesome” Dean grumbled, rubbing your knee slightly. You put your hand over his to stop any further movements and he glanced up at your face so you mouthed “Breathe baby” he nodded slowly turning his hand to lace his fingers with yours. You used your free hand to touch Cas’ arm “Just give him a few minutes. If he acts up I’ll hand you the blade to carve his heart out”

------

Twenty long minutes passed before Crowley walked back down the stairs. All of you stood to meet him and he held out a photo of baby from a traffic cam “Your phallus on wheels just ran a red light in Somerset Pennsylvania ten minutes ago”  “Let’s go” you urged and Crowley nodded towards you “What sweets said”

------

When you made it to Somerset Dean cut his eyes at you as he parked “If I asked you to stay here?” “I’d tell you to bite me and not mean it sexually” you replied and he sighed “Thought so”

You followed him and Cas down the road to where baby was parked and ran a hand along her side as you walked past her. You knew the drill, stay out the way mainly because they were worried this angel may pinpoint you as a bargaining chip not only for the two of them but for Sam as well.

You followed Dean into the door and nudged his arm then pointed to what was clearly blood. The two of you followed it into the living room to find a body with his throat slashed then heard water running from the kitchen. He reached one hand to be able to touch you as both of you followed the sound. 

The angel wearing Sam’s face stood at the sink with his back towards you washing his hands. He turned the water off before saying “Dean, you and Y/N should not have come here” then turned to face the two of you.  “You killed our friend then took Sam and you think I’m gonna let that stand?” “I allowed you to live, I allowed her to live” The angel replied motioning towards you Dean shrugged “Mistake letting me live” 

The angel flung you both backwards and you landed in a heap but as he walked towards the two of you Cas walked in behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, when he turned Cas hit him once and he went down. “Damn” you breathed as Dean helped you to your feet. You glanced down at Sam’s still then back to Dean “What now?” “We get him up and get somewhere to hack his ass” you picked up the discarded angel blades you and Dean dropped then looked from him to Cas “Well I’ll leave carrying the giant to the two of you”

------

You drove Cas’ car while Dean loaded the angel wearing Sam, Cas and Crowley into baby. You followed him a few miles out of town until he pulled off at a warehouse near the water so you parked behind him then climbed out and walked up beside the impala. Cas glanced your way when Crowley questioned “Why couldn’t I ride with sweets?” and said “Because Dean nor I want you alone with her” you shot Cas a small smile then watched as he helped Dean carry Sam’s still form inside.

You followed them inside and stood back while they went about chaining Sam’s form down to a chair. Cas reached a hand out so you gladly let him push you behind him. He had grace back flowing through him so even with clipped wings he was in a lot better shape than you were to face an angel.

Cas had already done an initial check of Sam’s injuries so when the angel started stirring Dean walked into his line of vision “Welcome to the party pal” then nodded to Cas “How we looking?” you glanced towards Cas for the answer and let out a relieved breath when the answer was “Most of Sam’s internal burns have healed. I should be able to fix the rest” he looked from Dean to you before addressing the angel in Sam “What’s your name? I thought I knew every angel in heaven, but I’ve never seen you”

The angel glared at the three of you and it made a shiver of horror run up your spine at just how little he sounded like Sam in that moment “Why would I tell you anything?” Dean took a step towards the angel as he said “Well I don’t give a damn who you are. You need to get out now!” “And if I don’t?” the angel challenged to which Crowley actually spoke up and said “Then you and I will have a lovely little playdate”

The angel set his eyes on you when he said “Even bound I can rip this body apart. Tell them Castiel.” “You do, you die” Dean growled but the angel was undeterred “You want this to end? Go ahead and put a blade through your brother’s heart” you felt your chest clench at that very thought and at the look on Dean’s face. You cared too much about both brothers to see that happen, if it came down to it you wouldn’t let Dean.

