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#anyways the main point is how they had dean say ‘we were worried’ when for multiple episodes they showed dean worrying about cas.
sunglassesmish · 4 months
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insane dialogue for an insane scene
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chrrispine · 3 years
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b&a creator week day 4 - baby!jack
Baby!Jack and the Trip to Target | wc: 775
"Bye bye, crib," Jack says, waving to his old bed as Dean and Cas haul it out of his room.
Dean huffs as he tries to keep pace with his husband, who is way stronger than he looks. "I was worried the kid was going to stay in this thing until he was 6ft tall."
"The parenting books say that it could take up to three and a half years for the transition, so at just three, Jack is actually not the latest," Cas replies, setting down the crib in their basement.
Dean wipes his hands on his jeans and frowns. "I guess I don't have a good base for all of this anyway since Sammy was sleeping on motel beds before his first birthday."
"Hey, we're both learning along the way here. And in our defense, Jack isn't exactly your average toddler," Cas says as he head back upstairs.
Jack is playing with his dolls on the kitchen floor when they come back to the main floor. Dean crouches down to Jack's level and ruffles his hair. "Well, kid, since you're getting a new bed, we thought you could also get some new things for your room. How does that sound?"
"Yay! Shopping!" Jack yells as he tosses his dolls and rushes to put his shoes on. Jack had gotten used to regular shopping trips with Cas, which usually ended with way too many bags of items Jack pointed to in the store that Cas was too weak to say no to. It was fun for the kid, not as much fun for the wallet.
“I'll drive us to Target,” Cas says grabbing the keys by the door.
Dean puts his hands up to pause. “Hold up - Target? That place is dangerous. Every time you go there you end up with a million bags and a five-foot-long receipt!”
“Well, it’s the only place around where we’ll get everything we need for his room,” Cas calls out, already heading out the door to meet Jack in the car.
“Fine. But I’m going to keep you two in check. We're not going to just get him everything he wants like you usually do," Dean says pointedly while chasing after Cas.
Before he gets into the car, Cas smiles and shakes his head. "Good luck, Dean, you'll see how hard it is to say no to him."
---
"The kid's sneaking things into the cart!"
"No, Dean, he's just picking out what he likes," Cas explains, as he tries to keep up with Jack speedwalking through the aisles.
"Did you see him put this in?" Dean questions, waving a stuffed bee, as Cas just shrugs. He was used to this happening and was very amused at Dean experiencing it all firsthand.
Dean wheels the cart in front of Jack, still holding the bee. “Hey Jack, who’s this and how did he get in here?”
“That’s my friend, Bumble! He flew in!” Jack replies as he skips down the aisle, humming to himself.
Dean sighs and puts the plush back in the cart and Cas laughs. "You're enjoying this way too much," he accuses, rolling his eyes.
After several many instances of "daddy can I get this?", their first cart was full and they were on to a second. Cas was right, it was impossible for Dean to say no to Jack's pleading eyes as he held up yet another Baby Yoda pillow.
Right before they're ready to check out, Jack stops in the middle of the store and points at a giant bean bag chair on display. “Yellow!” he yells while running over. He belly flops onto it, hugging the chair with his tiny arms.
Dean jogs over bends down next to the chair. “Buddy, do you want the chair just because it’s yellow?”
“No! It’s sooo comfy too!” Jack responds muffled by his face-down position.
Dean picks up the chair, kid and all, and adds it to their second cart.
---
"That kid can really do some damage," Dean says taking a swig of beer while reviewing the receipt.
Cas nods in agreement with a proud smile. “Think Jack is decorating already?”
“Let’s go check,” Dean replies as he grabs Cas’s hand and leads him down the hall.
The two of them laugh at the sight in front of them. There was Jack in the middle of his undecorated room, asleep on his yellow beanbag chair and clutching his new bee friend. Target bags full of decorations surround him, untouched.
Dean turns to smirk at Cas. “He’s a good little shopper isn’t he?”
“He learns from the best,” Cas answers with a wink, giving Dean a kiss.
(tag list under the cut)
tag list: @casbelieves @fivefeetfangirl @smolrowena @chocolatecakecas @starrynightdeancas @acklesology @shelikestv @sinnabonka @dea-stiel @cvsnovak @doc-cas-holligay @jellydeans @evermorecastiel @plantdadcas @manifestingdestiel @achillestiel @sam-fuckin-winchester @agentplant @ialwaysordericedcoffee @deanwinvhester @winterfrosted @queentrxyler @halaenoor @winchester-novak @btab66 @maxguevra @wormstacheangel @moosetex @nguyenxtrang @edward-thorn-blog-blog @feraladoration @deductthenseduct @gardenforcas @chaoticwistfulness @squintingg @poughkeepsiedeans @charlies-secret-closet @archervale @llamasdumpsterfire @deans-honeybee @lovelazarus @transdraco @swineaids @becauseofthebowties @thiscastielhasflown @nightingalestakeflight @ideducedestiel
Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the list.
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Painted - Chapter One
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“Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.” - Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Y/N has moved on, her scars are barely noticeable anymore, and she’s finally stable. Or at least she was.
10 years after the worst day of her life, Y/N found herself staring face to face with an unimaginable horror. In the wake of her worst nightmare come to life, she finds herself reunited with the man that saved her all those years ago - Agent Dean Winchester who had left her a decade before broken and wanting.
Dean Winchester has spent the last 10 years trying desperately to forget Y/N and the tragedy that he pulled her out of, but when she called asking for his help he dropped everything to come to her aid as he knew he always would.
Can Y/N and Dean solve the mystery that has resurfaced after all this time? Will they be able to resist the pull between them? Or will this be the final brush strokes on a canvas, sealing their fate for good?
No Beta currently, all mistakes are my own!
Pairing: Dean/Reader
Tags: Dark!Fic, Agent!Dean, Serial Killer Fic, Smut etc.
Chapter One
Everything has a color. To Y/N, violence was red. She pulled back her arm, her fist colliding with the heft of her punching bag with a soft thud . One, two, kick. She liked training alone, it centered her, cleared her mind. She didn’t have to worry about pulling her punches, avoiding the knees when she kicked. The biggest danger was the skin on her knuckles, which were expertly wrapped.
It all started as self defense, a way to ease her mind as she walked back to her Jeep on the dark nights, but it had evolved to something else altogether. She didn’t fight because she was afraid, she fought because she was pissed . She was pissed that she had to learn to defend herself; that other women did. She taught classes so that her community would be safe, so that they’d find less women abandoned in ditches beaten to death.
But when she was alone, it was something else completely. The why of the thing was a mystery most of the time, even to her. People used to ask her if she was afraid she would see him again. She wasn't, not really. But she kept fighting anyway, and she would be lying if his face wasn’t the one she pictured every time her fist collided with the bag.
The beat of her music throbbed in her ears like an angry heartbeat as she went for an uppercut that rattled the bag. She was panting, sweat rolling down her temple. Each hit was a beat of her heart, causing the bag to come alive. With each swing she made, it swung back at her. She was strong, and she wasn’t holding back. One, two, kick.
Her watch chimed to alert her that she hit her workout goal for the day, but she had more fire within her that needed to be extinguished. It was a long workout, even for her, but she had a lot on her mind. If she was thinking about the ache of her knuckles and burning in her biceps, she was less likely to obsess over the things she couldn’t control. So she hit the bag again and again.
The sun was starting to speckle through the blinds on the storefront window, making the sweat on her arms glisten like diamonds. She considered, just for a moment, how the coast would look against the purples and oranges of the sunrise. She could have a coffee and just enjoy the silence. Or she could keep fighting. That answer was easy. She didn’t have time to appreciate the beauty in life. She hadn’t for a long time. All of the colors had lost their brightness, the depth that he used to talk about so frequently. The thing that kept him mixing until it was just right.
She hadn’t thought of him in so long, so when the thought came to her, she didn’t react fast enough to the bag swinging back toward her from her last hit. It collided directly with her face, sending her backwards onto the mat. A loud, painful crack echoed through her skull as her nose collided with the bag. She laid there for a moment, groaning. She tried to sit up, her nose throbbing and her mouth filling with blood from the hit. “Fuck me,” she whispered to no one in particular.
Trauma was black. According to her therapist, there were different types of trauma. Y/N learned that they all could be sorted into one of three main categories: acute trauma that results from a single incident, chronic trauma that is repeated and prolonged such as domestic violence or abuse, and complex trauma which is exposure to varied and multiple traumatic events, often of an invasive, interpersonal nature. More so, there was capital T trauma and what she called little t trauma . Capital T was the big stuff, the stuff that wrecks a person in an irreparable way. Little t was less so. It is possible for a traumatized person to get over a little t trauma.
In Y/N’s life she’d seen her fair share of trauma. Probably more than a thirty-three year old woman should’ve. She’d seen trauma happen to others, happen to herself, and continue to happen in case after case that she worked. She saw trauma that others didn’t. The kind of trauma that couldn’t be seen from the outside. The kind of trauma that a person inflicts upon themselves.
She was always told that trauma healed over time, like a bruise, but for her, trauma was a cut that kept reopening. It was a scab that she couldn’t stop picking at, a bruise that seemed to deepen to a darker purple before it ever yellowed. Her eyes stung from the hit, and she wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
The only way she knew how to heal was to move on, leave the trauma behind. Her therapist told her to imagine herself placing the memories in a box and locking them away. Sometimes, when she was alone, she could hear that box screaming, banging, and begging to be opened. She resisted the urge, especially today.
She forced herself to stand, her head spinning. She leaned against the wall to regain her balance before she walked out to her car, her head tilted back. She could feel the blood roll down the back of her throat since it was unable to escape her nostril. She’d be pissed if she broke her nose, but, from what she could tell, it seemed intact even though it hurt like a bitch.
Her headphones were askew, but still playing her workout mix. She adjusted them and spit some blood from her mouth. She wouldn’t be thwarted by a fall; no, she wouldn’t be taken down so easily. If she fell in the gym and no one was there to witness her humiliation, did she even fall? The answer to that depended on if anyone would notice her bruised nose after the fact. If they didn’t, as far as she was concerned, she had a perfect refreshing work out with no issues whatsoever. Maybe with enough makeup her secret would remain her own.
10 years earlier
The sound of his paintbrush swiping delicately against canvas was soothing to Y/N. She sat on the edge of the bed, atop black satin sheets, resting on her hands, her back arched and her legs spread just right. Her long strawberry hair fell down her shoulders in loose waves onto the sheets.
“Just like that,” Lucifer murmured, a blonde wave falling into his eye. He was focused, his tongue partially out of his mouth, his eyebrows knitted together. She wasn’t able to see the painting from her vantage point, but she knew what it was. It was always the same. I just can’t get you right, he’d complain, his voice laced with pain and disdain. She thought he made her more beautiful than she ever could be on her own.
When she’d met him, he was so focused on his art. He would eat, sleep, and drink his paintings. His clothing was speckled with oil colors, his fingers calloused from gripping paint brushes for hours on end. She found him sexy and mysterious. She was dying to know the man behind such beautiful pieces of art.
It didn’t take long for his obsession to shift from his art directly to her. He doted on her endlessly, showering her in flowers, candy, candlelight dinners. They made love constantly. He couldn’t get enough of her.
“Let me paint you, Y/N,” he’d purr between her legs. “I just want to paint you.” It took her weeks to say yes. She’d always brush him off, blushing and insecure. “You’re exquisite. Please let me paint you.”
She struggled to deny Lucifer’s requests when he asked as his breath tickled the inside of her thigh. It was hard to deny him of anything , if she was being honest. The first time she said yes, he arrived in her bedroom and asked her to drop the floral robe she was wearing. He’d seen her naked dozens of times, but she was still nervous, vulnerable, staring at him. She brought him a bag, insisting that he look inside before she disrobed.
He stared at the bag, confused.
“They’re body paints,” she explained. “I thought you wanted to paint me.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. They made love on the apartment floor, painting designs on each other's skin until she was swollen and wanting, gasping his name into the night.
When she woke up in the early hours of the morning, she found him painting her image onto a canvas laying splayed out, covered in swirls of sex and paint. “Don’t move,” he instructed calmly. She wanted to be angry, but she still felt drunk from being ravished, and his eyes examining her were sensual and slow. She watched his wrist spin and curl, and a chill ran up her spine.
“Lucifer, how much longer? ”
“You’re just so beautiful, Y/N. You know that, right?”
“No,” she murmured, and his eyebrows knitted together.
“We will fix that,” he promised. “You will always be this beautiful.” He was talking to her, she logically knew that, but from her vantage point she could’ve sworn he was speaking to the canvas.
Present
Y/N entered the code to unlock the front gate to her property, leaning half out her car window. Thankfully, her bleeding had stopped, but her upper lip and chin were still crusty with blood. She looked like a mess, if she was being honest, but the only one there to judge her was her chocolate brown pit bull, Castiel, and Y/N figured that Cas wouldn’t care much either way.
The iron gate opened with a groan, sliding to her right. She slid back into her seat and shifted out of park to pull forward down the driveway toward her house. It was modest, nothing too big or magnificent. The outside was grey brick, a two story home with a large green yard and a pool in the back. As she pulled up, she could already see Castiel’s nose pressed against the window, her head through the thick curtains. Y/N smiled, her heart warming at the sight. She wiggled her fingers at Castiel in a small wave.
Castiel greeted her at the door, his tail wagging excitedly. She knelt down to pet his chin only to be met with deep blue eyes and a pink tongue. “I know, buddy. I need to shower somethin’ fierce.”
She kissed his nose and murmured. “I’m good. We’re good.” Half the time she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. She locked the front door behind her and kicked off her shoes. Her arms ached and her heartbeat was still residing in her sinus from her fall. She let her hair out of the tie that kept it up in a high ponytail, letting it fall down her back. Her head was sore from her hair being up for hours. She massaged her scalp with a wince. Everything hurt and she couldn’t wait to wash her problems down the drain and start fresh.
Her work out clothes were discarded on the bathroom floor, the sound of running water and the steam accumulating in the air were already starting to soothe her. She took a deep breath in through her nose with a wince before stepping into the shower and closing the curtain behind her.
Y/N faced the water, letting the heat roll down her skin. The water ran brown from sweat and blood. She braced her hands on the walls of the shower to keep herself steady. She closed her eyes, letting the baptism wash her worries away. Time has a way of wrecking a person, she knew that much. It gave a false sense of security, a sense of growth and change. She spent so much time trying to put her past behind her, locked away inside of a box.
She opened her eyes and looked at the half sleeves covering her wrists and forearms. The flowers and vines twisting around her arms, climbing, and growing out of thick, pink scars - creating something beautiful out of tragedy. She had hoped, when she got them, that they would help her heal and forget. She could laugh now at that naive girl who thought anything would let her forget. Time heals wounds, yes, but the greatest ones still ached in the cold and the rain.
Suds from soap and shampoo swirled down the drain, and she reached down to turn off the water. She wrapped her hair in a towel and slipped into her robe. She could hear Castiel whine outside of the bathroom door, unusually unhappy with not being able to see her. “You’re good, Cas,” she called out, wiping the fog from the mirror. She examined her nose. It was a little swollen and already beginning to bruise. She cursed to herself and just hoped that it’d be dull enough that her painted foundation would cover it. The last thing she needed was to worry those around her.
Castiel scratched at the door again, and she opened it, her dog circling her legs impatiently. “What is your deal?” Y/N reached down and scratched behind her ear, eliciting licks from Castiel.
Towel drying her hair, she stepped out of the bathroom and rounded the corner. Her eyes were heavy, and her head pounded from the hit. She needed coffee, bad . As she turned the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks, her towel falling from her hand. Castiel whined insistently, nudging Y/N’s leg with his nose. She stared face to face with something so familiar that it made her gut tighten, acid crawling up her throat.
A painting hung at her eye level in the hallway near the bathroom. Fine brush strokes of pale peach skin, strawberry twists of hair splayed out on black satin sheets, flushed cheeks, parted lips, and freckled legs spread out, exposing a delicate pink vagina tucked between them.
Y/N stared at herself. Her eyes closed, her swollen mouth, her pink cheeks on a face and head that belonged to her. Her freckled neck blended downwards onto heavy breasts with dark nipples and a mole under the right that she’d never seen before.
Her knees were weak, and she stumbled back, bumping into Castiel and tumbling backwards. She fell, hitting her tailbone on the wood floors with a hard smack . Tears burned in her eyes, from pain or fear she wasn’t sure. Castiel came to her, licking her cheek in concern.
Anxiety crept into her chest, pressing down heavily. She gasped for breath and clamped her eyes shut. She pictured the box inside of her mind, thrashing and pulsing with anger, begging to be opened. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she forced herself to stand on shaking legs. She made her way to her bedroom and quickly spun the code on her safe, pulling her gun from it. She clicked the safety off and held it in front of her.
With each room that she checked she only found an emptiness that overtook her home with a heaviness that seemed to engulf her completely. Nothing seemed strange or out of place other than the large depiction of her naked body that hung on her wall.
She kept her gun positioned outward and pulled out her cellphone, dialing the number that she could never forget. All she could hope for was an answer, and as a ring met her ear she let out a sigh of relief. It had been so long, she had expected a disconnected tone. She pressed the phone closer to her ear as she heard his voice.
“Y/N?”
“He’s back.”
------
Chapter Two
Read on A03 Here
Tag List: @lyarr24
@dean-winchesters-bacon
@waywardbaby @akshi8278
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You’re It
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[gif credit to @ehghtyseven​]
Square: Mechanic!AU ( @supernatural-jackles​ tell me a story bingo)
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: Her life is falling apart around her. So she heads to her hometown to start fresh. But is she ready to take on what awaits her in Lawrence Kansas.
Warnings: Angst, abusive relationships, domestic assault, break ups, Lisa being a bitch, Death of a character, tears, strong language, smut ( 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it up boys), p in v, pwp (I think anyway)) things moving unrealistically fast but it’s a fiction so, screw realism.
Word Count: 5,400 ish
Bingo Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Mobile Masterlist
A/N: This is a long one, I hope you enjoy it. :3
~
Tears streaming down her face as she drove down the long dark road on the rainy night.
All her belongings in the backseat and trunk of her car.
How she gave him so many chances was beyond her, but he is all out of chances. Out of chances to hurt her again.
An innocent dinner, and one accident brought out the beast in her, now ex-boyfriend.
She’s sure she’s still sporting the red hand mark on her face, a black eye and even a bruise on her shoulder.
But she was heading back to where it all started, her hometown of Lawrence Kansas.
She just reached the outskirts of the city when her car started to act up on her, making a scary noise that sounded expensive.
She saw a sign that caught her eye, made her think of her high school days.
Winchester Garage and Scrap.
Winchester. She knew a Dean Winchester. He was a grade higher than her; she was a junior and he was a senior when they met.
He was always so sweet to her. She even fell for Dean at one point, but it all shattered when she saw him kiss another girl at their prom. Ran home in tears.
She had no choice, her car was about to either die or explode, she had to pull in towards the parking lot.
She saw him.
He hasn’t changed at all, like he doesn’t age.
He came running out, signaling to her to shut her car off. She does as told without hesitation. The sound was scaring her this point.
Clearing her eyes of any tears, dry her face as she got out.
“That don’t sound good, lets get it looked at…” He says. “Wait, do I know you from somewhere?”
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,”
“Your junior prom and my senior prom, damn it’s been a while.” She could tell he’s just making small talk, ignoring the elephant between them.
She nods in agreement.
“You okay? Did…did someone hit you?” he saw it. She knew he saw it. Either the slap mark or the black eye. Either way, he saw it.
“It doesn’t matter Dean; can you please fix my car and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Doesn’t matter? Someone hurt you Y/N. Come inside, I still have hot coffee going, lets get you out of this rain.”
She nodded following him inside.
 In the waiting room she heard Dean typing away getting her car checked into his system, getting her paperwork started for her, leaving a few other spaces for her to fill in but other than that, he helped her get the ball rolling.
Walking back in the waiting room he saw how small she was making herself become in the room. Something big happened to her, and she wasn’t up for sharing it with him.
He walked up to her, seeing her look up at him with her big eyes, almost puppy like. He handed her the clipboard.
“I filled out what I could for you, I just need your personal info, address, phone number, that sort of thing.”