The angel looked up at Dean “If it makes you feel better, I have Sam locked away in a dream. As far as he knows you, him and Y/N are working a case right now. Something with ghouls and cheerleaders” Dean turned away from him and caught your eye for just a moment before asking him “Why are you doing this? We fought together and I trusted you. You saved Sam and Y/N. I thought you were one of the good guys!”  When that actually seemed to affect the angel that made you curious. It seemed to hurt him when Dean said he thought he was one of the good guys. “I am doing what I have to do” he argued so you shrugged “So are we” 

You nodded to Dean so he looked to Crowley who slowly stood up and grabbed one of the large needles that were laid out onto the table. “So am I” he repeated before digging the first needle into Sam’s skull. The scream the angel let out was pure pain. Cas turned his head away but Dean looked straight on, you knew he was punishing himself for the fact that he still blamed himself for what the angel did. You swallowed hard to keep the bile down that was threatening to come up your throat. Possessed or not that was your best friend in that chair and seeing Dean in pain on top of that? It was almost too much for you to bear.

------

By the time Crowley got the third needle in you couldn’t handle it anymore. You stood from where you’d been sitting “Dean, I’m sorry baby but I can’t” and quickly walked out the room they were in. You felt too hot, like your jacket was choking you despite the cool night. You couldn’t help none of them like this, damn you felt weak.

You sat there on the damp floor trying to catch your breath before you heard footsteps.You didn’t have to glance up to know it was Dean and Cas. You glanced up and Dean shook his head “I couldn’t do it anymore either” 

“It’s not Sam but it’s still Sam” Cas reasoned and you nodded from where you sat. You flinched every time the angel screamed. Cas held a hand out so you let him pull you up to your feet. You glanced at Dean then asked Cas “How are you doing?” 

Cas looked confused for a second as he looked between both of you “You want to talk about me? Now?” “I want to talk about anything that’s not a demon sticking needles into my brother’s brain and I know Y/N feels the same” when Dean’s voice cracked you reached for his arm and he pulled you into his side before he begged “Please humor us Cas, how ya doing?” 

“Um, I’m ok” Cas finally said so you pulled away from Dean and pulled him into a hug. He seemed shocked for a moment then hugged you back. When you pulled away you explained “That’s for not protecting you better when you were human. Cas you’re my family you mean just as much to me as they do”  “Yeah man I’m sorry for kicking you out of the bunker, for not telling you about Sam” Dean added.

Cas simply said “You thought his life was at stake” “Yeah I got played” Dean replied so Cas reminded him “I thought I was saving heaven, I got played too” Dean scoffed “So you’re saying we’re both dumbasses” “You both wanted to trust someone. Someone who portrayed themselves as something they weren’t. Not dumb or ass” you cut in and they both gave you a small smile before Crowley called out “Laverne! Shirley! Sweets! All three of you get in here!”

------

You followed Dean and Cas back into the room. What Crowley wanted to show was that he’d dug around enough to get the angel’s true identity. Gadreel. The angel who had let Lucifer into the garden and doomed all of mankind. 

Cas rightfully had some built up anger at Gadreel but Dean pulled him back and reminded him to chill. Cas shoved his hand off but let your hand remain. “I will for Sam” you nodded a thank you before pulling your hand away.

------

With no other option you stood next to Dean and watched as Crowley’s smoke form left his vessel and flowed into Sam. Cas couldn’t get in without permission so since Sam wouldn't be fast to trust Crowley Dean told him the go word which was poughkeepsie. It meant drop everything and run. It was a system they’d come up with in their early twenties and had worked thus far.

Your eyes were on Sam’s body imagining the fight going on inside his head. You felt Dean’s hand on your lower back and leaned into his touch for comfort. You didn’t want to give voice to the thought inside your head and a part of you was relieved when Cas was the one to say “If this doesn’t work” “It’ll work” Dean cut him off before leaving a light kiss on your temple then walked across the room.

You took a deep breath while you watched Sam’s face for any indication as to what was happening.

------

“Dean!” you called his name a half second before the blinding white light of Gadreel’s essence flowing out of Sam lit up the room. Cas moved to shield your eyes from the light so you turned into his arm. Crowley’s smoke formed followed, flowing back into his vessel. “Sam!” you called moving to help Dean unchain him while Cas worked the remove the needles left behind.

“Sam are you ok?” Cas asked and you could see the confusion on Sam’s face but a vehicle pulling up broke any sort of relief that moment gave. Cas walked over to a window then glanced back “It’s Abaddon!” “Go. The back door. I’ll handle this” Crowley told Dean with a nod.