“Okay.” She says, setting down the coffee and taking the clipboard and pen.
He only saw her write down her phone number.
“You don’t live in town anymore?” he asked curiously.
“No I didn’t, but I’m moving back now.”
“Look, I know something big and bad went down between you and someone. I just…it pisses me off that someone hurt you.”
“You still care about me, why is that?”
“You were my girl; I still consider you my girl. I don’t know what I did that pissed you off, you never wanted to hear from my side.”
“You were kissing another girl on prom night, I saw you.”
“A girl, oh, you mean Abaddon, she’s had a huge crush on me and forced herself on me.”
Her heart was pounding hard against her.
“She…did she did more?”
“No, I pushed her off. And I went to look for you, and when I couldn’t find you, I knew what her plan was.”
“She did that on purpose, in hopes I’d see it and break up with you. So you’d be up for grabs for her…that bitch!”
“Y/N, that was almost ten years ago now, she married Michael, and they been married for about three years now…let it go.”
She hid her face in embarrassment, forcing the tears back.
“I was with Lucifer,”
“Michael’s brother, why he’s such a dick?”
“He comforted me after what I saw. And after I graduated, I followed him to LA. We tried to be together but he just…kept hurting me.”
She saw his jaw clench tight. A vein popping from the side of his neck. He was pissed, beyond pissed if there ever was such thing.
“First was he hit me when I didn’t want to have sex with him, I told him it was too fast. He broke my nose in the process. I left him for a few days, and he came crawling back, apologizing. I gave him a second chance. Second, he hits me when I was trying to talk to him…about something, I don’t remember. I woke up in the hospital with a concussion. The story was I fell down the stairs. He apologizes to me and I told him he has one last chance…”
“Y/N, why were you giving him so many chances?”
“I thought he loved me. But after tonight, I guess he never really loved me.”
“Does he know where you went?”
“I never told him, he stormed out of the house to a bar most likely. I packed up everything and just left. I may have sped rather…fast, I just wanted to get away from him.”
“Well, you’re safe here sweetheart.”
Her lips twitched upward in a small smile.
“What about you Dean? Did you find someone?”
“Not really, nothing but break ups. Lisa and I had a bad break up just recently. Told me how weak I was for not trying.”
“What, trying what?”
“Just being with her. I was always at work, away at college, going to classes. Working my old job with my Uncle, and then opening this bad boy. She thought I wasn’t trying. But really I was making this all for her, and the family she wanted. But I guess that wasn’t good enough for her.”
“No Dean, she wasn’t good enough. She was being a bitch.” She encourages.
“I guess, but now I’m just wanting to be single for a bit. Maybe the right girl will show up.” he smirks.
“Dean…we both have been hurt, let’s just go slow. Lets try to be friends again first.”
“I can live with that.” He says. “Lets get your car in here.”
He managed to push her car in, having her steer it in the garage.
“I’ll work on it first thing in the morning.” He mentions. “Now, since you just got into town, you probably don’t have a place to stay, do you?”
“Well, my dad is still here. I’m gonna stay with him.”
“Didn’t you hear what happened though?”
“I know, he’s been down hill since mom died from Cancer. He practically gave up. I hope I can help lift his spirits now that I’m home.”
“Well that, but there’s something else. Yesterday, did he tell you?”
She shook her head.
“He was diagnosed with prostate cancer. It had already spread, it’s too advanced for treatment. My dad told me.”
Her heart sank. “He didn’t mention that to me. But he did sound different when I spoke to him.”
“Do you want me to go with you? Get you settled in?”
“Please.” Her eyes glistened with more tears. “I don’t want to go alone; I don’t know what I’m in for when I see him.”
“It’s okay sweetheart, let’s get your things in my truck and we’ll get going.”
“Do you still have her? The impala?”
“I do, she’s tucked away at my house in the garage. I take her out once in a while. Maybe tomorrow I can give you a ride in her. Take your mind off things.”
“I’d love that Dean, thank you.”
Giving her a kind smile, he began moving her things from her car to his truck. Pulling the tarp cover over the bed to protect whatever he got in the bed of the truck.
 Driving through the streets of Lawrence she looked out her window, seeing all that has changed.
“So, what do you do since High school?”
“I’m a writer.”
“Oh nice, got any books out yet?”
“I have a few out there. All romantics.”
“Working on anything new?”
“No, been kind of in a rough spot lately.”
“Oh, with…I gotchyou now. Well, don’t worry, I’m sure once things calm down it’ll come to you.”
“I hope so.”
He pulled down the familiar street. The same street she grew up on. Pulling into the familiar driveway seeing the familiar family house.
“He’s still here, after all these years.”
“Yeah, my guess is he misses your mom, you, your brothers.”
She nods, getting out.
She walks up the path to the front door, Dean behind her carrying some of her bags.
She see’s one of her brothers stepping out of the house.
“Hey shortie.”
“Hey big bro.” she says. Getting a big hug from him.
“You want us to hunt this fucker down?”
“No, he’s not worth it.” she says pulling away.
“Hey Dean,”
“What’s up Peirce.”
“Nothing new. Oh, Becky and I are expecting, she wants to invite you to the baby shower.”
“That soon?” Y/N asks.
“You remember Becky?”
“Oh that Becky, okay, I get why she’s doing it this early.” She giggles. “She should wait, what if it’s a girl and you got all boy stuff? Or a boy and all girl stuff?”
“I don’t know, I’m sure she has a plan for it.” He says. “Here, come in guys.”
“How’s dad?” Y/N asks entering into the foyer.
“Not good. His nurse is here. She thinks, with him knowing his family is here he might be heading out soon.”
She nods. “I haven’t even seen him yet.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll see him tomorrow. Because I’m sure he wants to see you.”
She felt a hand on her shoulder, looking up at Dean he gives her a sweet smile.
“She has her stuff in my truck if you want to help me move her in?” Dean asks.
“Sure thing.”
Her brother and Dean begin making trips from his truck to the house. While she wonders the house. Seeing everything as she left it. Finding a picture of her mom with her, her dad, and her two brothers. A tear finding it’s way to the surface, a tight feeling building tighter in her chest.
So much has happened so far, and she is making a big change in her life.
Hearing the door close takes her out of her haze.
“Alright that’s the last of them, Y/N, I’m gonna head. I’ll pick you up around eight, Fridays are my short days.” Dean says coming up behind her.
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
Dean nods with a smile, offering a hug. She doesn’t hesitate. She needed a hug.
He takes her in close and tight to his chest.
“You’re okay now, you’re safe. Everything is going to be okay sweetheart.” He whispers.
She nods against his chest. Holding back the tears.
He pulls away, giving her one final smile before kissing the top of her head.
“See you tomorrow.” He says. She nods again as he walks out the door, heading home.
“Sis?”
“I’m not okay.” She chokes out before a sob wracks through her.
Her brother doesn’t hesitate in hugging her quickly as she broke down.
“It’s okay baby sis, I’ve got you. No one is going to hurt you  again. Like Dean said, your safe.”
She nods as she cries against her big brother.
 The next morning she woke up, still heavy with memories of last night but the light for a hopeful future tried to beat down the heaviness she felt.
She got up to take a quick morning shower.
Once she got out and cleaned up she saw her nurse in the kitchen getting what looked like a water mug.
“You my dad’s nurse?” she asked sweetly.
“I am honey, he’s doing okay right now, but his body is getting tired.”
“I know, my mom was the same with her cancer.”
“It can take a big toll on the body. If you want to see him he’s up.”
She nods. Not thinking twice she heads up to his room. Seeing her dad lying in bed, peacefully dozing off.
“Hi daddy.”
“Hey buttercup.” He says groggily with a smile.
He saw the remaining evidence of last night.
“Do I need to send my boys after that son of a bitch?”
“No dad, he’s not worth it. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“Good. You know you always have a home here.”
She smiles, taking a seat on his bed. Taking his hand in hers. Her dad rubbing a thumb atop her knuckles.
“I know this sucks sweetie, you getting back after all this time and I’m dying.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about me dad. I got Peirce and Zane, and Dean too.”
“You and that boy back together?”
“We’re just trying for friends right now dad. We both have been through really shitty relationships.”
“He made you so happy.”
She nods. “I know dad, he still does. He’s taking me out for a ride in his car when he gets off at the garage.”
“That’s nice of him.”
She nods.
“Sweetheart, there’s something I need to tell you as well.”
“What is it?”
“You’re getting this house, I want you to have a family in this house so you can tell your kids all the good stories, the bad stories. Tell them you grew up in this house.”
“Dad, I don’t know if I can…”
“The boys are moving back, Zane got himself a job with John Winchester on the police force.”
“Zane still a cop, even after all the crap that’s gone down?”
“He’s a strong man now.”
She nods. “That he is.”
“Peirce and his wife, his wife got a job as a news anchor here, and he is gonna work with Dean in the garage.”
“He never mentioned that to me.”
“Yeah, Peirce has a knack for fixing up cars. Then again, Dean did show him all sorts of stuff after you left. He didn’t know what to do.”
“Then again, he and Dean did graduate at the same time.”
“Yes, that too. But the family is going to be here.” Her dad says, bringing a hand up to her cheek, brushing a thumb across her cheekbone. Her hand helping him hold it there.
“It’s going to be okay Buttercup. You won’t be alone here.”
“I know daddy.”
“I love you all so much.”
She fought the sobs so hard, she brought herself down to his chest, hugging him gently.
“I love you too Dad.”
 That afternoon, she spent some time walking around the town. Seeing things being the same and different all at once. She saw what used to be Dairy Queen get turned into a Starbucks.
Taking her dad’s car she drove around the town, even finding Dean’s garage not far from the city limits.
Pulling in, she decided to stop by and visit.
Walking in she saw a line of people, one woman growing impatient turning around to leave.
This is a bad time. She thought. Until she saw a certain someone at the desk.
“Dean?”
“Hey Sweetheart,” Dean says, typing away. “I would love to visit but I’m really busy.”
“Can I help?”
“You want to help?”
“Yeah, just show me the desk work, I want to help you out.”
“Okay, come around here.”
Dean showed her how to fill out the information in the computer system, giving the customers their papers to fill out.
Showing her how to process them through the system. Showing what to do when the work is done, and what to do at the end of the day.
He was shocked at how fast she worked on the computer. Typing faster than he could. The line got shrunk down quickly, everyone getting checked in.
“Nice.”
“I am a computer nerd too after all.”
“I forget, you’re like Sammy.”
“Now, get to work so we can catch up.”
He chuckles as he turns around to the garage, getting everyone’s cars in and working on them.
Peirce popping in covered in oil and grease.
“Hey sis, got anymore?”
“One more, You guys are quick.”
“A lot of it is oil changes and tire rotations. Some are break pad changes. So, some simple ones.”
“Last one is a rattling noise in her engine.” She says handing him the file.
“Alright, I’ll get to it.” he says taking the file with the keys attached.
She smiles rolling her eyes, shaking her head. In the back of her mind, she thinks she may have found a good day job. It’s simple, fast paced for sure, but she loved doing it, nonetheless.
The workday was coming to a close, Y/N finishing up the paperwork.
“Y/N, We’re done, Dean’s also almost done with your car.” Peirce says coming in behind her.
“Okay.”
“You drove that thing hard, talk about perfect timing.”
“How bad was it?”
“Well, a cylinder burst, and the belt broke. That thing was about to blow.”
“How was he able to fix the cylinder?”
“Chevy’s are easy to come by. He had the right parts, and he was able to fix that, and get you a new belt.”
“He was in here last night wasn’t he, he didn’t go home.”
Peirce held his hands up. “You have to talk to him about that one.”
She shook her head. “Somethings going on, I know it.” she gets up from the desk and heads into the garage.
Seeing him working under the hood of her car.
“Dean, did you go home at all last night?”
“Why?” he asks, grunting as he tightened parts to her engine.
“Its just, engine work, now I’m no expert but that takes a lot of time to work on. Sure you had the parts but, to be done with my car this fast when any other shop would be done with it in a few days. You got done with it in one.”
He got up, wiping his hands. “What are you trying to say?”
“Is there a reason you’re not wanting to go home? Working at odd hours?”
“You sound just like Lisa.” He grumbled.
“Dean, I’m just worried about you is all. I don’t want you working yourself to death.”
“I’m not working myself to death.”
“Then why were you here last night and not at home resting?”
His jaw clenched, not wanting to talk about it.
“Dean, if you’re wanting to try again, you have to open up a bit. I opened up everything I could to you yesterday.”
He looked down at his hands, wiping his hands out of nervous habit.
“We both might have something in common, we had abusive relationships.”
“She…she didn’t…”
“She’d hit me, punch me. And for a small girl, she can hit. She had no reason. I’d come home late, she’d hit me, hurt me. I get home early, same thing. She wanted more with me, but I didn’t. All the late hours working, was to stay away from her. I moved out after I broke up with her. she knows where I live. One night she tried to…”
“Did you call the police, get a restraining order on her?”
“I did, but it doesn’t matter, apparently when guys go through this it’s no big deal.”
“It is too a big deal Dean.”
They sat in silence for a beat, Y/N trying to think what she could do.
“Can’t you move again?”
“I could but I don’t want to move too far from work, you know.”
The sound of tire screeches outside tore them from their conversation.
Peirce came running in as fast as he could.
“Dean, dude, she’s coming!”
“She, as in?” Y/N asked.
“Yes, Lisa. And dude, she’s pissed.”
“Call your dad, now Dean.” Y/N ordered.
Dean did as told. When another set of tires came tearing in.
“Winchester!”
Y/N saw red. Abusive partners, she was getting really tired of how sick and ugly people would get with people they ‘loved’.
She was in auto pilot. She marched out of the garage and towards Lisa.
“Out of the way bitch.”
“He’s not in there skank.”
“The fuck did you call me?”
“Apparently you’re deaf too, here, let me say it slower for you. Skank.”
“You fuckin’ bitch!” she screams. And begins throwing punches at her, wildly.
Y/N able to dodge most of them, blocking the others that got close.
“Y/N stop, the cops are coming!” Peirce warned.
“I’m not doing anything she is!”
“Fuck off!” Lisa screamed.
Dean came into view from the garage. Tearing Lisa’s attention from Y/N to him.
“There you are, the fuck are you doing?”
“We’re done Lisa, I told you.”
“You don’t get to end shit with me Winchester.”
Peirce got himself between her and him, y/n not far behind.
Lisa landed a strong punch on Peirce.
Y/N’s eye’s bulged in rage. She had grabbed onto Lisa’s shirt from behind, pulling her away from her brother before she could land another punch on him. But pulling her so hard she lost her footing and fell on her rear.
“You don’t touch him, or my brother you hear me bitch!”
“The fuck you care, you left him first!”
“At least I didn’t lay a hand on him.”
Lisa jumped up, ready to throw more punches, when a man in uniform. John Winchester came in behind, pulling Lisa’s arms behind her, cuffing her.
“What the fuck!”
“You’re under arrest for domestic assault and aggravated assault.” He says firmly.
“Bull shit, you got no proof!”
“I have my POV cam on honey, I was sitting not far from you. I saw everything.”
“Fuck off!” she screeched.
“No one hurts my son and gets away with it. Lets go.” He pulls her to his cruiser.
Y/N turned her attention to her brother.
She saw Dean sat next to him, handing him an ice pack.
“You okay Peirce?”
“Damn she can throw a punch.”
“Yeah, she’s bad news.” Dean goes.
“Yeah but ignore that, my sis is super woman, she just fucking tossed her like she was nothing!” Peirce laughed with a proud smile.
“Well, no one hurts my family and gets away with it.”
She saw Dean nod lowly. “And no one hurts my friends and gets away with it.”
Dean looks up at her, a confused furrow on his brow before he smiled sweetly at her comment.
“Now I think someone is safe to go home from work now.” She says.
“Yeah, thank god she’s been caught.”
 She drove her dad’s car back home, seeing more cars by her dad’s house.
Getting out, she hurries inside.
The house full of family members she hasn’t seen in years.
Her nurse coming down the stairs.
“He just took a turn; I suggest saying your goodbyes.”
Her eyes filled with thick tears; a sob tore at her throat.
She felt two pairs of hands on her shoulders. Looking to her right she see’s Peirce. And Zane on her left.
The siblings head upstairs to his room. Their dad laid there, his breathing labored and shallow. Clearly suffering.
Zane taking one side of the bed, Y/N and Peirce walking around to the other side. The three holding their dads hand.
“Daddy, we’re here. Everything is okay.” Y/N says.
“Yeah dad, we’ll be okay. We’ll look after Y/N.” Zane says.
“I’ll take good care of the house.” Y/N adds.
“We’ll take care of each other.” Peirce adds after her.
His breathing quickened, pained. They squeezed his hands.
“Daddy it’s okay, you can rest now. We’ll be okay.” Y/N says, holding back the tears.
They felt their dad give a slight squeeze of their hands before his hand going limp.
He let out his last breath, his monitors flatlining.
Y/N let out a pained sob as her hands flew to her mouth to hold back yells of the pain of loss.
Pierce quickly brought his sister in his arms. Zane walking around the bed, hugging his brother and sister as they allowed themselves to cry.
 It seemed like forever, they exited the room, slowly descending the stairs.
Y/N see’s Dean by the door. She quickly descended the last few steps and walks over to him.
Dean didn’t hesitate to hold her closely as she cried against him.
“Shh, it’s going to be okay sweetheart. I got you.”
After an hour of hanging with the family, their extended family leave for the night. The brothers staying, Dean as well.
They sat in the family room, Y/N sitting against Dean, Peirce sitting with his wife and Zane sitting on the end of the couch.
“If you want, one of us can stay here with you.” Peirce says.
“But babe, the baby shower.” Becky begs.
“I think it can hold until I feel okay again, please.”
“Okay, that seems fair.” She says. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay baby.” Peirce says, kissing atop Becky’s head.
“I think I’ll be fine,” Y/n says.
“I can stay with her. Besides, I don’t feel safe at my house despite Lisa being arrested and everything.”
“You’re more than welcome Dean.” Zane says.
Peirce nodding in agreement. “Totally.”
“Besides, we probably should go, get some rest and all that.” Peirce says, after seeing Becky yawn.
They all got up from the couch, exchanging hugs with their sister and sister in law.
“Call us if you need anything okay shortie.”
“Will do big bro.” she smiles
 That night, she got out of the shower with red puffy eyes. She managed to get totally dried off and dressed for bed.
Heading to her room she finds Dean dressed in his pajamas.
“Hope you don’t mind sharing.”
“I don’t mind really. Because, screw going slow, I need you right now.” She says a sob cracking through the surface.
Dean hurries to her, bring her in his arms.
“I’m right here sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers.
He manages to help her into bed, he climbs in on his side of the bed and quickly wraps his arms around her as she continued to cry her eyes out.
He holds her close, placing a kiss atop her forehead, a silent promise that he’s there.
 She woke up the next morning, feeling like she didn’t sleep a wink.
She saw the bed was empty, no sign of Dean but the kitchen smelling of breakfast.
She gets up and heads down to the kitchen. Seeing him dressed and by the stove cooking bacon and eggs.
“Morning beautiful girl.”
“Morning handsome.” She smiles.
“How do you like your bacon?”
“Well not burnt.”
“Come on, crispy bacon is good!” he says playfully.
“Blah!” she fake gags.
Dean rolls his eyes with a chuckle.
“I take it you didn’t sleep good.”
“No, I’m tired.”
“Well, I’m off today. My shop is closed on the weekends. So, we can stay in, clean up the house. Or I can take you on that drive.”
“I want to see baby.”
“A drive it is.”
 After a delicious breakfast, she quickly showers off last nights tears. And dresses quickly, eager to see his 67 impala.
She walks out the door to find it parked in her driveway behind her dad’s car.
Dean sitting on her hood.
“She’s still as beautiful as ever.” She says walking up to him.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
“Stop you hopeless romantic.”
He chuckles hopping off the hood.
“I’m only a hopeless romantic for you.”
She giggles.
“There’s that smile, ready for a nice drive?”
“So ready.”
He walks around to the driver side as she gets in the passenger side.
 He managed to find a nice spot in an abandoned field, overlooking the city of Lawrence.
“Thank you Dean, I really enjoyed this.”
“Glad you did. I enjoyed having you here.”
She looks up towards him, her lips finding his in a sweet and loving kiss.
She felt his hand come up behind her head, brushing through her hair, as he deepened the kiss.
“Sweetheart, if we keep this up, I’m not gonna last.”
“It’s okay Dean,” she says against his lips. Kissing him hard.
He adjusts himself; she adjusts herself with him as he gently guides her down to her back. His hands exploring her body, her hands feeling his strong arms, shoulders, and chest. Shedding their clothes as everything escalates, their lips not leaving.
She laid their completely bare and naked before him. She can feel his eyes roam her body; she felt the urge to hide herself away.
“So gorgeous.” He whispers.
His lips finding hers again, distracting her from his member hardening against her thigh.
She ground her hips against him, pulling a grunt out of him. He pulls away from her kiss.
“Are you sure?”
“Like I said last night, I don’t care anymore right now, I need you Dean. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, you sure?”
“So sure, you are it.”
He smiles proudly, kissing her again as he slowly brought himself into her.
She moaned against his lips as he got himself completely seated within her.
“You good?”
“So good.” She says, grinding her hips, urging him to move.
He begins a steady rhythm, not too hard or rough. Just making her feel good, good enough to forget all that has happened int heir life.
His hands braced against he passenger, the window down giving him a good grip as he drove into her.
“Fuck, faster Dean.” She begs.
His hips begin speeding up in intensity, drawing them closer to their end.
“Fuck sweetheart, you feel so amazing.”
“You too baby,” she pants.
A familiar heated coil builds up in intensity in her belly with every pounding he gave her. He began to speed up, he was close as well.
“Fuck Dean, close…”
“Go for it baby.” He pants.
Her walls clamp hard around him, spurring him into his end as she could feel a rope of thick, sticky come spill out of him. As he came with a guttural groan, her name falling off his lips.
His hips spudder against her as he kept coming, throwing her in a second orgasm, her legs shaking around him as she wrapped them around his waist. His name fall off her lips in a small scream as she came.
His hips thrust slowly to a stop as they came down from their highs, his lips finding hers once again.
“You okay sweetheart?”
“Much better, now that I have you.”
He smiles proudly again before kissing her again. His hips coming to life again.
“You got the stamina of a teenager, you know that.”
“You’re worth making love to for hours baby, you up for round two?”
“Give it to me baby.”
 She can’t help but think of all that’s happened in the course of twenty four to forty eight hours.
She left her boyfriend who never truly loved her, returned home to start fresh.
Thankful she found her first love still waiting for her, ready to give her all the love he was about to give her.
As he drove down the long stretch of road back into town, she sat close to his side with his arm around her. Feeling his warmth radiating off of him. She snuggles close to him. Feeling him give her an assuring squeeze as he drove back to her house.
She was ready for what life was about to throw her way with her knight in shining armor for who she knows she can trust with all her heart, and who she knows really loves her.
~
A/N: What’d you think? Let me know, feedback is always appreciated. :3
~
Dean Girls:
@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @flamencodiva​, @akshi8278​, @megzdoodle​, @misfit0118​, @anotherspnfanfic​, @shawnie74​, @lyarr24​, @missmemoire09​, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67​
~
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Text
Miles of Memories- 1
We’ve Got Tonight- Bob Seger
Miles of Memories Masterlist CarryOnCap’s Masterlist
Dean x reader Best Friends to Lovers AU
Summary: Feeling anxious about heading off to college, you make the most of your last night in town with the help of your best friend, Dean.
Warnings: fluffy, adorable Dean and fun banter. Slight angst (goodbyes are hard). Minor mentions of childhood trauma
WC: 2,900
A/N: This part is like a “prelude” to give you a glimpse of Y/N and Dean’s relationship (5 years before the main storyline). I hope you stay tuned for the slowest of Dean x fem!reader slowburns. I’m so excited to share this story, so please let me know what you think! MASSIVE thanks to my spectacular and badass beta crew—@christopher-evxns @deanwinchesterswitch @ezilyamuzed & @wonder-cole—for all of their help and input!! I edited even after their feedback, so all mistakes are my own.  Credit to Bob Seger for the song :) 
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Zipping your suitcase closed with a heavy sigh, you worked through your mental checklist for the hundredth time to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.
“Jeez, you act like it’s the last time you’ll ever see this place or something.” With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you turned to see Dean leaning casually against your doorframe. “Y’know, I figured I’d talk to Bobby about renting this space out anyway. Save you the stress of missing it while you’re gone because it’ll look completely different the next time you come back.”
“I’m not too worried. I think you’re the last person Bobby would trust with anything—let alone a space in his house.”
Dean grinned, pushing off the doorframe to mosey into your room. “See, normally I’d agree with you. But it just so happens that he gave me my very own key to the garage, so I think he’s coming around. This ready?” He pointed at the suitcase on your bed, and you nodded. 
“Riiight. I’m supposed to believe that Bobby would actually give you a key to come and go at the shop anytime you want.”
Dean shrugged, spinning on his heel with your bag in hand. “Guess he’s looking for a new favorite since you’re skipping town to go be successful out in the real world.”
You snorted and shook your head, silently following him to the door. He stepped out of the way, placing his free hand on the doorknob as you scanned the bedroom one last time. Gnawing your bottom lip, you sucked in a deep breath and tried to alleviate some of the tightness in your chest.
This room had been a safe haven for most of your life, and it was hard to remember the days before you called it “home.” Your mother had passed away when you were a toddler, and your father was a drunk, in and out of jail and your life until one day he didn’t come back. Bobby had often been the one who took care of you when your father needed to pass you off onto someone else. 
You didn’t remember much about the “Travelin’ Man” (as Bobby not-so-lovingly referred to him on the rare occasions he was mentioned), but you could easily recall the night Bobby told you this would be your room for good. The relief and excitement you’d felt upon learning you’d have a space of your own were still vivid. Knowing you had a place you could always return to provided a sense of stability and consistency you’d never known.
Bobby may not have been your father by blood, but he was your dad in every sense of the word. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges and tended to be a hermit, but he also had a heart of gold, and not once had he ever made you question whether he cared about you.
A few weeks after settling into your new home, you had met Jessica and Sam during recess at your new elementary school. Although they were a grade younger, you’d instantly hit it off with them. Jess and Sam had always been there for you over the years, too, willing to lend an ear or make time for movie nights and spontaneous trips to the diner. Eventually, Sam had introduced you to Dean, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. Each and every memory you had growing up involved at least one (if not all three) of them. But while it was difficult saying goodbye to everyone in general...you still hadn’t been able to grasp the idea of saying goodbye to Dean.
Dean was the one who had been by your side through everything. From heartfelt life chats and your deepest moments of self-doubt to car ride sing-alongs and your loudest belly laughs. He was always there to comfort you, remind you not to take things so seriously, and even drag you into trouble once in a while. 
The thought of leaving him and your safe, familiar home brought yet another wave of apprehension and doubt. What if you were making a huge mistake?
“Y/N...” Dean’s gentle voice coaxed you back to reality. “We’ve still got a lot to pack into our night, so don’t go checking out on me yet.”
Without looking back, you slipped past Dean and heard him shut the door as you made your way downstairs. 
“You know, this wouldn’t be so hard if you would’ve just applied like I told you to. Then we could both be going off to college together, and you’d find out what an honor it would be to have me as a roomie.”
“Okay, well, let me remind you that you’re the one who decided to go ‘see what’s out there’ and get a fancy college degree under her belt. And, even if we did survive being roommates without making the other want to pull their hair out, there’s no way in hell that town would be able to handle both of us.”
“That’s fair.”
“Besides, I won’t have much of a chance to miss you. You’ll probably flunk out and be back here by the end of the semester anyway.”
“Also fair,” you laughed. “Taking a year off to work at The Roadhouse and pretend to get my life together seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m a little worried about getting into the groove of studying and all that crap again.”
“You know, if you need help, all you gotta do is pick up the phone. I mean, Sammy’s a real bookworm, and he’s only a phone call away.” Dean winked as he held the front door open and motioned for you to lead the way. 
Sticking your tongue in your cheek, you fought to hide your amusement at the way he threw his brother under the bus. Before you made it through the door, you whirled around toward the stairs again. “Dang it. I forgot my bathroom bag. Do you mind tossing that one in the car? I’ll be right back!”
“Another bag? Where are you gonna put all this crap?” he muttered.
After retrieving the pouch from the bathroom upstairs and making sure you hadn’t left any necessary items in the drawers and cabinets, you hurried outside to find Dean patiently waiting beside your car. You tossed the small bag and he caught it with ease, pitching it in the backseat before closing the door.
“And done. Any last-minute stops to make along the way?” he asked.
“Nope. I caught Ellen, Jo, and Jody at the end of my shift yesterday, and Charlie was over for a bit this morning. And, you know, Sam and Jess ditched us for California last weekend. That means you and Bobby are the only two left to put up with me until I leave in the morning.”
When your voice cracked unexpectedly, you cleared your throat and surveyed the scrapyard until the faint prick in the corners of your eyes faded. As your departure drew near and you considered everything you were leaving behind, venturing out into the world was quickly beginning to feel more daunting than exciting. 
“Hey…” Dean gripped the tops of your arms, stirring you from your thoughts. “We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow? We’ve got tonight...babe. Why don’t you staaaaaaaayy—”
You had thought he was going to say something sweet and comforting, but you playfully shoved him in the chest when you realized he was speaking in Bob Seger lyrics. He stumbled back a step, laughing as he walked around the front of the impala and climbed inside.
***
There was an old park on the outskirts of town where Bobby and John would occasionally drop you both off when they had errands to run. As the years passed, you began riding your bikes the few miles across town, taking turns balancing Sam on your handlebars until Dean was old enough to drive. Eventually, Sam stopped tagging along, but somewhere along the way the park became a place you and Dean cherished. 
A large pond stretched across most of the area, and there was a stately willow tree near the water’s edge that served as your designated “spot.” It was a hideaway often overlooked by others, but it was the perfect escape when the two of you needed a place that was all your own. 
“Alright.” Dean plopped down beside you on the blanket. “You’ve got your grub, an amazing view, and the best company you could ever ask for. What else could you possibly want?”
“You’re right. Baby’s good company and all, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.”
Dean grimaced. “Just for that, I might eat your food.”
“Depending on what it is, I might let you.”
He smirked and unrolled the brown paper sack in his hand. “PB&J’s, just like Mom used to make! I asked if she could whip up a few before she flew out to make sure Sam got all settled at Stanford. She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t catch you and to wish you good luck. This seemed like a, uh, better idea at the time...now that it’s been a couple of days, these might taste like shit.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the sandwich Dean offered. “We’ve probably eaten worse, but I appreciate the sentimental twist. Seeing as how you’re in your 20’s and you had your mom make us sandwiches.”
“Hey, I was going for authenticity! Trying to help you feel like a kid again before you start adulting or whatever and—you know what? Just shut up and eat your food.”
The two of you unwrapped your sandwiches and continued bantering back and forth between bites. Even though the bread was soggy from marinating in jelly for a few days, and it certainly wasn’t the best thing you’d ever eaten, it brought back a flood of nostalgia. 
When a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your thoughts began to drift to dozens of adventures you and Dean had had here. You gazed out over the water, watching the willow branches graze the surface as they gently swayed in the breeze. You tried to commit every detail to memory as you soaked in the peaceful atmosphere, not knowing how long it would be until you returned.
After a while, Dean chuckled under his breath, and you looked at him curiously.
“You remember that day we were pretending to be pirates, and Dad ended up coming to pick us up early?”
“Of course.”
“Man, he was so pissed when he saw us standing on top of that picnic table we managed to drag out and ‘sail’ into the middle of the pond. Sure made an awesome ship, though.”
You smiled at the memory, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I think he was a little more pissed at the fact that we left Sam playing alone in the gazebo. And obviously what made the ‘ship’ great was the pirate flag I made.”
“Uh-huh,” Dean snorted. “You mean the crappy skull you drew on our lunch bag and stuck on the end of a stick? Pretty sure we were having a blast with the ship because it was my brilliant idea in the first place.”
“I was like 8, and it was still better than anything you could’ve drawn.” You crumpled up your trash and threw it at him. “And I was having fun--right up until you pushed me off anyway. I nearly choked to death on all that nasty water I sucked in.”
“Okay, well, you shouldn’t have been trying to be Captain when I’m the oldest, and it was clearly my title to begin with. There was no plank to walk, but obviously, you had to go overboard.” 
He grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the water. As you studied his face and noticed the faraway look in his eye, his smile faded. You figured his thoughts had drifted back to his dad, who had passed away a couple of years later. 
“I felt so damn bad, though. I really was afraid you were gonna drown. And Bobby was ready to kill me when he found out.”
“Lucky for you, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
The two of you joked and reminisced for several more hours, eventually watching the sun set over the water until it sank below the horizon. When it was time to head back to Bobby’s, Dean took the long way home so you could crank the radio and sing along with your hand hanging lazily out the open window. Back at the house, you sat on the kitchen counter and talked with both men until Bobby finally bid you goodnight--but you still weren’t ready to call it a night, knowing morning would come soon and it would be time for you to leave. 
After convincing Dean to stay a little longer, you grabbed a couple of old blankets and spread them in the bed of one of the pickup trucks near the house. With your head on his chest and your body tucked comfortably against his side, you chatted beneath the stars until you drifted off to sleep.
***
“Got everything all packed up?” Bobby asked.
“I think so,” you answered.
“Better double-check because I’m not driving a few hours just to bring you a lost shoe or something.” 
“Is that a challenge?” you teased, seeing right through his gruff quip. “Because I bet I could talk you into it. We both know you’re not gonna know what to do without me.”
He frowned a little before smiling fondly, and you could’ve sworn there was a misty glaze in his eyes.
“Yeah. I s’pose you’re right.”
“Oh, don’t get all sentimental on me now. You could probably use a little break. Besides, I’ll be back so often you’ll just get sick of me all over again.”
“C’mere, kid.” 
Bobby reached out and pulled you into a hug. Much too soon, he let go and stepped aside so you could say goodbye to Dean. His soft green eyes had been fixed on you, but he glanced away and clenched his jaw when you took a step toward him. 
“So, uh...don’t forget about us when you make it big out there in the real world—catch a break as an artist or an author or some music critic.”
“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “I haven’t even picked out a major yet, but I think I have an advisor who can help me figure out a good fit...eventually. Maybe I’ll be a doctor—or follow in Sam’s footsteps and be a lawyer!”
“There you go. Why not just do it all while you’re at it? Jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever you end up doing, you better come back to visit soon.”
“You got it. Try not to turn into a grumpy old man while I’m gone.”
He shook his head, cracking a smile as he met your eyes. “Only a couple years older than you, brat. Anyway, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I made you a playlist for the drive. Figured I might as well do something useful while I was awake. I sent it to you while you were getting ready.”
Pulling out your phone, you found a message already waiting with a link to the playlist. 
“This is awesome, Dean, thank you. But if it ends up being six hours of nothing but Zeppelin, I’m gonna be pissed.”
He tossed his head back and laughed, making the knot in your throat grow once again at the thought of not seeing him almost every day. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d miss you as much as you were going to miss him.
“Don’t worry; I think it ended up being a decent mix. Not too many classics and not too much of the more modern crap. There was, uh... a certain thought process behind each song, let’s just say that.”
“We all know some of that modern crap is a guilty pleasure of yours. I mean, Taylor Swift?”
“Yeah…” His gaze lingered until his grin faded to a sad smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Pressing your lips into a thin line, you leaned forward and threw an arm around each man. Squeezing your eyes closed, you hugged them tight.
“All joking aside...you got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna kick this college thing in the ass,” Dean murmured.
“Thank you.”
Clearing your throat, you slipped out of their embrace and quickly made your way to the car. 
“Drive safe--and call when you get there!” Bobby hollered.
Stealing one last glimpse over your shoulder, you waved and slid behind the wheel. You hit shuffle on the playlist, letting the music fill the vehicle while you fasten your seatbelt.
I know it’s late
I know you’re weary
I know your plans don’t include me...
You shook your head and smiled, blinking back tears at the irony of the song—the lyrics perfectly encapsulating your night with Dean.
Look at the stars so far away
We’ve got tonight
Who needs tomorrow?
We’ve got tonight, babe
Why don’t you stay?
As you started the car and drove away, seeing him and Bobby grow smaller in the rearview mirror, you finally began to cry.
Part 2
CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):
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Also tagging those of you who seemed interested when I posted the masterlist. I don’t want to pester you, so I probably won’t tag you in future parts unless you let me know that you’d like to be tagged!
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years
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Strangers (Part 2)
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Summary: A month after meeting Dr. Winchester, the reader finds herself back in the hospital and her new boyfriend is not happy to see her there...
Masterlist
Pairing: Doctor!Dean x patient!reader
Word Count: 2,100ish
Warnings: language, crazy-ex boyfriend, mention of surgery/injury
A/N: I hope you enjoy!
_____
One Month Later
“Hello,” said a familiar voice as they walked around the curtain with a chart. “I’m Dr...sweetheart?”
“Dr. Sweetheart, huh?” you giggled, wincing a bit. Dean immediately looked down at your chart and was frowning. “What are you doing down in the ER?”
“Slow day upstairs which I always consider a good thing. Helping out,” he said.
“Hello, Dean,” said your mom, getting up and giving him a hug. 
“Hi Alice,” said Dean as he returned it, pouting at you. “You’re experiencing stomach pains?”
“Yeah. My parents freaked out cause you know, still a new digestive system,” you said, closing your eyes. “Living with your parents as an adult is just awesome.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, lifting up your shirt and pressing his hand around.
“Cause you’d worry. You’re a worrier boyfriend, Dean,” you said. 
“Alice, could you go over to the main station and tell them Dr. Winchester would like to see Dr. Mace for an emergency consult on Y/N? He’ll remember her,” said Dean.
“Of course,” she said, up and out of her chair like that. Dean pressed down gently over the scar on your stomach and glanced at you.
“Boyfriend huh. I haven’t heard that yet,” he said.
“It’s been a month and the fact that you have been totally cool with having dates at my parents house with me tells me it’ll be very difficult to get rid of you,” you said. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“I don’t mind at all. You had a major surgery. You need to rest and have someone take care of you, sassy,” he said, pressing down on your right side. Your hand caught his wrist and glared at him. He pressed down more gently and you hissed. “Alright. Good news or bad news.”
“Bad news.”
“Good news is your transplant is fine,” he said.
“I said bad news first.”
“I know,” he smirked. “Bad news, your appendix is taking it’s swan song. They probably should have taken it during your first surgery but it wasn’t bothering anything then so they saw no need. I’m gonna have Dr. Mace look you over while I get you booked in the OR. My buddy Donna is on general surgeries today. She’s great. You’ll love her.”
“We gotta find a better way of me meeting your friends than surgery. Maybe like a party,” you laughed. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and smiled. “How much is this gonna set me back?”
“About a week, a little less. I know you’re tired of getting carved up like a turkey.”
“It’s cool. I’d rather have it out if it’s not working anymore,” you said. “I was supposed to start looking at new apartments with my mom this afternoon.”
“Where were you looking?” he asked.
“East Manor.”
“I’m in there, one of the townhouses. It’s a really good place,” he said. “I’ve never had any problems.”
“Oh, that’s nice to hear. I loved my old place but I can’t stay there. It’s too, you know...”
“I understand,” he said, a doctor coming over and grabbing his shoulder.
“I have a torso impalement on a ten year old. I need you in ER 2 now,” said the other guy.
“Shit,” said Dean. “I gotta go sweetheart. You’re gonna be just fine. I might have to miss our date tonight.”
“S’good. Go to work, babe,” you said. He gave you a kiss on the cheek and ran off with the other doctor just as your mom came back over. She smirked as she sat back in her chair. “What?”
“You know the whole bleach thing might be a blessing in disguise,” she said.
“Ma. I almost died.”
“I know but you didn’t,” she said. “Plus he’s a doctor. Even dad likes him and he was ready to have you never date again.”
“Mom. I’m an adult,” you said. “One crazy ex doesn’t mean all guys are like that.”