“Thanks Boris. Don’t die” you muttered while Cas and Dean supported Sam between them. You got in front of them with an angel blade in hand as a precaution. 

------

All of you got far enough away that you could stop for Cas to heal the holes in Sam’s head left by the needles. You stood back watching with your stomach in knots. Would he hate Dean for it? Would he hate you?

After Cas had healed Sam Dean walked over to join the two of them. Cas took a few steps away but you stayed where you were, close enough to hear and intervene if need be but not interfere if unneeded.

“Ok, let me hear it” Dean stated. Sam shrugged “What do you want me to say? That I’m pissed?” Dean nodded so he admitted “Ok, I am. I’m pissed. You lied to me. You got Y/N to lie to me” “He didn’t get me to do anything Sam! I agreed to lie because we didn’t have a choice at the time” you cut in but Sam wouldn’t even look your way before scoffing softly “I was ready to die! “We weren’t ready to let you” you argued and there were tears in Sam’s eyes when he did look your way “So my brother and best friend tricked me into being possessed by some psycho angel?” “He saved your life” Dean spoke and Sam shook his head “I was willing to die..and now Kevin” he trailed off and you felt your heart twist.

“No. That is not on you. Kevin’s blood is on my hands” Dean argued and you started to open your mouth but he shook his head and added “That ain’t ever getting clean” god why did he always have to take the world on his shoulder. “It’s on neither of you! It’s on Gadreel! He killed Kevin!” you stated not backing down from either of them.

“I’m going after Gadreel alone” Dean said after a moment and Sam cut his eyes at you before asking “What does that mean?” Dean tilted his head “Sammy, Y/N...People who get close to me get killed or worse. I can’t lose either of you”

“Go. I’m not going to stop you” Sam told him and you swallowed your words to let the brothers have a moment. Dean stepped away from Sam but stopped when Sam said “But don’t go thinking that’s the problem cause it’s not” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean questioned but Sam wouldn’t elaborate “Just go!”

You’d never felt more torn than standing between the two of them, watching one walk away and one stand in place. “Sam” you started but he nodded once “Go with him. He needs you more than I do right now” “Do you hate me?” you whispered and he shook his head “Never” you stepped close enough to press a kiss to his cheek then hurried to catch up to Dean before he climbed into baby.

------

When you grabbed Dean’s arm he froze and looked down at your hand “Y/N what are you doing?” you met his eyes and said “Either I go with you now or I go home and get my jeep and track you. Sam has Cas to help him, I’m not leaving you alone not now anyways” you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and expected him to argue but he took a deep breath then said “I meant that I can’t lose you sweetheart if something happened to you because of me..” he trailed off but you didn’t need him to finish the thought to know what he meant. “Well then it’s a good thing I’ll be at your side. I know if I die next to you that you did everything you could to keep me alive”

“Get in then” he finally said so you looked back at Sam and Cas before walking around to climb into the passenger seat. You weren’t choosing him over Sam you were just making the choice that felt the most right at the moment and letting Dean drive away alone? You couldn’t do that.

Tags: @facadeformyrealblog @akshi8278

[fykimtaehyung]

V: “I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together”

During V’s photo shoot, he’s wearing a different expression in every photo on the monitor. They create a tension and an anticipation because we have no way of knowing what he might do even one second later. But the result is cool from start to finish. It’s V. How are you doing these days? It’s been a long time since you were able to see your fans. V: I’m not over-stressing about how I can’t meet the fans face to face right now. I just want to see them when it’s safe to meet. I think now, I can wait until then. As your song says, “Life Goes On.” You decided to keep going on with your life. V: We have to move on. We can’t feel defeated forever. I felt a lot better after making some songs. Other than working on “Dynamite,” you’ve spent very little time away from home. How do you pass the time when you’re by yourself? V: I really like just spacing out, so I’ll sit in my room doing nothing for hours. I could try putting on a movie, but then I couldn’t concentrate and would just zone out. When that happens, it’s kind of like I’m living without a thought or care in the world. Maybe I should make a song about all of this someday. Probably call it “Spaced.” (laughs) Anyway, these days I’m looking for ways to keep myself happy. Have you found anything? V: Well, I’m listening to LPs lately. It’s getting to be Christmas season and I love snow, so I bought two or three Christmas LPs to listen to. I’m also listening to old jazz songs by Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. Frank Sinatra is cool, like chilled wine; Sammy Davis Jr. is crazy talented. (laughs)