“Where’d he run off to anyways?” she asked.
“Gonna go try and save a kid,” you said. “Fingers crossed. I’m fine, bad appendix is all.”
“Well fingers crossed for you too. We could do with some good luck around here.”
One Week Later
“Hey,” you said, an exhausted looking Dean answering his front door. 
“Hey,” he said, rubbing his face off. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I wanted to go out for a drive and I know you’ve been working like crazy on all the surgeries for that kid. I wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything,” you said. 
“Y/N, come on, you’re still recovering. You ought to be at home in bed,” he said.
“I’m perfectly fine to drive. Let me make you some dinner quick before you crash for bed yourself,” you said. 
“I’m only saying yes because the thought of making something to eat makes me want to cry right now,” he said. “I’m so fucking tired.”
“Then let me in and I will take care of you for a change, boyfriend,” you said. He moved aside and he showed you past the living area to the kitchen. 
“That’s the pantry,” he said, pointing at a cupboard.
“Alright. I will find you something really yummy to make and in the meantime, go shower and sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s done.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” he said.
“That’s more your department than mine,” you said. “Go on, I got this.”
You let him nap for an hour, Dean tired but better looking when he wandered out of his room into the kitchen in a pair of sweats and a henley.
“I ever mention how perfect you are?” he asked as he sat down in front of a giant plate of food.
“No but it’s appreciated,” you said. “I haven’t cooked in forever.”
“It smells great,” he said, rubbing his eye. “I don’t know if this kid is gonna make it or not. So much was damaged or destroyed.”
“What number surgery will tomorrow be?” you asked.
“Seven,” he said, starting to eat. You didn’t ask anymore questions and let him eat quietly, eventually Dean pushing the empty plate away. “I’m stuffed.”
“Now back to bed with you,” you said, helping him to his feet.
“I could get used to this being bossed around by you thing,” he smirked.
“In your dreams, Winchester. I’ll lock up after myself,” you said.
“Y/N,” he said as you started to leave. You turned around and he had this gentle look on his face. “Thanks, for coming over tonight. My day wasn’t great. You always seem to make it better somehow.”
“As long as you try your best, that’s all you can ever do. Get some sleep, Dean.”
“You too, sweetheart.”
The Next Night
“Hi,” you said as Dean walked up the driveway at your parents house. You were sitting on the front porch in the big chair reading a book. He was in his scrubs and a hoodie, not saying a word until he sat beside you and rested his head on your shoulder. “Did you lose him?”
“Almost. His system was so wrecked it was killing him. We had to gut him. I just did my first pediatric liver and kidney transplant,” he said. “Mace assisted me. It’s gonna be rough but the kid’s gonna pull through.”
“That’s great,” you said, giving him a hug. He hummed and shut his eyes. “You happy?”
“Yeah. After the girl last month, I needed this,” he said.
“Well you don’t always have to save a life to have a good day,” you laughed. He snuggled into your side and your shirt rode up some, revealing part of your scar. “Dean. Back at the hospital when I asked about my scar...did you mean that?”
“This?” he asked, lightly grazing his finger over the pink skin. A shiver ran up your spine and he smiled. “I may be biased but to me, scars are pretty cool. It means you’re a survivor. What you went through...most people don’t walk away from that and even then, most don’t walk away happy. If I were you, I would be terrified of so much.”
“You save children’s lives. You work in fear every single day. I don’t think you’d have one problem in my shoes.”
“I was prepared for that though. I knew what I went to school for and what I was trained for, for years and years. You though...nothing prepares you for someone you trust to hurt you like that,” he said.
“I don’t want to live my life afraid I suppose,” you said. “I trust you. You make me feel safe. He was one bad person and he’s away forever in a mental ward. Plus I got you. Wasn’t all bad.”
“How are you so...half-glass full?” he asked, sitting up but sticking close to your side. “I want to be more like that.”
“I wasn’t always. When you flirt with death like I did, the fact part of me refused so adamantly to give up when it would have been the easy thing to do...it’s really hard not to think of that as the worst thing I’ve ever gone through because honestly, it is. It sucked. I remember the pain and all of it. But compared to that extreme, the rest of my life is amazing. My appendix went bad? So what. That was nothing compared to my surgery before. My badass pediatric surgeon boyfriend is having a bad day? I can cook him a home cooked meal, even if it made me a bit tired myself. He showed me kindness time and time again. He never once complained about how there’s been a certain lack of privacy or intimacy so far with us. He’s not complained about the time my new medication made me throw up the dinner he’d cook me. He sat with me while I was freaking out that I’d just torn open my stomach or something by doing that. He explains all the medical questions my parents have in an easy to understand way. Dean, talk to Mace. I was not a happy camper when I woke up with some other guy’s digestive system in me. Someone else dying is the only thing that kept me alive. That’s incredibly difficult to deal with. But if I got through that, I can get through most anything I think. Also you are very cute so that helps.”
“Thanks,” he laughed quietly. “You’ still different though. I’ve met a lot of inspiring people and kids and all that. You just...you’re different. You asked if I was okay. Strangers don’t do that really.”
“I don’t like when you’re not okay,” you said with a shrug.
“Do me a favor. Next time you’re at a hospital, it’s just cause you’re visiting me on my lunch?” he asked.
“I will do my very best,” you said. You kissed him and he returned it, his finger tracing over your scar lightly. “It doesn’t bother you?”
“Not one bit. Let’s try to not get any new ones for a while though?” he asked.
“I would be more than happy to,” you said. As you sat, a light rain began to come down and Dean tucked his feet up underneath himself. 
“You want to stay over my place tonight?” he asked. “I got the next few days off.”
“Yeah. I’d love to,” you said. “I uh, I’m not…” 
“I just want you to stay over is all. I can be a gentleman,” he chuckled.
“You don’t have to be a gentleman gentleman,” you laughed. “I’m not on anything at all right now though and I’d prefer to wait until I was. There’s plenty of other things though.”
“There are,” he said, a coy smirk crossing his lips briefly. “Tonight I want to have a quiet night with you if that’s alright.”
“More than,” you said. “Let me pack a bag. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”
_________
A/N: Read Part 3 here!
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saharamae21 · 3 years
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We Were Wild - Prologue
Hey guys. As you may be able to tell, I am a HUGE Minnesota Wild fan. A huge hockey fan in general. I decided to write a fanfic about the Wild and Kaprizov (the love of my life). I’m writing this for my own entertainment but I also hope you guys like it. Even if you aren’t a NHL fan, I think this will be a cute love story. You don’t need to know the players.
Thanks guys.
Also the title will probably change... Haha.
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____________________________________________________
Prologue:
The cold always felt like home to me. Winter always made me happier than the summer ever could. With winter came skating and hot chocolate. It also brought blizzards and freezing temperatures, things that often reminded me of myself…
I woke up with the air feeling extra heavy within my room. The humidity would not let up, especially during a Minnesota summer. On top of that, my air conditioner sat broken in the window, mocking me.
I could hear the sounds of rush hour beginning. I pulled my curtains open to see the city bustling around me. I smiled down at the busy street below me. Whenever I looked out the window at the traffic below, I felt on top of the world. Something about the busy city made me feel at home. After spending my time at college up in the northland, I was happy to be back in the cities.
I let out a yawn and made my way down the hallway. I could see my college best friend and current roommate pouring a bowl of cereal out of the corner of my eye as I slipped into the bathroom.
“Kat! You aren’t really going to spend the rest of your summer in an ice rink, right?” Eliza yelled across the apartment at me when she heard the faucet running. I chuckled as I splashed the cool water on my face.
“You know I love hockey,” I retorted, grabbing my toothbrush. I heard her snicker and told me to come eat breakfast before I left. I shook my head though. My stomach was filled with butterflies at the idea of starting my new job.
I pulled my long brown hair out of my face and up into a high ponytail. I couldn’t have it getting in the way today. I applied a small amount of makeup before really looking at myself in the mirror. I smiled, trying my hardest not to look too tired.
“Come at least sit with me while I eat breakfast!” Eliza whined. I chuckled and walked out to the kitchen. I filled a glass of water and sat down next to her. She rolled her eyes when she saw the excitement in me. “You know they only want you because of the new Russian kid they’re bringing in. You’re basically going to be a translator, Katerina.”
Sadly, she was right. They hired me as a photographer, but they asked me to help their newest rookie out. I had a feeling that pictures would be lower on my task list then I had initially expected.
They hired me because I had hockey photography experience from college. I took photos for my university’s hockey team. Not to mention that they were one of the best college teams in the US. However, they also hired me because I was Russian.
Katerina Petrov, first generation immigrant. My parents immigrated to the US when I was four. My mother didn’t speak a word of English and my dad had a limited vocabulary. He basically got a factory job by saying, “I fix that for you,” and pointing at a machine. Russian was my first language and English was my second.
“I know…” I muttered. “But on top of that, they’re paying me to shoot their games. That’s my dream. Plus who wouldn’t want to be surrounded by the hottest team in the NHL.”
She laughed at my joke, knowing damn well that I was right. The Minnesota Wild has some of the best looking hockey players across North America. Still, Eliza looked at me and told me not to get my hopes up. She was right, this job might not be what I think it would be.
After she had finished eating, we both went back to our rooms to get ready for the day. She was off to her engineering job and I was heading to the TRIA Rink where the Minnesota Wild held practice. We lived very different lives.
My jaw hung open as I walked up to the building. I couldn’t believe that I was actually here. I secured my camerabag on my back and took a deep breath. I slipped my face mask on and pulled the door open.
Inside the lobby, Bruce Kluckhohn waited for me. He smiled at me as I walked in. I walked up confidently and offered him a handshake. I greeted him nicely with a huge smile on my face.
“Katerina, right?” he asked me. I smiled and held back my chuckle. Hearing my full name in an American accent always caught me off guard.
“You can call me Kat,” I said. He nodded in response and took me around the practice arena.
It was cold and empty when we got there. There was no sign of players anywhere. My head swiveled around to see everything about the room. I took mental notes on where the lights were and where the best spots to stand would be. I glanced at the plexiglass around the rink and smiled at how clear they were still.
“You won’t have to worry about that,” Bruce said as he motioned for me to follow him. I tilted my head in confusion and walked slowly behind him. We made our way around the rink and onto the bench. I could feel the chilled air radiating off of the ice. Bruce turned to me with a smile. “You will shoot from here.”
I stared at him in silence for a moment as my mind tried to process what he was saying. Why would I get such an awesome spot to shoot from? I opened my mouth to ask questions but I was interrupted by someone behind me. I turned around at the call of my name and saw someone I would recognize a mile away. Dean Evanson, the Wild’s head coach, stood right in front of me.
“Katerina, it’s wonderful to meet you,” he said with a smile. He shook my hand.
“Hi,” I said, freezing up a little bit. “You can call me Kat.”
I could tell he was surprised by my voice. I sounded very American and he was not expecting it. Even though I was Russian first, I lost my accent at a young age. I spoke English everywhere except for at home and having an accent made things harder for me growing up.
“Okay Kat,” he said, a smile on his face. “C,mon. I can show you the rest and explain things a little bit more.”
I nodded and followed him through the rest of the training facilities. It was a huge building and I could see myself getting lost before I got used to it. I listened carefully as he explained the situation to me. As I listened, I felt myself getting more and more discouraged. The reason I was here was to provide Bruce a hand. There was no guarantee that they would use my photos anyways. The main reason I was here was to help with communication between the coaches and their newest team member, Kirill Kaprizov. That’s why I would shoot their practices from the bench. It was so I could provide clarification at practice whenever he needed it.
“We really appreciate having you here and we look forward to seeing the talent you bring to our team,” Dean said as we made it back to the rink. I forced a smile on my face and nodded, telling him I would do my hardest before he walked away.
After he left, I looked out at the rink and noticed a few of the players skating on the ice. Bruce was over on the side opposite of me taking a few photos of the guys. There were no coaches around, but they looked like they were working on some drills. I walked over to the bench and pulled my camera out. I attached my 70-200 mm lens and adjusted my settings carefully. I snapped a couple of photos, observing the players on the ice. I immediately recognized a couple of them. Jared Spurgeon. Mats Zuccarello. Kevin Fiala. Matt Dumba. I could name them all. Well, all but one.
He looked young. He had to be around my age. His dirty blonde hair stuck out the back of his helmet. However, the thing I noticed the most was that he looked frustrated. He skated over to the bench, muttering to himself.
“I’m trying to understand, but I keep messing it up,” he said under his breath. However, he didn’t say it in English. This was him. This was Kirill Kaprizov.
“You’re working hard. Don’t worry, it will get easier,” I said to him.
His head shot in my direction. He had this dumbfounded look on his face as he stared at me.
“You can understand me?”
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winchesterxxi · 3 years
Text
Tolerate It (Din Djarin x Reader)
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Rating: PG-13 my dudes. 
Type: Angst and some undercooked tasteless fluff cuz I’m a mess and extremely rusty.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Unrequited love, because that’s all we have these days and that shit hurts.
A/N: Based on Taylor Swift’s “Tolerate it” because I deadass listened to that song for the first time and could just picture this scenario ALSO I’m extremely rusty. As in, I haven’t written jackshit like this in over a year. Pardon this crap, but i was really emotional and in need to project onto a newly released song.
✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸
I sit and watch you reading with your head low
The three of you were sitting in the cockpit. The Mandalorian resting his head against the leather of the pilot chair as you sat behind him, The Child in your arms, entertaining itself by tugging and twirling some of your hair strands as you smile down at him and wiggle the occasional finger against his side making him laugh.
This adorable green creature didn’t even phantom about your existence 4 months ago and now you would kill and get killed for it. And admittedly, the same goes for the man resting with his back to you.
I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed
I sit and watch you.
You were a servant at the tavern where he was set to meet the Client and hand over the child, which was all part of a bigger plan, you later found out. Just like him and his team,  you got trapped when the stormtroopers and deathtroopers surrounded the building and opened fire, killing the Client and sending a bullet flying dangerously close to your head. When Mando, as you called him,  found a vent into the sewers he made sure that you were not left behind.
And that started it for you. He directed no more than 10 words in your direction between entering the location and offering an escape once it was crumbling down, but he was willing to save your life. Once out of danger, the questions started: “who are you”, “what’s your name”, and “don’t you have a place to go”. You told him then, the answers to all of those questions. And you also explained how, given that you were a servant you didn’t actually have a place to go back to. 
So he did a logical thing. Or at least, then and there, it was a purely logical thing. A pro-quo, if you will. He offered you a place to stay,  in return of you working as some sort of a makeshift assistant of his own; someone to look after The Child when he couldn’t and proceed basic maintenance to the Razor Crest when needed.
And you accepted. You know, the logical thing.  Or at least , then and there, it was a purely logical thing.
Though small, you had your own bed in the lower part of the ship giving you some privacy, occasionally disrupted by The Child that insisted on being cuddle against you in order to fall asleep or when there was an emergency that required your help, but, even then, Din wouldn’t just barge in; He’d always knock and make sure you were okay with him opening the door.
You told yourself that he was just being respectful - giving you the privacy that he hoped you’d retribute, which you always did. When it came to such things, you’d tip toe around him, not asking too many questions and only talking when spoken to or when you wanted to break an incredibly heavy silence. You respected The Way.
I notice everything you do or don't do
Eventually, you started to pick up through his body language traits and quirks of his personality that you couldn’t capture through the enclosed and hidden facial expressions: how he’d always lay The Child against his left arm while on a hunt as to work the weapons with his other hand, how he’s close his fists whenever he realized that he was about to shoot someone; or how after encasing any creature in carbonite, he’d always look over at his capture for a few moments in silence, before rolling his shoulders back and walk away, without uttering a word.
And those little things started to change with time. Changing, as in, new instincts and unconscious movements came to be concerning you: small things, like he’d never walk you in front of him, so as to be on the lookout to any danger or making sure to deviate any conversation that a badly-internationalized creature might want to direct at you.
Eventually, it became bigger. Or at least you thought. He’d make sure that you were covered whenever you fell asleep anywhere that wasn’t your bed; he started to crack jokes with you and have the occasional fight over whose time it was to bathe the kid, like an old married couple.
You're so much older and wiser, and I I wait by the door like I'm just a kid
I greet you with a battle hero's welcome
Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it
One day he’d be like that, and the next, he’d come back after a hunt in which it was too dangerous for you to go, and you’d been waiting all day (when it wasn’t a whole week) for him to come back, not injured and very much alive, and he almost wouldn’t acknowledge you, going straight into the fresher and locking himself in there.
Every time you’d be at the ready with cloths in your hand, prepared to clean any blood splatter or to wrap any open wound. But he’d dismiss you and lock himself away, somewhere in the ship.  
If you didn’t know what mixed signals were before, you sure as hell knew now.
I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listеn, I polish plates until they gleam and glistеn
One day, you had enough.
It was dark night already, and Mando made a lousy entrance through the main portal, struggling to push ahead of him a man much larger than him, draped in canvas coverings.
“Just walk.” Mando grunted, at the same time as he pushed against the man’s back. You were just sitting there, as always, first aid at the ready by your side, watching the scene unfold, unbothered. That is, until you caught the man’s eye.
While you were out building other worlds, where was I?
“Last time I heard you were a lone rider.” He wickedly grins at you. “But maybe that was all talk and you were just keeping this all to yourself.”
You slowly sit upright as your body tenses up. Mando doesn’t utter a word.
“Who’s that pretty thing anyways?”
“No one. Keep walking.” He grunts, pushing the man once more and away from you.
No one. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have been so bothered by that description because, truth be told, he was probably trying not to get you involved in any unnecessary interactions with that disgusting being. But it’s as if those words were the final straw you needed to snap out of this passiveness you’ve held on to for the past few months.
“You know virtually everything there is to know about me, my life, and my planet. You gave me shelter and I owe my life to you. But I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s The Way.”
“Oh would you shut the fuck up with that, already?”
“You don’t talk to me like that.”
“Does The Way say that you have to be an asshole 90% of the time. Shutting out the world around you whenever you just don’t feel like dealing with them. I never even got a single thank you for rewiring the central system which prevented us from freezing to death.”
“You won’t even acknowledge me every time you come back from a hunt and you just told that guy that I was no one. Those were the exact words you used.”
“I ditched the very peaceful and stable life that I had because I wanted to help you. I have done nothing but be loyal to you for the past few months, doing everything you ask me to, yet here I am begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” 
You are too close to him, almost pressed against his chest. He steps past you, brushing against your shoulder, leaning over the cockpit’s panel, his hands supporting him. He answers, with his back facing you, like he always seems to do these days.
“If it was so peaceful, maybe you should go back to it, because obviously you weren’t cut for this life.”
“What, I wasn’t cut for The Way?” you walk in his direction, blood boiling and fists curled by your side.
“Exactly.”
“Fine, maybe I’ll go.” And in that moment you could almost swear his face dropped, even if you couldn’t see it. Taking advantage of the moment you step in his direction, tilting your head up, summoning all your strength “But first tell me it’s all in my head.”
“What?” he is caught off guard, turning to face you.
“Tell me that you haven’t stared more than a couple of times. That your heart didn’t drop to the bottom of your stomach when I almost drowned in the Mamacore cage. Tell me that you don’t need my help and that I mean nothing to you.  Tell me that I am taking up too much of your space or time.”
“You can’t know if I stare at you.” Really? That’s the one thing he chose to answer?
“That I can.” you straighten your back, trying to look taller.
“How would you know?” comes the distorted voice through the helmet speakers.
“The same way that you don’t need to have eyes in the back of your head to know when someone is coming at you with a sword or pointing a gun at your head.”
He is silent but you can hear his breathing through the helmet - how it’s slightly accelerated.
“Din.”
“What was that?” you furrow your eyebrows, thinking that he only uttered a random sound.
“Din Djarin. That’s my name.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He finally told you. It took almost a whole bloody year but he told you. He trusts you that much.
“Din and in D-i-n or Dean as in D-e-a-n?” you genuinely ask, walking over to the control table leaning your lower back against it. Din mimics your action, turning around and leaning himself against it, next to you.
“I just revealed to you a piece of information that I have never told anyone and you’re worried about the spelling.” he scoffs crossing his arms.