So that’s the type of performer you find cool. V: Those two were also a big inspiration to me while we were working on “Dynamite.” Sinatra has all this jazzy body language, but he also threw some disco in there. And I imagined how Sammy Davis Jr. might dance if there were a mic on stage and he had to dance around it. They were a lot of help when I was finding a way to be upbeat and cool at the same time in “Dynamite.” I guess making “Dynamite” must have been some consolation even when you couldn’t meet fans due to COVID-19. V: We couldn’t put on a concert and couldn’t see ARMY, so we were feeling more and more drained. It seemed like an endless battle. We really wanted to see ARMY feeling better, so we had to get back up on stage and make another album so that together we could beat this thing. I want to be the friend who’s always cheering ARMY on, but there aren’t many ways to make them feel better. How was the whole “Dynamite” experience? You made it to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 and also had a chance to perform in a variety of different styles. V: Shooting the Tiny Desk Concert was a very natural process, which was nice. But actually, with the situation being what it is, we couldn’t really feel much. The day the news came out was of course thrilling. It was great, actually, all of us calling each other and some of us laughing and others crying: “We haven’t gone down the wrong path after all! Turns out we had a chance—it really was possible!”

While you were performing in “Dynamite,” you were also the visual director for BE. I’m sure you were unimaginably busy taking photos, but were you able to communicate well with the other members? V: We communicated smoothly, and I listened to all of their concept ideas and I organized everything around that. If we tried something too natural, it wouldn’t be conceptual enough, so we did our best to strike a balance. You had everyone sitting in the middle, with the set arranged symmetrically around you. V: That was made possible thanks to everyone having their own ideas. There was no overlap between items, which actually allowed us to create a sense of unity by placing all these different props symmetrically. It wasn’t intended to be symmetrical; each member really did choose something unique. In your room, you included a violin and a photograph. V: That’s a picture I took. I like photos and drawings, but if I had used any art then I would’ve been using that one particular artist’s work, so I thought I’d better use one of my own photos. I ended up choosing the violin because I learned how to play it but also because I enjoy classical and jazz.

So how do you feel it turned out? V: I made it, so naturally I like it. (laughs) Part of me thinks I should’ve tried something more conceptual. BE was supposed to give off sort of a magazine or poster feel since we didn’t shoot many of those, but it ended up having more of a natural feel to it. But I did think that the next time we try to make a photoshoot conceptual we should move away from that natural look a bit. The group explained their ideas clearly and they were simple enough to do, so I think it all went really smoothly. It sounds like there were no problems choosing the songs for BE. How did you feel recording your parts on the other members’ songs? V: I like “Dis-ease,” which Hobi wrote, but stylistically it was challenging. It’s really far from my own style so it took a long time to get used to. “Fly to My Room” used to be my favorite song, but it was also the hardest to sing. It was okay at first, until Jimin jumped in. What about Jimin? V: Because I had to keep up with Jimin, the song went up maybe three keys. I thought I would die. (laughs) It started out as my favorite song, but it was just way too hard to sing. But why did you have to sing that way? V: Jimin said he was sorry, that he couldn’t go any lower. (laughs) When I first heard the demo version, the key was perfect for me, so I thought it would sound great and I should definitely do it. But then Jimin said he wanted to do it too, so I said, “Great, let���s do it together.” Turns out we went up three keys. So I said, “Hey, what’s the deal? Should I just give up?” But, well, somehow it all worked out in the end. It was a happy ending. (laughs)

People might be able to hear that part better because it’s so much higher. (laughs) The tone of your combined voices and the way they contrast is really impressive. V: Yes, but all that aside, it was quite the struggle. (laughs) And the chorus is really long. I think it repeats, what, four times? Yes, it feels like the chorus never ends. The production style is very unique. I like how the emotion is carried through the whole way. V: I agree, but it’s so long. The chorus turned out crazy, like I was kind of beating the melody into people’s ears. (laughs) The chorus is good, but the whole song’s melody is really catchy. Whenever I heard the beat, I was totally into it. The way the vocals pick up on the beat and the melody was so original and fun, I just had to do it.