“I’d like to know what name will be written on my death certificate if I ever get killed because of you.”
He laughs. He actually laughs. Suddenly the heavy and tense atmosphere that was being held between the both of you dissipates as you both relax.
“You have quite the sense of humor.”
“And it only took you 7 months to find that out AND tell me your name.”
Then, silence again. But this time it isn’t uncomfortable. Not like the one there normally is. It’s as if you’ve quite literally cleaned the air. It is now comfortable to just be in his presence, nothing else. Not like it wasn’t before, don’t get me wrong, but you always needed something else, something more. But now? You were content.
“Sorry about what I said earlier, the you’re no one part.”
You smile up at him “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not, you said it yourself, I was an asshole.”
“No I shouldn’t have --” he cuts you off.
“You should. You are right. I just...” “The real reason why I dismiss you so much is because I am scared.” Now that catches you off guard.
“Scared of what? Of me? Because trust me you have fought with creatures much more --”
“No, I am scared that if I let you in, I’ll end up going the wrong way. I’m scared that if I let myself look at you when I want to or if I let myself give in to how much I want to come back to you at the end of every day that I’ll end up destroying all this discipline that I’ve insisted on myself all these years.”
Wow. You have to steady yourself with your hands with this information that just hit you right in the chest.  “If I let myself give in to how much I want to come back to you at the end of every day” those words echo in your head and make your heart beat faster. Does he really feel that way about you?
But you decide with your better judgment not to push that particular point as the simple fact of him revealing the tiniest bit of his true feeling has already pushed him much farther than what he was willing to.
“I never asked you to take off your helmet.”
And little do you know that maybe you two are more similar than what meets the eye as now it’s his time to think Really? That’s the one thing she chose to answer?
“I know. And you’re the first person to not ask me that.” he says.
“Because I respect you. And I know how much it means to you, to keep your principles.”
“Is that all it is? Respect?” his heart is beating so fast and his body heat as come way up that the canvas and beskar around his body suddenly feel too itchy and warm.
You decide against your better judgment and toy with the idea.
“Why, did you expect anything else?” 
“What- no no I didn’t ---” he stumbles over his own words, trying to still seem like the bigger person, but you cut him off.
“Din.”
“Hunh?” his helmet snaps in your direction and, maybe you are seeing things, but you can almost swear that you can see a pair of worried eyes through the black visor.
“I like you too.” and just like that the galaxy stopped. He almost forgot how to breathe weren’t it for your own alternated breathing that reminded him to allow that mechanism to happen again in himself. “And I’m willing to wait for whatever it is that you need to feel to be comfortable enough around me, and to let me in.”
There’s a sweet silence as you rest your warm hand on top of his leather-gloved one, your warmth passing through the fabric and he looks down at it in awe, his heart swelling like never before. 
Suddenly you feel yourself being pushed in Dean’s direction from the opposite side from where he is leaning against the control board. You try to subtly resist it but the force gets too strong at once and you are plunged to his front. Thankfully he is quick enough to catch you and press you flush against his chest.
Both of your breathings are extremely accelerated and your heart is pumping in your your ears with the sudden movement. You can feel his gloved hands on the lower of your back. Then, you both slowly look to the side, to the sound of a coo only to find the kid, on the ground in front of you both, little hand outstretched.
“That little shit.” exhales Din.
You get your hand up and swiftly smack the back of his helmet.
“A little respect, that’s your son.”
TAGS
@tillytheslytherin​
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neonthewrite · 3 years
Text
Washed Up Winchesters 5
The team gets up to some investigating and stuff! It's time to figure out where to find their shipful of monsters.
Cowritten with @nightmares06, the writer behind the @brothersapart multiverse!
( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( 4 ) -5- ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 )
Story Tag
Read Time ~10 minutes
~~~~~
Chase grinned as Jacob’s gait steadied out, and he looked out ahead of them. The gently rolling hills around the main city of Lilliput stretched before them, and it was almost like flying. “Cheer up, Dean, we’re gonna arrive in style no matter where we go this way!”
Dean put his head in his hands at that assurance, and there was a barely-audible reply, which, if anyone leaned in close enough to hear the mumble, they would have made out "Never living this down, ever."
Sam only smiled and gave Dean a confident pat on his head, the only part of Dean that was in reach while he slumped down.
Minnie slapped Chase’s arm with the back of her hand and gave him a warning look. He rolled his eyes dramatically, but didn’t say anything more to try to coax Dean out of his worries. Considering it was his first time ever getting a lift from a giant, he was doing just fine.
Jacob kept that in mind as he walked. He didn’t normally rush himself when walking around the city of miniature people. They would usually see him ambling along at a relaxed pace, one that wouldn’t get him anywhere fast if he was the right size around there. Even now, he could spot some people on the outskirts of town pausing to look over at him as he passed by. He tried to soften his steps a bit, but didn’t slow down.
At least, not until he’d rounded the edges of the city and the harbor was in sight. He had to watch his step much more closely, and he all but inched up to one of the docks at the very edge of all the bustling activity. People were keeping busy, and most of them hardly even thought to look up at the sign of his rumbling footsteps.
All in all, the walk couldn’t have taken much more than five minutes for him.
“Do you guys see the ship you were on? Would you recognize it from up here?” he asked, looking straight down at his hand. He was curious for their answer as much as for how well they were doing after their first (conscious) trip with a giant.
Sam leaned off the edge of the giant's hand, squinting slightly to try and make out the markings on the ship. It was hard to forget the ship that tossed him and his brother overboard to be lost at sea.
"That's it," Sam confirmed as soon as he spotted it. "Can you see if there's anyone still on the ship?"
Chase braced his hands on the base of one of Jacob's fingers so he could lean over and squint at the ship Sam was pointing to. It seemed nondescript to his eyes, and hardly stood out among the others; he'd never claimed a strong knowledge in telling the difference between boats. "I don't see anyone," he hedged, but his tone said he was unsure.
Jacob's mouth twisted into a disapproving frown as two of the people on his hand leaned so close to the edge. He wasn't about to nudge them back yet, but he was on alert.
"No one above deck, anyway," he observed.
Sam frowned as well, intently scanning the ship and surrounding landscape. "We need to find them..." he muttered. "There's no telling if they'll be looking for new victims once they're on solid ground."
"Can we get down yet?" Dean asked plaintively from where he was sitting with his legs crossed.
“Yeah, yeah,” Chase teased with a grin, patting a hand on Jacob’s palm. He looked up and pointed at an area of the shipyard more loaded with boxes than with bustling people. “Can ya let us off there? We can go investigate, and stuff!”
Jacob smirked. “Investigate and stuff? Can’t believe I’m missing out,” he teased right back, nudging at Chase’s side even as he knelt down carefully. He didn’t move his hand further away from his chest until he was as close to the ground as he could get without sitting down. It looked like Dean was too woozy for anything crazy.
While everyone disembarked, he braced his free hand on the ground to keep steady. “I’ll wait over here for you guys.”
~~~
After quite a bit of “investigating and stuff,” the group didn’t have many leads to go on. Surprisingly, Chase was the most outwardly disappointed by that fact. As they returned to meet up with Jacob and decide where to look next, Chase tilted his head back and frowned at the sky.
“Man, we coulda gotten so many more clues if someone hadn’t decided to argue with that fisherman so much,” he pointed out. “What kinda secret agenting can we do like that?”
Dean scowled at Chase's obvious diss towards their methods. "You want to be in charge, short stop?" he griped irritably.
"Most of our work is in Blefuscu," Sam reminded them to avoid Dean throwing another tantrum. "It's different over there. We're more likely to set off another war if we go pushing at the wrong people."
The pointed way Sam put we're left it in no uncertain terms that he thought it was likely that Dean would be the one most likely to step on toes, but he planned on sticking by his older brother's side no matter what. The two Blefuscans were out of place in the Lilliputian port, and the fact that they had some locals helping them out was nothing short of a miracle.
"Well, it's not like we didn't learn anything," Minnie supplied. "That one guy said they sold the boat as soon as they could, so there might be, like, a record of where they're gonna be next."
Chase nodded, but smirked. "I'm surprised you noticed anything after you found that livestock pen."
Minnie crossed her arms and her optimistic expression turned into a sullen one. "I never get to see the new lambs before the auctions start. So what? I listen just fine."
Chase rolled his eyes but spared her further teasing. "Riiight. So we at least know there's one guy who talked to the guys that were on that ship. That's something, right?" He turned to Sam and Dean to watch for their confirmation.
"It's not nothing," Sam agreed.
"It's not much," Dean interrupted obstinately.
Sam whirled around on Dean. "Can you try being helpful for once?" he demanded, crossing his arms. "So far, we've seen no sign of attack. So there's still time."
For a minute, it looked like Dean would keep arguing for the sake of arguing, but then he sighed and looked away. "Right, once we talk to that guy, we can see if he remembers where they went and why no one else in the area interacted with the people from the ship. They can't just vanish into thin air."
“That’s the spirit, Dean!” Chase chirped, still all too unbothered by the seriousness of the situation. At least outwardly, he didn’t show signs of worry. After all, they were doing what they could, which was more than most people would be able to do. Having two monster hunters just wash up on Lilliput after some monsters snuck in was good luck, in his opinion.
Even if they weren’t the most enthused about their main mode of transportation while visiting.
Jacob could be seen a bit beyond the cluttered area at the edge of the harbor. He couldn’t sit down too close by; even when he was trying to make himself seem smaller, the giant took up too much space. Some of the warehouses framing the bustling area were too little to hold him.
Chase lightly tapped Dean’s arm with the back of his hand. “Whatcha say, ready to fly in style again?”
Lips flattened into a straight line, Dean didn’t deign to glance Chase’s way. “Style is not what I’d call it,” he grumbled as he accepted that as long as they were working with the Lilliputians, they’d have to deal with the giant that came with them.
Sam slapped Dean on the back, nearly throwing him forward. “C’mon, just imagine the stories you’ll have when we get back!”
“They’ll never believe us.”
Chase snickered. “What, they seriously haven’t started spreading the rumor around Blefuscu yet? You guys are behind!” He stepped forward as he spoke, paying little mind to the others with a goal in mind. With both hands cupped around his mouth, he let out a yell much louder than it seemed like such a frail person could produce. “Hey, Jake!”
The giant, sitting peacefully and staring over the bay, perked up and turned his head at the sound of his name. At first, he didn’t find the group among the clutter. When he zeroed in on them, a smile appeared on his face, all too easy to see from their vantage point.
The ground rumbled under their feet as he pushed himself up so he could kneel closer to the shipyard again. “Hey, guys,” he greeted. “Chase letcha get any work done?”
Dean glared. "Some," he said testily. The terse reply combined with his stiff body language showed that he was still just as uncomfortable with the giant close by. Giants weren't something that Blefuscans had ever adjusted to, and the concept of a friendly one was outside of Dean's realm of normal.
Sam hid a grin. "Chase is lucky Dean didn't pitch him off the docks," he commented dryly to help break up the tension around them. "But aside from that, we have a lead."
If Jacob noticed Dean’s demeanor, he didn’t do anything to draw attention to it. He was used to people in Lilliput giving him the side eye at least, and some of them still didn’t trust him at all. While it might be common knowledge that he wasn’t going to go on a rampage or anything, he was too big to ignore.
He leaned down just a little more, intrigued. “A lead? That’s great!”
Chase nodded. “Yeah, they sold their ship to some businessman, so he might know where they were going next! Wanna give us a ride to him?”
Jacob paused. He couldn’t help a glance at Sam and Dean to gauge what they thought of the idea, but then he glanced past the whole group to the city of tiny folk arrayed behind them. “What, like, into the city? Is that allowed?”
“It’s not in the middle of town or anything,” Chase hedged. “And it’s way faster if you get us there.”
“You’ll take any excuse, won’t ya,” Jacob muttered. He addressed Sam, who seemed to be the de facto leader of the small group of investigators. “You guys cool with that? I don’t mind if you wanna wander in without me.”
"We need to avoid wasting time," Sam said, sending Dean a chiding look. "Your help is appreciated."
"Whatever," Dean said. He stomped closer to Jacob, drawing himself up. "Let's get this show on the road, Gulliver!"
~~~
It didn't take long for everyone to file onto Jacob's hand once again, and it didn't take much more than that for him to wander to the edge of town closest to their next goal. Chase seemed to know where to find anybody in that city, despite it being much bigger compared to him. He never minded pointing Jacob in a direction, either.
Jacob needed more time to work up the courage to just walk in. He stood near one of the buildings on the outskirts, an area not walled in like the front of the city. The road would be just wide enough to accommodate him, but he wouldn't leave much room for anything else.
"Jake, I think I can see the guy's building from up here," Chase noted.
“Cool,” Jacob muttered. He didn’t even bother to hide his concern for what he was about to do, but he took the hint well enough. He took the first step into the city, past the edge of that nearest building, and almost expected a swarm of Lilliputians to emerge from around corners to scold him.
They didn’t, and that was promising.
He inched his way further in, ever mindful of the buildings on either side as he passed. Some people did lean out their windows to stare incredulously at them, and Chase took on the task of waving at them. Any disapproving look was deflected before long.
He was only a block away when a sharp, authoritative voice down below called up to him and he drew up short. Jacob had to shuffle one careful step backwards to see the tiny cop down there, hands on his hips and looking stern. The little guy had to tilt his head all the way back just to see Jacob’s face, but he didn’t let any intimidation get in the way.
“Just what do you think you’re doing, giant? You’re too dangerous for the streets!”
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winterscaptain · 4 years
Text
faith.
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
a/n: we start to heal, kids! if there’s interest, i’ll write up the outtakes (wink wink) from this and post it sometime soon. your feedback keeps me going - please tell me what you think! also, if you haven’t already check out the inspo blog for ajf! (here’s the nsfw one, too - but it's definitely 18+ only!)
reality check (part one) | unimaginable (part two)
words: 3.5k warnings: implied sex, language, miscarriage/pregnancy mention
summary: healing is bittersweet.
masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!
“Everything looks fine down here. Since it’s been about four days, your preliminary recovery is finished. The key now is to let your body rest and reset.” Brienne removes her gloves and tosses them in the trash. “You can try again in six weeks, if you want, but no penetrative sex for two full weeks.” She washes her hands and points at you, then Aaron, with wet hands. “I mean it.” 
You share a look with Aaron while Brienne turns around for paper towels. His lips quirk into a wry, almost sheepish, smile.
Turning back to her, you ask, “Is there anything I should look out for or do differently or anything?”
Please tell me there’s something I can control. 
She shakes her head. “You’re doing everything perfectly. Keep an eye out for any heavy bleeding or anything that doesn't feel quite right in the next couple of weeks.” A warm hand lands on your shoulder and another reaches across you for Aaron, who stands and meets her in the middle, capturing her fingers in his palm. “I have faith in you both. I know this one was a little unexpected on all fronts, but if you want to do this for real, I will make sure I’m doing everything in my power to give you all the support and resources I can.” 
Aaron’s brown eyes are soft and grateful under his knit brow. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it.” 
She snorts and squeezes his hand before letting him go. “Oh, Aaron. I have a feeling you and I will know each other for a long time - Brienne is just fine.”
+++
Aaron slides into bed beside you and wraps you up in his arms. “Hey.” 
“Hi.” You lace your fingers between his where his hand rests across your abdomen. “How’re you doin’?”
“I should ask you the same thing.” 
You turn in his arms, and he gathers you to his chest while you throw one leg over his hip and wiggle the other between his thighs. You just want to be as close as possible to soothe the ache in your chest - it’s working. “I’m okay. My bits have stopped screaming at me, so that’s an improvement.” For now, you ignore the fact that he’s avoided your question. Sometimes it's easier to let Aaron think he’s won - for a while, at least. 
“Indeed, it is,” he says through a laugh. “I more so meant the other thing.” 
“What, like my emotional state?”
He shrugs around you. “Yeah, I guess.” 
“I feel like there should be...something to look forward to. There’s still a part of me that’s really excited, but there’s nothing to be excited about.” You shake your head, burrowing further into his chest. “It’s hard to explain.” 
His hand rubs up and down your spine, firm and slow. “Makes perfect sense. I think I’m right there with you.” 
It’s quiet for a moment. 
“I’m so sorry, Aaron.” 
You can feel him shake his head and he scoots impossibly closer to you. There can’t be a single inch of skin he isn't touching, or at least that’s what it feels like. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. Nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes, things just happen.” 
Your eyes close, exhausted, and you push back the thoughts that have been swirling around in your head for the last three days. 
Yeah, sometimes things just happen. Getting stabbed nine times in your home by a career serial killer? Just happens. Your wife getting murdered by that same serial killer, perhaps? Yeah, that just happens. Or maybe your best friend ‘dying’ and then coming back to life? Sure. 
Maybe a couple massive losses in a couple horrible years just aren’t enough. 
What’s next? 
I’ll take ‘Losing a Kid for 1600, Alex.’
“Hey.” He taps the middle of your back with his hand to get your attention. “I can hear you thinking.” 
You grumble, “Sorry,” and turn over, your back pressed firmly to his chest. 
“We’re okay, sweetheart. We’re fine. Jack is healthy, you’re healthy, I’m healthy. We’re getting married.” You snort, and he laughs. “Alright. We’re getting married...eventually.” That gets a giggle out of you, and he continues. “We’re looking for a house we can actually afford because of our fulfilling and important jobs. We have one fantastic son already.” He kisses your shoulder. “We’re in good shape.”
Well, when he puts it that way…
He pulls you close, nuzzling into your neck and running fingers up your ticklish sides. You squirm and a little peal of laughter leaves you. “I’ve got you on all of those, don’t I?”
You roll your eyes, and you know he saw it in the mirrored closet doors on the wall across from you. “If you think I’m going to argue with the youngest AUSA in District history, you’re nuts.” 
A satisfied hum leaves him, and he slips his hand under your shirt, tracing over your skin. “That’s probably a good idea.” Kisses find their way across your shoulders as his hands hike your shirt farther up your body. 
“Aaron,” you whine. “Brienne said no sex.” 
You watch him deliberate in the mirror, making play at deep thought. “...No. She said no penetrative sex, if my memory serves.” His hands wander down to the edge of your underwear and you squirm against him despite yourself. He drops his lips to the sensitive skin behind your ear, making you shiver when he whispers, “And my memory always serves.”
“Damn you.” 
He grins and ducks under the covers, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he settles between your thighs.
+++
The following Monday is your first day back at work, and it’s more than a little difficult to be normal. Aaron had only taken the day after to make sure he was available to drive you to and from Brienne’s office for your procedure, but you’d taken the rest of the week. You’re not sure what Aaron told them - maybe a flu or a stomach bug or maybe you “just needed some personal time” - but you imagined everyone would ask you about it anyways. 
Aaron presses a kiss to your cheek before the elevator opens. You make sure you’re watching when he falls into Hotch Mode as the doors part before you. It’s difficult to hold back your fond smile, but you manage. 
You set your things down at your desk, noting the small purple orchid and note sitting by your desktop. JJ turns in her chair to face you. “Hey! How was your visit with Dean?” 
Oh. That works. Good one, Aaron.
Dean had moved to New York to start with a new brokerage house at the beginning of last summer, and you’d been meaning to get up there to see him. It’s a highly plausible lie. It also helps that Aaron could sell water to a fish. 
Well, he is a lawyer. 
“It was great. Nice to take some time, you know?” You smile at her and you’re sure it doesn’t look quite right when her eyes narrow just a touch. Settling at your desk, you pick up the note addressed to you and open it. 
A flower for my flower :) I know. I’m gross. Sue me. 
(Or don’t...I’ll use my J.D. if you do.)
I love you. - AH
p.s. Don’t worry - I’ll water it when you're away. 
“Conference room in five minutes - Garcia’s got something for us.” Emily strides past you all on the bridge and you grab your tablet. 
Derek offers you a hand and you take it, tucking yourself under his arm as you walk. “What’s the orchid for?”
You shrug, covering how touched you really are by the gesture. “I dunno. I guess we just have a very thoughtful section chief.” 
+++
Inspired by Aaron’s cover story, you give Dean a call when you make it back to the hotel that night after an exhausting day scouting crime scenes that have every indication of a serial killer running rampant through the tiny Maine township.
“Hey babes! How are ya?” His chirp comes singing through the phone, and you find yourself smiling. 
“I’m alright.” 
You can almost hear his eyebrows raise. “Nope. Bullshit. What’s wrong with you?”
“Well, if anyone asks, I just got home from visiting with you for the week.” You start to unpack your go bag, hanging up a couple of your nicer work sets and setting up the bathroom the way you like it. 
“What’s Aaron lying about this time?” 
You laugh, but it tapers off quickly. “Well, as it happens, we had a really shit week last week and I had to take some time off.” 
He’s far more solemn when he speaks again, “That sounds like a little more than a ‘I got a flat tire on my way to work and my coffee was cold’ kind of shit week if you actually took time off.” He pauses. “Oh please don’t tell me you broke off the engagement.” 
“Not at all, not at all. Aaron and I are fine, but…” Going back and forth for a moment, you ultimately decide to tell him. Maybe it will get easier if you say it out loud. “I, um. I miscarried last week.” You’re proud of yourself for spitting it out with only a little stumbling, and Dean’s immediate concern brings tears to your eyes. 
“Oh God, honey. I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it at all?”
“I mean -” you take a deep breath. “No? I don’t know. I feel really shitty about it and we talked to Aaron’s mom and I know it isn’t my fault, but -” You huff, getting a little frustrated. “It was a girl, Dean. Aaron was so excited.” 
Something creaks in the background, and you know he’s just settled into the ancient armchair in the corner of his studio. “Don’t forget babe, you were excited, too. This isn’t just disappointing for Aaron, as much as you’d like to make everything about him.” 
You chew on the inside of your cheek. He’s right. “I know, but -”
“No! No buts. This is a loss for both of you, and it's huge. Like, I dunno why people don’t talk about it more. Your kid is your kid is your kid if you wanted them and they didn’t make it. It doesn’t matter if you met her or not - you knew her and she was yours.” 
So, maybe the tears weren’t finished. Dean stops talking for a minute, and you know he can hear you sniffling. 
“Are you going to try again?”
And isn’t that the question of the hour?
“Well, we didn’t really try for this one, but I think we’ve caught the bug. I was planning on talking to Aaron about it a little more when I get home -”
“What’s the case?”
“Maine, probably a serial killer,” you answer promptly, getting right back on track. You’re used to Dean’s quick interruptions. Context is important to him and you’re always happy to provide it. “I don’t think we’re going to try, per se, but I don’t think we’ll be too concerned about being careful either. That way it’s a pleasant surprise instead of something stressful or disappointing, you know?”
“Ah,” he says. “A ‘fuck it and forget it’ approach. I dig it. And we all know Aaron can ‘fuck it’ with the best of them - you’ll have to tell me how the ‘forgetting it’ part goes.”
You laugh despite yourself, wiping at your cheeks. “How do you always manage to make me laugh?”
His laugh sounds from the other side of the phone, and it warms you from your fingers to your toes. You can almost forget its nearly five below zero outside. “What can I say? Laughter is the virtue of the gays.”
Your phone beeps at you, and it’s Aaron. “Hey Beanie, I gotta let you go. Aaron’s beeping in on me.” 
“Go get your tub’a humbus, babe. I’ll talk to you later.”
You switch calls, and raise the phone back to your ear. “Hey, love. What’s goin’ on?”
“I just missed you.” You can hear the sink in the background and you check the clock. 
Ah yes, dishes before bed because someone can’t sleep if there are dishes in the sink. 
“Hi!” Jack shouts from across the kitchen, and it makes you smile. “I miss you!”
“I miss you too, my loves! Though, Aaron, I must say -” you stop yourself. “Am I on speaker?” 
There’s a shuffle, and his voice sounds a lot closer when he replies. “Not anymore.” You know he’s smiling. 
You laugh. “I was going to say, it’s a lot easier to abide by our no-contact order when I’m five states away.”
“Don’t remind me.” You can’t see him, but he sounds at least a little pained. “We’ll be almost done with that by the time you get home, which is nice.” 
“Very nice, indeed.” Settling into bed, you pull the covers up to your chin. “I wish you were here with me.” 
You can hear him walk through the house, getting some distance from Jack. “Yeah?”
“Mhmm. As nice as your new digs are, Chief Hotchner, sleeping without you when I’m on cases is really rough.” A light laugh leaves you. “I still haven’t gotten used to it.” 
He hums. “Well, I’ll make it worth your while when you get home, how’s that?”
“I’ll hold you to it,” you say with a smile. “Goodnight. I love you.” 
“Get some rest. I love you more.” 
+++
Your first hunch was right - serial killer with a preference for blonde women in their forties. Luckily, those factors alone made for a nice, neat, narrow profile, and you were down to a small pool of suspects within days. 
It’s safe to say your heart isn’t in it. You’re almost relieved when JJ calls you out on the way to the medical examiner’s office.
“What’s going on with you and Aaron?” Her bright blue eyes stay on the road as she speaks, but you know she’s completely tuned into you. “You guys seem...off.” 
“We’re fine - the two of us, I mean.” You’re not sure how much to want to tell her. She isn’t Dean. You have to work with her every day, and as much as she’s your friend, it’s hard to talk about this when she already has a son of her own and another on the way. “There’s just, um, some stuff going on at home.”
She reaches across the console and takes your hand. “Whatever it is,” and she sounds like she knows. “You’re not alone.” 
You look over at her and squeeze her hand. There’s something mournful and heartbreaking about the set of her mouth, and something cold and sympathetic washes over you. “Really?”
She nods. “Ours was a girl.” Her confession is quiet and her eyes never once flicker from the road. 
Your voice is just as quiet, almost a secret. “Ours, too.” 
+++
Aaron’s waiting for you in the bullpen when you land in the afternoon two days later. Without shame, you sail through the glass doors and into his arms. It’s a treat - you never feel like you’re truly home until he’s holding you, and you usually have to wait until you get home. 
Derek teases you both on his way back to his desk, and you flip him off. Everyone’s in high spirits and you’re surprised their good moods have rubbed off on you, as well. 
Emily releases you all early with the promise you’ll have your after action reports into her by tomorrow afternoon. On the way home, you tell Aaron about your conversation with JJ, and he’s so moved by it, you’re almost brought to tears again. 
+++
The next morning, Aaron leaves early for a meeting at headquarters in DC. He kisses you goodbye, and in your half-asleep state you grab his tie and make an attempt to keep him right where he is. 
It doesn’t work, but you’re rewarded with a couple extra seconds of adoration, even with your morning breath. He chuckles against your mouth. 
“I gotta go, baby.” 
You whine incoherently at him, but he dodges your reaching hands and  whispers close to your ear as he brings the covers up over your shoulder. “You have another hour before you need to be up. Sleep. I love you.” Another kiss presses into your temple, and you hear the bedroom door close softly behind him. 
When another hour lapses (during which you dozed, quite thankful he told you to get some more sleep), you rise and get ready to head into the office. Jack’s up and getting dressed in his room while you get started in the kitchen. 
But, of course, there’s no need. Aaron has a breakfast spread ready and covered on the counter, with coffee just finished in the percolator. 
A god among men…
You pull your favorites from the pile, and set aside a few things for Jack. This cut your prep time in half at least, so you’ll have a little more time to eat and get settled before you have to be out the door. 
Assembling breakfast is easy, and you and Jack share space in relative silence. He looks up at you over his eggs and grins. Oh, how you love that boy. 
+++
When you get into the office, JJ’s reading a note, a little white envelope tucked behind it. You’re the first two in the office - a shocker, considering the two children between you, both under the age of ten. 
“What have you got there?”
She looks up and you can tell her eyes are a little misty. “Just a really sweet note someone left on my desk.” Waving it in the air, she asks, “Want to read it?”
You smile, setting your things down. “Only if you want me to.” 
She hands it over, and you take it, immediately recognizing Aaron’s handwriting. 
JJ- 
I wish we didn’t know the same loss, but I’m selfishly glad it’s you. Thank you for taking care of us so well. 
As always, anything for you. Just say the word. 
  AH
 “You know,” JJ says as you hand the note back to her. “He wasn’t like this before you.” 
You snort. “Don’t I know it.” 
“No, I’m serious. Even before you guys got together, you made him better. This -” she holds the note up and flicks it, “never would have happened eight years ago.” 
+++
By the time the next case is solved and everyone comes home, Brienne’s orders have expired. Jack is long asleep and you find Aaron in his office. His head is propped up on his hand, elbow on his desk, as he reads over some esoteric legal decision he’s decided to research as a hobby. 
Like he’s not busy enough. 
In fairness, he did defend his newest activity over dinner a few weeks ago. 
“What else am I supposed to do after Jack’s asleep and you’re out on a case? Watch TV? Go to bed early? No, I’m going to review legal decisions and take notes so I don’t bore you to death when you get home.”
“Aaron, you could never bore me to death.” 
“I wouldn’t take that bet.” 
He looks over his reading glasses, and his eyes light up. “Welcome home.” 
You offer him a warm smile as you cross his office and round his desk. “Hi.” 
Aaron drops his pen and pulls you close by your hips, and you lean on the side of his chair. “How was the case?”
“I would hate to spoil Emily’s report that will inevitably be about three hours late getting to your desk on Tuesday.” 
He raises his eyebrows. “I see.” His hand drops down to the outside of your thigh, and you swing a leg over his chair to straddle him, getting situated on his lap. “You know, I still have work to do.” 
“What? Is this Supreme Court decision more interesting than me?”
He shrugs, leaning forward again and picking up his file. His chin hooks over your shoulder, and you settle against his chest as he continues to read. With a sigh, he says, “You’re wearing an awful lot of clothes for someone who wants something specific.” 
You huff. “Oh, c’mon. It’s not like I’m getting any in here.” 
“You don’t know that.” His voice is even, almost distracted, but when you shift over him you can tell he’s affected. “Something might surprise you.” 
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
He takes another breath and, just like he’s done so many times before, says, “Sweetheart, I’m not suggesting anything.” 
+++
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Getting back at writing, is, well, hard. My grammar and vocabulary and basically everything is messed up so I apologize in advance for that. It's been, almost a year ever since my last written fic. That time I was still crazy with Kimetsu no Yaiba and the KyoTan ship. I'll post it some other time ^^.
Anyways, I present to you my attempt in making a plotted work from a random thought that came over me this morning.
Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)
Warnings: Basically none. Except for some curse words.
UD 01/10/21: Cleaned and revised some parts! Tried my best, hope it was enough.
Of Ice and Blood
Part 1
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Quick backstory and some details I left out in the main work.
It was in summer, 28th of July, when Pearl Blackbell turned 19. She left her home and moved closer to the university she’ll be going to. She rented an apartment about five blocks from the school. Albeit small, it was cozy and proper, having what she needed: a kitchen, a decent-sized bedroom, a small living area with a worn but comfy couch, and a bathroom.
When she was younger, her parents started training her in martial arts and the use self-defense weapons. They needed to make sure she knew how to protect herself against assaulters and dangerous people, she was after all, their only child and baby girl . They want their daughter to be strong, both inside and outside, by the time she sets out on her own and leaves home.
Her favorite self-defense weapon was brass knuckles, despite her parents’ protests. She enjoys punching nasty people and feel the crunch of their bones beneath her fists, especially racists, sexists, bullies, and the lot. The main reason why she got into detention multiple times.
Painting it with a ruddy color, she keeps it in her person, no matter where she goes. She has two, one is for extreme situations, while the other has only two knuckles. It stills maximizes the damage dealt but it is relatively less dangerous than the full dusters. The second one is usually a spare, though she rarely uses it.
She also occasionally carries a pair of retractable nunchucks, which she designed to be hidden within her regular baggy clothes. Her father had trained her vigorously with them and she even bested him in a match before she left for the city.
Selkoth, the city of marvels.
Distant sounds of buzzing cars reached my ears as I opened my eyes and blinked away the sleepiness, the light shining from the spaces in my curtains rather helping, together with the warmth it brought to my chilled tawny skin.
[Start of the actual work]
I fully woke up as I registered the sound of my phone alarm, shortly getting up to prepare when I realized what day it was.
Monday, the first day of my college life.
I stepped into the bathroom and took a quick shower, knowing I bathed thoroughly last night to save some time today.
Time management is key.
I dried myself down, turned to my closet and started putting on the outfit I picked out the night before.
Prioritizing comfortability over appearance, I wore my favorite orange cotton shirt, my blackish-blue hoodie (that had been stained with blood some time ago, but don’t worry, I know how to clean out blood. Mama raised no fool.) over it, together with a pair of black skinny jeans. And of course, tight black sports bra and boxers, even mentioning my underwear yes?
I looked over to my mirror and it was—
Simple. And I loved it. The more simple it is the better.
'“Keep a low profile over there, sweetie. Don’t get into fights when you can help it okay??? We already taught you and prepared you to the best of our abilities. Promise to us that you’ll stay safe, and healthy. Okay? And don’t forget to call sometime.”' I sighed, remembering my mother’s words.
"Yes mama, I will.”
With a smile, I did my hair and went for a tight Dutch braid, it going down between my shoulder blades and ending a little above my waist. I ran to my kitchen to eat breakfast, satisfied with my look.
I eat fast okay
Backpack, check. White sneakers, check. Phone and keys, check. Airpods on, playlist shuffled, I bolted out of my apartment and jogged all 50 blocks to school.
Exercise is always important, and what other way to utilize time for exercising than to do it while heading to your destination, right?
I snickered.
As I made my way to the university, I saw bizarre creatures and monsters of different sizes, coexisting, and interacting with humans. Even so, I noticed other people’s disdain and bitterness towards them when I passed by. My nose is awfully sensitive to scents that sometimes the ones their body releases tells me what they feel at the moment. It’s all science, I guess. I was made extra susceptible to these, so I wear a mask everywhere and every time I go out just to partly block most of the smells.
My first day at a university open to everyone across the country gets my blood pumping with excitement. To think that I’m going to study at Ernestine State University, the Ernestine State University!
I first heard about the uni back when I was a child. News broke out about Victor Ernestine, committing suicide by driving his car off a cliff because he couldn’t accept that his daughter was one of the major leaders who made the unity of all people, of all races, possible.
Dramatic.
Months after Mr. Ernestine died, all his properties and riches were passed down to her daughter, who took over as the new founder of the university and rebuilt it to accommodate everyone, no matter the size and shape.
The strictly all-human school, renovated, reshaped, and repurposed, was now the first university to open its gates to everyone in the country of Yundomia.
I’ve always yearned to get to know other species in this world. I didn’t get the chance previously because my parents sent me to an all-human, local high school. Which sucks. I hated how everyone had a certain hatred for the other races, especially orcs. They keep talking about how they are wild beasts and savages that aren’t meant to be in society.
They treated them like animals that are void of emotions and intelligence.
Come to think of it, I mostly fought with humans who were either racist, bullies, bastards trying to hit on me, or a mix of all of them together.
I chuckled, remembering how many times I got counseled on not punching people in the face.
High school was pure torture, being a human-exclusive campus making it worse, considering how everybody smells so horrible and the principal was an egoistic dumbass I was a hair away from gutting him. My poor nose.
But now I’m done with that! I’m starting anew in this school, in this city. Perhaps make some friends along the way.
Which is kinda problematic.
I’m not the social type. I tend to keep things to myself and hardly open up to anybody. I wanna make at least one friend that isn’t human! Or just, one good friend. I didn’t have or made any friends in the past since people tend to shun me out just because I can tell how they are feeling and find it creepy.
Or they’re afraid to get punched in the face.
Entering the campus gates was like stepping into another world. I was met with the sight of humans and monsters walking together and conversing! It was nice, and I don’t get to see this much often.
I walked around and took in the landscape of the campus. It was huge! And beautifully designed to have a great number of trees and plants, while also having space more than enough to accommodate every student going to their respective classrooms.
I was minding my own business and it was all serene, until some bastards pushed past through me and knocking me to the side. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I was gonna say something, but I shut my mouth. I didn’t want to cause any trouble on the first day for goodness’ sake. So I brushed it off and went straight to the gym for the orientation.
*************************************
The orientation was, intriguing. The dean seems nice, though I couldn't smell him from where I sat. There's also a student council made up of both humans and monsters which is a good sign. The student council president was a Minotaur with a dark brown coat and horns curving front and pointing up. The vice-president was a male student who looked decent enough. The secretary was an elf. The treasurer, a dwarf. And the rest were humans. I couldn't scent any of them to tell me what they were feeling at the moment, but the Minotaur looked uncomfortable, his hands behind his back, body going stiff when they were introduced to the freshmen. There was a larger numbr of humans than monsters, which was expected. I also noticed how both were grouped, a white line in the middle of the gym separating us from them.
Maybe to avoid any misunderstandings?
We were informed that today will be for introductions to your classmates and subject teachers so there will be no lessons at all. Hooray!
I was walking to my first classroom when a damned familiar smell attacked my nose. I stopped to stand for a moment and adjusted my mask. I looked around to spot the one emitting it and of course, saw a human. He looked, well, the typical playboy cool boy who used too much body spray on himself.
Not wanting to stand there like an idiot and prolong my suffering, I speed walk to my classroom and planned to sit at the back hoping no one would notice or ask why I’m wearing a mask.
That's always what they ask first. Not my name or how I was doing.
I expected to find no one inside since it was still early, but I was startled to see a massive orc sitting at the back looking out at the window. He was wearing a dark gray knitted sweater that was hugging his hulking frame very…well. Along with what looked like thick cargo pants and black boots.
He turned to look at me when I let out a small yelp, greeting me with his piercing, blue eyes.
Beautiful.
The orc had long, braided, jet-black locks. Two of them had distinct beads that trailed down from the side of his face and down to his chest, the rest of his hair behind him braided with intricacy and tied and ended halfway down his back.
I was pushed out of my trance when a person entered and crashed into me, swearing under my breath that it was intentional, nearly making me plant face-first on the trash bins if I hadn’t changed my footing at the last moment.
“Watch it, bitch, you’re gonna ruin my make-up,” she snapped.
Wow. She dared to call me that and not apologize like I’m the one who shoved her. Just wow. Usually at this point, I would have planted her face on the floor, but I stopped myself.
Low profile! Low profile Pearl! You’re in college now! You definitely don’t want to get suspended on the first fucking day of class now do you?? Keep it together.
Straightening up, I walked towards the back and sat beside the orc. Whose gaze fell on me, curious, when I wasn’t looking.
I made myself settled in my seat before the professor came in.
There were other races in my class. A blue tiefling sat three rows in front, wearing a casual outfit. A black-haired elf who looked and dressed clever, a row away. A cute pink pixie on my far right. A satyr wearing glasses, two seats in front of me, and a female lizardfolk a seat from of the pixie.
"Are you...alright?"
I almost jumped from my seat when the orc beside me spoke. I couldn’t help but admire how deep his voice was. I tried not to appear flustered, my mask helped with that.
“Uh…yes?”
The orc regarded me for a second before continuing.
“You were pushed earlier.”
Oh. He saw that?
“Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” I smiled at him. Then I remembered he can’t see my face. But I hoped the crinkling of my eyes gave it away.
“I’m Pearl, by the way.” I reached out my hand to him, socializing not my best suit but at least I tried.
He paused for a second before taking it into his bigger one, engulfing mine and shook it slowly. I was again, surprised by how gentle he was.
“Tai'chi.”
Interesting.
“Nice to meet you, Tai'chi.”
He lets go of my hand when the professor started talking up front.
“Nice to meet you too, Pearl."
***************************************
Thoughts? I am wide open for constructive criticism :D
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expectingtofly · 4 years
Text
Relief
dean/cas fic
3k
also posted on ao3
“Dean? Dean! Can you hear me?”
Dean slowly came to, his head pounding. Disoriented, he opened his eyes and saw only blurry shapes, blinked and realized Castiel and Sam were crowded above him.
“What—?” he tried to ask.
“Thank goodness,” Castiel breathed. He was clutching at Dean's face, his palms warm, and Dean felt his face redden at the attention. "You were out for so long—" Seeming to come to himself, he pulled his hands away from Dean's face.
Dean looked around, trying to get his bearings. Trees... nighttime... they had found a vampire nest, way more vampires than they had expected...
“Is it over, did we kill them?” Dean tried to sit up.
“Woah, take it easy, Dean.” Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “They’re all dead.”
“What happened?” Dean asked, letting his head drop back on the ground.
“You’re an idiot, is what happened,” Castiel answered. “You went after three vampires at once, we told you to wait for us—”
“Alright, alright,” Dean protested, trying to wave Castiel off. His hand felt too heavy and he let it drop at his side. It was coming back to him. Not the smartest choice he’d ever made, but it had turned out well enough—he was alive wasn’t he? He saw the worry in Sam and Castiel’s eyes and decided to keep that thought to himself.
“Dean, you can’t keep doing this,” Castiel said and, shit, how long had he been out? Were those tears in Castiel’s eyes? “You could’ve been killed.”
“I know.” He realized Castiel was clinging to his hand. “I’m sorry,” he added for appearances’ sake and squeezed Castiel’s hand. “I’m alright, though. I’ll live.”
Castiel’s eyes softened and Dean’s skin warmed at the look in his eyes. To be honest, Castiel gazing at him always set his heart pounding, but there was something else in Castiel’s eyes now. A mixture of deep relief and something else—Dean hoped it wasn’t angelic fury directed at him for once again nearly getting himself killed. But before he could move, or speak to defend himself, Castiel leaned down and kissed him on the lips.
Dean froze, instantly too aware of everything—the cold, hard packed ground under him, Sam’s presence next to him, his hand still wrapped in Castiel’s.
Castiel pulled back. The soft look in his eyes was gone, replaced with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He trailed off, his eyes searching Dean’s face.
Dean could only stare up at him. He finally kissed me. He kissed me? What the hell?
Castiel pulled his hand from Dean’s, and Dean blinked, startled out of his dazed thoughts. His heart sank when Castiel dropped his eyes to the ground.
Sam cleared his throat. “Um, alright,” he said. “Come on, Cas, help me get him up. He’s still out of it.”
“I’m fine,” Dean said, pulling his eyes from Castiel and forcing himself to speak. “I can get up on my own.” Sam wouldn't hear any of it, already grabbing his arm to help him to his feet. The forest tipped wildly when he was upright, and Sam wrapped an arm around his waist to support him. They walked back to the main road slowly, Castiel following behind. He reached out once to touch Dean's arm, then dropped his hand. Dean couldn’t look at him.
“Backseat,” Sam said when they reached the Impala and Dean didn’t try to argue. He lay on the backseat and stared at Baby’s roof, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened. Was he still unconscious? Was he dreaming? But it had felt too real. He shut his eyes against the slow rocking of the car as Sam pulled onto the road.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” he heard Castiel say quietly in the front seat. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Don’t worry, Cas. It’s fine. He’ll come to his senses in a bit.”
“He’s angry with me."
I’m not, Dean thought.
“No, he’s not,” Sam answered, as if he’d heard Dean’s thoughts. “He’s just… confused.”
Confused? Dean thought harshly. Alright, maybe confused. Confused because he’d never dared to hope that Castiel liked him like that. Confused as to why he hadn’t been able to kiss him back.
When they reached the bunker, Dean insisted he could walk on his own, but Sam hovered nearby him anyway all the way to his room.
“I got it,” he said, pushing open Dean’s bedroom door before Dean could. Dean gave him a dirty look, but truth was, his brain felt like it was rattling around in his skull.
He sunk onto his bed and nodded at Sam. “I’m good.”
“Okay, um, get some rest.” Sam hesitated in the doorway and Dean stared at the floor. “Listen, about Cas—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He raised his head to look at Sam, daring him to say more.
Sam seemed to fight for words, but he only said, “Fine. But you’re gonna have to talk to him about it.”
He shut the door and Dean swore inwardly. Like hell he would.
Too tired to even kick off his boots, he lay back on the covers and stared at the ceiling. It was too much to think about.
*
He woke to his bedroom door creaking open. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Castiel peeking inside.
“I’m sorry.” Castiel stepped into the room. “Did I wake you?”
“No. Yeah. It’s fine.” Dean sat up slowly. Any dizziness had been replaced with a harsh pounding in his temple.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better.”
“I can help—” Castiel reached out two fingers and Dean shook his head, a movement he quickly regretted.
“Save your grace,” he managed. “I’m good.”
Castiel dropped his hand. Dean pressed the base of his palms to his eyes, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing now that Castiel was in his room. Man up, he told himself and looked at Castiel. He hadn’t turned off the light before falling asleep and it seemed too harsh now, making him squint. Castiel snapped his fingers and the room went dark.
“Thanks,” Dean said, the darkness easing the pounding behind his eyes.
Castiel nodded. It was easier to look at him now in the soft yellow light from the hallway, his face shaded in shadows. There was still blood on his trench coat. He was fiddling with his sleeves, a nervous, unfamiliar action. “Dean, I—”
“Did Sam call the police chief?” Dean interrupted. “Tell him about the bodies we found at the vamp nest?”
“Yes, he did.”
“That has to be one of the biggest nests I’ve seen in years.” He was rambling, hoping to stave off whatever apology or explanation Castiel was preparing to give.
“You should’ve been more careful,” Castiel admonished. Dean sighed in relief. This, he could handle. Bickering. “My grace isn’t as strong as it once was, I can’t even heal you fully now—”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Cas. I’m not your responsibility.”
The words sounded too harsh even as he spoke them. Castiel looked at the floor and Dean started to hate himself for always saying and doing the wrong things.
But when Castiel spoke, his voice was soft. “You once were, when I rescued you from hell.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“I still… care about you.”
Dean froze. Castiel took a step closer to him and his skin thrummed at the memory of the sensation of Castiel’s lips on his.
He crossed his arms. “Yeah, I know. We’re family, we have to care about each other.” He forced a laugh. “Bet you wish you’d never gotten involved with the Winchesters.”
“That’s not true,” Castiel replied. He opened his mouth to say more and Dean said,
“I’m tired, Cas.” He looked up at him and hoped Castiel understood. I don’t know what this means, I don’t know what to do.
Castiel’s shoulders slumped, but he only nodded and turned to leave. At the doorway he paused, and Dean’s heart sped up, then Castiel left and shut the door behind him.
For the second time that day, Dean stared at the ceiling and felt miserable.
He could walk into a vampire nest and never flinch, but let one angel kiss him and he went into shock. He wasn’t angry that Castiel kissed him—in reality, he’d imagined it plenty. Came so close as to wish it would happen. But he never thought he’d be so lucky. Didn’t dare believe Castiel felt the same way towards him—even if Sam always was telling him to get his head out of his ass and look at the signs.
How long have you felt this way? he wanted to ask Castiel. Did it happen when you walked into that barn, the first time I saw your face? He knew that’s when it had happened for him—he’d stared into two gorgeous, blue eyes and had known he was irrevocably screwed.
Why hadn’t he ever taken the plunge and admitted his true feelings to Castiel? Maybe because he was more of a coward than he wanted to admit. Maybe because he was scared Castiel would reject him. Maybe because he was scared Castiel wouldn’t reject him. Because if for once he got to be happy, then what? He knew well enough what it meant to love someone in the life he led. How every evil force in the world tried to use the people he loved against him.
Sam was the one person that Dean would throw the world away for—and it was only right, Sam was his younger brother, Dean had to take care of him. But he couldn’t afford to love someone else that much. So many times he had lost Castiel, and he’d never known how to bear it. If he couldn’t do it when he called Castiel a friend, how could he ever bear to lose him if they had something more?
*
By the next day he was back in fighting shape, or at least that’s what he told Sam to convince him he could drive. Castiel was gone; Sam said he had angel business to attend to. Dean thought that was for the better. He spent several hours driving Baby aimlessly, focusing on the lines of the road and not at all the memory of Castiel kissing him, or the disappointment in his eyes when Dean didn’t kiss him back.
It wasn’t a great distraction, but it was better than staying in the bunker where Sam eyed him constantly and Dean grew tense, afraid Castiel would return without warning.
“Alright, this has gone on long enough,” Sam said a week later when Dean stood up from the map table, announcing he was going for yet another drive.
Dean paused, half out of his seat. “What?”
Sam gestured to him. “You, moping around.”
“I’m not moping,” Dean protested.
“I thought you liked Cas. Like, really liked him.”
Of course Sam would get straight to the point. Dean sat back down and shrugged.
“Cut the bullshit, Dean. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know!” Dean threw up his hands. “Ask Cas. He’s the one who started this whole fucking mess.”
“You know, I really thought that you two were finally gonna put a stop to all the pining and staring and longing—”
“Okay, shut up,” Dean said. “It isn’t like that.”
“Then what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know!” Sam watched him and Dean huffed. “I don’t know. I, I panicked.”
“You hurt his feelings. You wouldn’t even talk to him after.”
“It’s better this way. Less feelings involved, less chances of people getting hurt.”
“You really think it works that way?” Sam leaned forward. “Dean, whether you own up to it and tell Cas or not, you’re still in love with him.”
Love? Dean started to protest again, but Sam cut him off. “Stop torturing yourself, Dean. You finally have something good coming your way and you won’t take it. This life we live… you never know what’s gonna happen. When our luck’s gonna run out. You gotta take any chance you get, right?”
It seemed Castiel felt that way. He’d taken a big chance. And yeah, Dean felt miserable for crushing his dreams. For crushing his own dreams. But it had to be done.
“That’s the point,” Dean said. Pushing back his chair, he stood. “I might die tomorrow, Cas might die tomorrow. Better for us both if we don’t get too attached.” He walked away before Sam could try and argue with him further.
*
Two more weeks passed before he saw Castiel again. Despite everything, he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at the familiar whoosh of wings when Castiel appeared in the bunker’s garage, startling him and Sam as they prepared to go after a werewolf pack. It seemed like years since he saw him last.
Castiel wavered a little and put a hand on the Impala to steady himself. “You alright?” Sam asked.
Castiel nodded. “I’m afraid flying takes a lot out of me.” He glanced at Dean, and Dean quickly looked away. He listened to Castiel update Sam on the angels, though the blood pounding in his ears made it hard to hear. He hadn’t realized it’d be so hard to see Castiel again. Everything in him told him to fix things between them. But how? If he was lucky, with enough time, they could go back to how things used to be. Not that things had ever been simple between them.
Sam explained to Castiel where they were going and Dean tuned back into their conversation.
“I’ll come with you,” Castiel offered, still not looking at Dean.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Dean slammed the trunk shut. “Let’s go.”
For once, Dean was happy to see a pack of werewolves because it meant he could focus on the fight and not Castiel’s presence by his side. He lost himself in felling the werewolves and only when the last one crashed to the ground did he register sounds of struggle behind him. Whipping around, he saw Castiel across the room fighting off two werewolves. At any other time, it would’ve been no contest, but Castiel seemed dazed and weakened. He fell to the ground and one werewolf leapt at him.
“Cas!” Dean yelled and started running. The other werewolf turned and snarled at him. Dean shot her in the head, bringing her to the ground. Grabbing the werewolf crouched over Castiel, he threw him aside and shot him in the heart.
“Fuck, Cas,” he swore, turning back to him. “You stupid—” His words caught in his throat.
Castiel lay sprawled on the ground, his eyes shut and his waist covered in blood. "No, no, no." Dean dropped down next to him. Castiel’s head lolled to the side and Dean grabbed his face. “No, come on, Cas, wake up, please!”
“What happened?” Sam yelled, running over and skidding to a stop.
“One of them got him, he couldn’t fight them off.” Dean pushed Castiel’s trench coat aside to reveal a deep gash on his stomach. “I tried to get to him—”
“He’ll be okay, Dean, he still has his grace.” Sam’s words rang meaningless in his ears as Dean stared at Castiel’s waxen face. No, not like this, not now.
Blood continued to pour from Castiel’s wound, snapping him out of his stunned daze. He put pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, his stomach turning. “Please, Cas,” he begged. His words turned into a prayer, repeated over and over in his head almost unconsciously. Please, I love you, please.
Then Castiel’s eyes opened.
Dean could’ve cried from relief. He swore instead, sitting back, his hands shaking.
“Hold on, Cas,” Sam said, stopping him before he could move. "You're hurt." Castiel looked down at his side. Feebly, he lifted his hand over his wound and healed himself. Dean watched the gash knit itself together, leaving behind bloody smears.
Dropping his hand, Castiel let Sam help him sit up. He looked around at the dead werewolves, and Dean tried to catch his breath.
“Cas, you son of a bitch, you should’ve told us, about your grace—” His voice shook and he cut himself off.
Castiel looked at him, then dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was so weak, I thought I could—”
Suddenly, Dean didn’t care about any explanation. Reaching out, he grabbed Castiel and clutched him close to his chest. He buried his face in Castiel’s shoulder, gripping his trench coat, and tried to focus on the fact that Castiel was breathing, that he was alive, that he hadn’t lost him.
He felt Castiel’s hand rest hesitantly on his back. He clenched his eyes shut.
Sam had been right. Whether he told Castiel or not, Dean was in love with him. He could either refuse to let himself feel that way—he’d tried for so many years—or finally own up to it and tell Castiel, and maybe even find out his feelings were reciprocated.
Either way, he cared about Castiel, and either way it would hurt like hell if he ever lost him. There was no escaping it.
Consequences be damned, he let go of Castiel enough to pull back and look in his eyes. Then he kissed him. For one heart-stopping moment, he feared Castiel would push him away, or simply freeze like he had done before. He’d deserve it. But then Castiel kissed him back, gripping his shoulder and Dean felt dizzy with relief.
When they pulled away, he searched Castiel’s face. He hated how guarded Castiel's eyes were, as if Castiel was afraid of what he would do now. Berate him, act as if this never happened.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he said. Castiel nodded, his eyes serious. “I’m sorry,” Dean said, and he meant it.
Castiel touched his face. “You should be.”
Dean let out a laugh and took Castiel’s hand in his own. “Yeah, I know.” He gazed at Castiel and the next words came easily. “I love you.”
Castiel’s face brightened, a smile spreading across his face. “I love you too,” he said.
“Fucking finally,” Sam muttered. Dean flipped him off, even though he was right, and helped Castiel stand.
“No more almost dying, alright?” he asked. His heart was still thudding in his chest.
Castiel still clung onto his hand. “I’ll only promise if you do too.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Castiel nodded, and Dean knew that they both knew they had no control over any of it, whether they lived or died. But for now, Castiel was alive and holding onto his hand, and Dean had finally said I love you, had heard the words repeated to him. He was certain of that much, and it was enough.
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dickspeightjrs · 4 years
Text
Reading is Fundamental (au / 4.3k words / single parent!dean / librarian!cas)
ao3 link
“Daddy, can you read this book to me?” Emma’s voice squeaked up from next to Dean. He turned to see her scrambling to sit on the chair next to him, slapping the book she’d chosen on top of the table. 
“Not right now, Em. I just need to finish these notes and then we can go home.” Dean tried to let her down gently, hoping somewhere in her little three year old brain she’d be able to understand. 
Emma nodded obediently at her dad but Dean could see the sadness and disappointment in her eyes. It made Dean feel like shit. Maybe going back to college was a bad idea. He didn’t need a fancy college degree, he could always just rise up through the ranks at the auto shop the long way. He was stretched thin and he knew it. 
Dean felt a little tug on his arm and his eyes met his daughter’s. “Daddy, please can I go look at more books?” Emma asked, so politely Dean could cry. She was so young, she wouldn’t understand all the stress Dean was under but her tiny smile and beautiful green eyes melted Dean’s heart every time. 
“Of course, baby. But don’t go too far so I can’t see you, okay?” 
Emma nodded enthusiastically and climbed down from her seat with a “Thanks, Daddy!” and she was gone, disappearing behind the bookshelves leading to the kids books. 
Dean allowed himself to get lost in his notes and textbooks once again, hoping he’d be able to get a little more done before the library closed. 
But it wasn’t even five minutes later when he looked up to check on Emma and saw her being carried towards him by one of the most beautiful people Dean had ever seen. But he couldn’t dwell too long on the man’s god-like looks because, as they got closer, Dean could see that Emma had tears in her eyes and blotchy red cheeks. 
Notes forgotten, Dean leapt from his chair to see his daughter. “Emma, what happened?” He asked as the man approached. 
Emma didn’t reply. Instead, she looked up at the sound of her dad’s voice and reached out to him. Dean accepted her into his arms and she immediately tucked her head into Dean’s neck. Dean stroked a comforting hand down his baby’s back and turned to the man still standing in front of him. He looked at him for an explanation. The man just had a warm look of fondness on his face and didn’t catch Dean’s questioning gaze straight away. 
Eventually, he caught Dean’s eye and seemed to snap back into himself. “Sorry,” he said. “She tripped on one of the mats in the children’s area. I saw it happen from where I was stacking shelves.” 
Now Dean looked properly he could actually see a name badge with the library logo on it. The badge said this guy was apparently called ‘Castiel’. Weird name.
“I checked she was alright.” Castiel continued. “She said her knees hurt but it looks like she got a little burn from the carpet. Just a bit of redness, no blood. After that she just asked for her dad.” 
Castiel smiled again at Emma until it seemed that a thought occurred to him. “Oh, and I did ask her permission before I carried her but in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have done because I don’t imagine she can give her own consent. And I am a stranger.” The guy was starting to look a little stressed. “I assure you my intentions were completely innocent, I just wanted her to be okay.”
Dean was quick to jump in then. “Woah, dude, don’t sweat it. Thanks for bringing her back over for me. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve been keeping a better eye on her, but I’m revising for exams and it’s kicking my ass.” He wiped his free hand down his face in exhaustion. “Normally, I do my college work at home but my neighbours have builders in and it’s so noisy.” 
Dean was fully aware he was giving the guy too much information. But he needed to make it clear that he wasn’t a shitty dad who let his kid run off on her own all the time. Plus, this guy seemed to have a kind face that made Dean want to spill all his darkest secrets and worries. 
“Well, there’s around half an hour until we close. If you still need to work a little more I can take Emma to choose out some books?” Castiel asked, tentatively gaging both Dean and Emma’s reactions. 
Dean jostled Emma slightly in his arms. “Would you like that, Em?” he murmured in a low voice. 
Still seemingly a little shy, Emma nodded and Dean let her down carefully onto the floor to find her feet. 
Castiel knelt down slowly in front of her. “Do you want to hold my hand, Emma?” he asked, holding a hand out for her to accept. 
“Okay.” Emma muttered, timidly. She took Castiel’s hand and let him lead her back to the children’s area. 
As they walked away, Dean could just hear Castiel whisper to her, “What kind of books do you like to read?” and Emma’s resulting shout of “Superheroes!” Dean winced at the volume of her voice, checking around to see if anyone was annoyed, but Castiel barely flinched. He just carried on talking to Emma and making her giggle. 
Their voices drifted away behind one of the shelves and Dean smiled to himself a little before returning to his work. 
Almost an hour later, Dean glanced at his watch and quickly began packing up his things. He hadn’t realised the time and was consciously aware of overstaying his welcome when the library should have closed already. 
He strode across the floor towards the kids area but found it empty and dark, clearly having already been closed for the night. He frowned wondering where Emma and Castiel had got to when he heard a familiar bubble of laughter coming from the main entrance. 
Sat behind the front desk, Castiel was showing Emma how to do something. 
“So after we’ve done that, we have to put a stamp in each of the books so people know what day they have to bring it back.” Castiel explained, pointing out the stamp page of a book in front of him. “Do you want to stamp the books you’re taking home?” 
Emma’s eyes lit up. Dean smiled affectionately at his daughter, she loved anything involving paint or ink. 
“Yeah!” 
Dean decided now would be the best time to come out of his hiding place. “What’s going on here then?” he asked, sauntering up to the desk with a grin on his face. It turned out Emma was sitting on an empty space on the desk, with Castiel perched on the chair. 
Castiel and Emma looked up at Dean’s voice. 
“Daddy!” Emma cheered. “I’m working at the library with Mr Cas!”
“That’s awesome, Em. But we gotta go now. The library is closing and we still haven’t had dinner.”
Emma pouted. Her bottom lip stuck out and Dean hated it. He could never say no to that face, but not even he had the power to keep the library open longer. Plus, Castiel, or ‘Cas’ it seemed, probably wanted to go home too. 
“It’s okay, Emma. You can come back tomorrow and help me. You did such a good job, I’d love to have your help again.” Castiel jumped in to reassure Emma. 
It definitely did the trick as Emma’s face immediately lit up and she leaned over to give Cas a hug. “Thank you, Mr Cas!” 
Once she let go of Castiel, Dean lifted her off the desk and into his arms. 
He made eye contact with Castiel and instantly felt awkward. This dude saved him from having a meltdown in the middle of the library. And his daughter seemed to have fallen in love with him. What’s Dean meant to say now? Castiel was just standing there with kindness glittering in his eyes. 
Dean cleared his throat. “Thanks, man. Y’know for earlier. And for keeping Emma occupied. I swear I don’t normally let her run-” 
Castiel raised his hand to stop Dean. “It was my pleasure.” 
Dean just nodded awkwardly and moved towards the exit with Emma still wrapped around him, the excitement of the day seeping from her tiny body and leaving her slumped against her dad. 
He spent the rest of the evening and much of the night thinking about dark hair and striking blue eyes. 
*  *  * 
It ended up being a few days later that Dean and Emma found themselves back at the library again. 
Emma hadn’t stopped asking and talking about Mr Cas. 
Mr freakin’ Perfect more like. 
Dean was sure he’d see the man again and realise he’d just let himself build up how great the man seemed. That Cas was actually just a normal dude doing his job. In fact, he’d probably forgotten all about Dean and his mischievous little girl. 
They walked through the main entrance hand in hand. Dean could feel Emma tug his hand slightly, trying to direct him over to the front desk but Dean wasn’t sure whether he wanted Castiel to be there or not. He’d spent the last few days letting himself think things about the man that he probably shouldn’t after having only met him once. 
But his eyes betrayed him and they took a quick glance over to the desk. Castiel wasn’t there. Dean was only half relieved. 
Once they reached a table in the work area, Dean set himself up with his notes and a couple books for Emma to occupy herself with. 
A few minutes passed with Dean squinting at one of his textbooks and Emma flicking through the pages of her books, only really looking at the pictures and making up her own stories to go along with them whispered under her breath. 
Eventually, Emma sighed and turned to Dean. “Daddy?” 
The silence was good while it lasted. “Yeah, Em?” 
“Can I go find Mr Cas?” 
How did Dean know it would be about friggin’ Castiel? 
“Not right now, baby. He’s probably working.” 
Emma sank down in her seat, crossed her arms angrily and pouted. 
Dean sighed to himself. He hoped this wasn’t the start of her having tantrums again. She was an angel now most of the time but all through the age of two she was a little demon. 
However, Emma stayed quiet and just spent her time kicking her legs up and down from the side of the chair. She wasn’t causing any upset so Dean let it slide just to try and get on with some more work. 
It was short lived, unfortunately, because mere minutes later Emma shot up from her seat and ran off. Dean was about to jump up to grab her and make her sit quietly until he saw what, or rather who, she was running to. 
Dean looked up in time to see Emma leap into Castiel’s arms as he approached their table. 
Okay, so he was wrong earlier. Castiel was every bit as beautiful as Dean remembered and more.
Today he was wearing a plain shirt with a form-fitting waistcoat that hugged him all the right places. And his hair, oh fuck, his hair. It looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, or maybe rolled around in bed. Was Castiel seriously trying to kill him? 
“Hello, Dean.” 
Dean blinked and realised he’d been staring at Castiel for longer than was probably socially acceptable. Emma was also watching her dad with a mischievous smile on her face. 
Dean cleared his throat, trying to will away the embarrassment of being caught staring. “Hey, Castiel.”
“I was wondering if Emma could help me again today?” Castiel asked, before turning to the little girl. “Do you want to help me put some books back on the shelves that people have finished with?” 
Emma nodded enthusiastically, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Is that okay, Dean?” Castiel asked, tentatively. 
As much as Dean loved his daughter, it would be a welcome relief to have a little break, even if it was to do college work. “Sure, man,” he smiled, tiredly. 
Castiel gave Dean a look that he couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t on his face for long before he turned his attention again to Emma and set her back on the floor. “Okay, Emma, can you wait for me at the front desk?” 
“Yes, Mr Cas!” 
“Good. Go straight there and sit on my big chair. Don’t go near the front doors okay? I’ll be there in a second.” 
Emma didn’t waste another second before she was off across the library, skipping over to wait for Castiel. 
Dean frowned, wondering why Castiel had remained with him at the table. The man had only moved enough so he could keep an eye on Emma sitting behind the desk and that was it. 
“Dean-” 
“Wait.” It had only just occurred to Dean. “How do you know my name?” 
Dean hoped he wasn’t imagining the blush that spread across Castiel’s cheeks. 
“I saw Mr D. Winchester on your library card that Emma used the other day. I admit I searched your name in our system to find your first name. I suppose I just wanted to put a name to the face.” 
Castiel looked slightly guilty for looking up Dean’s private information. But Dean’s brain was stuck on Castiel wanting to know his name, and what that could mean.
Dean shook his head. “Oh that’s cool, man. I guess it’s only right as you keep saving me by occupying my kid.” He shrugged. 
“Trust me, it’s no bother.” Castiel assured. “In fact, I missed you and Emma the other day when you said you’d come in.” 
Dean didn’t want to think too much about Castiel’s choice of words. He was too stressed to risk his heart having too much hope. 
“Yeah, sorry about that, Cas. Emma got sick at daycare so I had to leave work early and I didn’t have time to come study.” 
Castiel’s eyes widened in alarm and he glanced back again at Emma, who was still sitting merrily looking at different things on Castiel’s desk. “Is she okay, now?”
“She’s all good. Just one of those 24 hour bugs that only three year olds seem to get.” Dean smiled, but thinking of those 24 hours made him feel tired again. There was nothing worse than your child being sick and not being able to do anything but try to comfort them and reassure them that it wouldn’t last forever. 
Dean could feel the exhaustion seep into his bones as he talked with Castiel. His shoulders felt heavy and he knew he should sleep but he had another hour of revising to do before he had to take Emma home for dinner. And it was bath night too. God, it never seemed to end. 
“Dean,” Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, making the man focus his tired eyes. “I know we’ve only met briefly before but could I ask you a personal question?” 
At this point Dean is too tired to care. “Sure, man.”
“Is everything alright? Only, you’ve seemed incredibly exhausted both times I’ve seen you.”
Dean looked into Castiel’s warm, blue eyes and saw nothing but care and sincerity. 
He could cry. He could bawl like a fucking baby right here in the middle of Lawerence City Library. It’s been a long, long time since somebody had asked him that and truly cared about the answer. 
With tears building in his eyes, and taking a glimpse at his daughter smiling at customers as they walked by, Dean let out a choked sob. “I’m struggling, man. It’s so hard. And I’m so tired,” he admitted. “Between, work, college, and looking after Emma, it’s too much. I thought I could do it all. I thought I was ready but I’m not.” 
Without taking his hand from Dean’s shoulder, Castiel pulled up a chair to perch on, moving closer into Dean’s space. “Do you have any family that can help you out?” 
Dean let out a watery scoff. He knew Cas meant well but that was a loaded question with a long history. 
“My mom’s dead. Dad is gone. And my brother is in California.” Dean replied, succinctly. 
Castiel’s face filled with guilt again. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry Dean, truly.” He moved his hand from Dean’s shoulder to rest gently on his clenched hand.
Dean sniffed and wiped the tears that had escaped from his eyes. “It’s fine, dude, don’t worry. It’s just always been me and Emma, y’know?” 
“I assume her mother isn’t around either?” Castiel asked, carefully.
“Not even really sure who her mom is.” Dean said, bluntly. He prepared for the judgement to appear on Castiel’s face but it never did. So he carried on. “She was a one night stand. I didn’t know about Emma until she was left on my doorstep with just a little note with her date of birth. She didn’t even have a fucking name, Cas.” Dean wept. “She just got left there. I just happened to be home that day otherwise she could have been there for hours.”
“Dean, I-”
“Mr Cas!” Emma’s voice rang out from the desk. Dean turned his head to see his daughter smiling up at someone standing on the other side of the desk.
“I should go and help that lady. Could we finish this discussion another time? I feel like it would be good for you to have someone to talk to.” 
Dean couldn’t believe how much he’d already shared with a near-stranger. But he couldn’t help but feel drawn to Castiel. And he had to admit, sharing this weight with someone had felt good. 
“Sure, Cas. Go do your job. Just send Em back over here if she gets in the way.” Dean smiled, wiping the last of his tears away. 
Castiel watched Emma sit safely behind the desk, babbling away to the lady waiting. He turned back and smiled softly at Dean. “She could never get in the way.” 
At that Castiel gave Dean’s hand one last squeeze and headed off to greet the customer. 
And Dean could swear he fell in love in that second. 
*  *  * 
Later, it was nearing closing time and Dean had managed to get a fair amount of work done much to his relief after having to take a few days off. 
He’d glanced occasionally over his shoulder at Emma and Castiel, watching them do their jobs together. Both of them working with smiles on their faces. Every now and then Emma would say something that would make Castiel’s face scrunch up with laughter. Dean was glad to see someone else find his kid as funny as he did. 
Okay, so maybe he’d spent more time watching Castiel with his daughter than doing work. Sue him. 
In another life, Dean would have been all over Cas but, as much as he may have already fallen for the dorky, caring librarian, he barely had time to feed himself let alone have a relationship. 
As much as he hated to separate the adorable picture in front of him, Dean knew he needed to get Emma home, fed and in bed. He gathered his things and made his way over to the front desk.
“Come on Em, time to go now.” 
Both Castiel and Emma looked up at Dean with matching expressions of disappointment that it was time to leave already. 
“But I don’t want to go.” 
“We have to have dinner. And you need a bath tonight.” Dean reminded her. 
“Can Mr Cas come for dinner?” Emma asked, giving Dean her best puppy dog eyes. She definitely had the Winchester genes. She looked exactly like his brother, Sam. 
“You can’t just invite people to dinner at the last minute, Em. He’s probably busy and has someone waiting for him at home.” 
So maybe Dean was trying to fish to see if Cas was single. At least then he’d know once and for all. 
“Thank you for your concern, Dean. But I can assure you, it’s just me at home-” Bingo! “-and Emma was just telling me that you make the best mac and cheese with hot dogs ever.” 
Dean couldn’t argue with that. 
*  *  * 
So that was how Dean found himself sitting opposite Castiel on his couch a couple hours later. 
As soon as they’d walked through Dean’s front door, Dean had apologised for the mess. He was embarrassed by how bad it had got over the past few days. But with Emma sick and having to fit in extra shifts too, there hadn’t been much time to tidy. 
They’d eaten dinner quickly. Emma held most of the conversation, telling Dean and Castiel about her day at daycare and how she was going to paint a picture for them both tomorrow. 
Soon, Emma was tucked away in bed. She’d had her bath with little fuss. But she had demanded that Castiel read her a bedtime story. Both Dean and Castiel couldn’t help but snort with laughter at her serious grumpy face. Dean had left Castiel to sooth Emma to sleep with a story about two superheroes who fall in love. While Castiel was up with Emma, Dean was finally able to tidy up a bit around the kitchen and living room. 
Now, Dean could feel himself getting lost in Castiel’s eyes, though that also could have been to do with the tiredness finally catching up with him now that he’d finally had a chance to relax a little. 
The silence is soft between them, neither man pressing the other for conversation. Just happy to be in each other’s company. Dean didn’t know where Cas had come from but he knew he wasn’t letting him go. He’d have him in any way he could. Even if it meant only having him as a friend he saw when they took trips to the library. 
Eventually, Castiel cracked the quiet. “So, Dean. What are you studying at college?” 
Considering how their earlier conversation had gone, how much of a mess Dean had been, and his promise to continue the discussion later, Dean hadn’t expected that to be Castiel’s first question when they were finally alone. 
“Um, business management. I work at an auto shop right now and I guess I wanna own my own garage one day. Maybe do some restoration too.” Dean shrugged. “But I’ll probably have to go the long way now. There’s no way I can carry on with college, work to pay the bills, and look after Emma on my own.” 
“Dean! You can’t!” Castiel stressed. 
“Cas, man, I know you mean well. But it ain’t that simple. I already have a deal with my boss to work through my lunch break so I can leave early to pick up Emma from daycare, which I can barely afford.” Dean shook his head. “Then I have to study with her around. This isn’t fair on her. At least without college I’d have more time for her.” 
“Dean, do you enjoy being at college?” Castiel asked, squinting at the man in front of him.
“Besides the exams kicking my ass, yeah I kinda do.” Dean nodded. “Makes me feel like I’m actually achieving something y’know? Besides Em, of course, she’ll always be my best.” 
“Okay, so you need to stay in college. It will benefit you and Emma more in the long run.” Castiel raised a hand to silence the protests Dean tried to make. “I will help you.” 
“How’re you gonna do that, man?” Dean sighed. This sounded too good to be true.
“Well, if it’s okay with you, I could pick Emma up from daycare, and bring her to the library with me.” 
“But what about your job?” Dean argued. “What would your boss say?”
Castiel just smiled. “Dean, I’m the manager. I am the boss.” 
Dean couldn’t believe his ears. Could everything he needed actually be being handed to him on a silver platter?
“Cas, you gotta be sure about this. It would help me so fucking much but you need to be all in. Emma isn’t a phase that you can get bored with after a couple weeks.” Dean pleaded.
“I promise you, we may not have known each other for long at all but Emma has come to be very special to me and, well, so have you.” Castiel blushed. 
And suddenly Dean could see himself sitting on this couch with Cas in the future with Emma squished between them, laughing at one of her cartoons. And boy does he want it. Badly.
If it went wrong Dean would blame what he did next on feeling tired down to his bones. Without thinking, he launched himself forward to capture Castiel’s lips in a kiss. It probably wasn’t a good idea to jump into something with a dude he’d known less than a week but sometimes the best things happen spontaneously. That’s how Emma came into his life after all. 
As if reading Dean’s mind, Castiel deepened the kiss and pulled Dean even closer to himself. 
*  *  * 
From the very next day, it became routine for Castiel to pick Emma up from daycare on his afternoon break at the library. She’d keep him company and help him to tidy up as the library wound down for the day. Many of the customers were enamored with Castiel and his little helper. 
Then, a couple hours before closing, Dean would come in. He’d find Cas and Emma wherever they were to let them know he was there and to give them both a peck on the cheek. 
After Castiel had locked up, more often than not, he’d join Dean and Emma for dinner. 
That first night together, they’d agreed through rushed kisses to take things slow and keep Emma in mind. But within a month, Castiel was spending most nights at Dean’s and had taken to dropping Emma off at daycare too, allowing Dean a little extra time in bed. 
Perhaps their new dynamic was unusual but it worked for them. And it carried on working well when Castiel officially moved in, and when Dean graduated, and when he finally bought his own auto shop. 
And when they adopted a little brother for Emma.
A/N: This one kinda got away from me but I love it! Definitely going to do more in this universe one day. Maybe Sam meeting Cas (and Emma?) for the first time? Who knows?
Hope you guys enjoyed! 
If you enjoy my works and would like to be added to my tags list, let me know!
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TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @breathingdestiel @simplymisha @thekingslover @aelysianmuse @2musiclover2 @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @50shadesofsubtext @destielle @carryoncastiel @winchester-novak @angelwithashotguun @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @chaoticdean @jensenacklesruinedmylife @huckleberryhusbands @good-things-do-happen-dean
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justkending · 3 years
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One Night Flame (Epilogue)
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Series Summary: Y/N is a 3rd grade teacher, who had a really bad breakup. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Word Count:  2200+
A/N: Pretty sure I wrote this series last year, and I’m just now getting around to writing a epilogue... OOPS! Anyway, finals are this week, so as soon as Friday comes... I’M FREE FOR 6 WEEKS BEFORE THE NEXT SEMESTER!! Which means, hopefully I can sit down and write:) So, enjoy the little I can write right now, and if you haven’t read the series yet! Please do! It’s a good one;)
Epilogue:
“The turkey Dean! The turkey!”
“Right! Right! I’m getting it…” Dean came from the living room, running through the backdoor as the timer went off for his experimental smoked turkey he was trying out for thanksgiving this year. 
“How do you think it’s going to go?” Sam asked, grabbing his wine glass that you had already refilled twice since he’d been there. 
He was helping you with the side dishes as Jess and her grandparents were in the living room, playing board games, waiting for dinner to be ready. Mon and Benny were also there for your feast since you and Dean had introduced them to each other about a month ago. They had really hit it off actually. Hence, spending thanksgiving with friends this year since they didn’t have really close family. 
“Honestly, pretty good. As soon as he got that damn smoker, he hasn’t stopped researching and finding recipes to use it. Even did a few practice rounds with brisket and pork,” you replied, putting the last bit of the deviled eggs on the platter in front of you before setting it up nicely. 
“Ok, but a whole turkey compared to brisket?” Sam questioned, raising his glass with an eyebrow just as high. 
“Yeah, you’re right. That’s why I doubled up on the sides, and I have a ham in the oven,” you chuckled, placing your hand on your belly unconsciously. 
Sam looked down at the motion. Everyone close to you knew. You told them pretty soon once you found out everything was healthy and on the right track in the pregnancy. 
“So… When do you guys figure out the sex?” Sam said, stepping closer and with a smile. “It’s getting close to that time right?”
It was. You were a little over 3 and a half months pregnant. You were the tiniest bit showing, but as soon as the bump became even a little visible, Dean couldn’t keep his hands off of your stomach. It was like he had magnets connected to them. You actually had gotten the results back yesterday, but were waiting to tell the whole family. Dean wanted to wait until his parents were in town, but as soon as you got the letter he almost ripped it open in excitement. Lucky for you, you hid it and convinced him to wait one more day like you planned. 
“Yeah actually. We, um,” you leaned in making sure no one snuck into the kitchen while you told him the little secret. “The letter came yesterday. We’re planning on opening it with all you guys after dinner.”
“After?!” Sam shouted, getting a hush from you. “Aw, come on. You’re going to make us wait?”
“They don’t even know their waiting,” you giggled, turning to the rolls now. Making sure the butter and silverware was out for final touches. 
“But I do, and now I have to wait,” Sam kinda pouted reminding you of Dean. 
“Hey, you asked, and I answered. Plus, you’re going to be waiting 45 minutes max. Who’s to say Dean can even wait that long,” you laughed again rolling your eyes. 
“Ok, turkey is done, and boy do I have a good feeling about it,” Dean said coming in with a proud smile. 
“Have you finally mastered the smoker?” you asked, placing a hand on you hip and the other on straightening your shirt. 
“Oh sweetheart, can’t you smell the victory. I’ve more than mastered it,” he winked walking over and placing that magnet of a hand on your belly without even thinking twice. 
“It’s not just in the smell. We have to taste it too,” Sam snorted. 
“Shut up bitch,” Dean huffed. 
“Dean,” you groaned knowing Jessie was in the other room. 
“Jerk,” Sam retorted instantly. 
“Children!” you interrupted. “Dinner smells amazing, and we should probably invite our guest to eat it before it gets cold. Hmm?” you said poking Dean’s side. 
“Ok, ok. I’ll start carving the turkey. Sam go get everyone,” Dean leaned in giving you a peck on the cheek before moving to the giant bird wrapped in foil. Once Sam was out of the room Dean pulled you close to where he was. “So, you have the envelope?”
“It’s still tucked away from you, you little sneaker. I’ll grab it once we finish dinner.” You maneuvered to where you leaned your cheek on his shoulder and a hand around his back as you watched him carefully begin to carve the turkey. He wasn’t wrong, it did smell amazing. 
“I was thinking maybe before dinner, and then we eat in celebration,” he said bargaining with you. “I mean, I was just thinking…”
“Just thinking? Like thinking all night, just thinking?”
“Maybe…” he dragged out. 
You let out a sigh with a little laugh as you squeeze his bicep. “Ok you impatient man. I’ll go get the envelope. We can do it before dinner if that’s ok with everyone.”
Dean pumped a fist in the air before giving her a big kiss on the cheek. “You go grab that, and I’ll finish carving up this bad boy. Hey Sam, you got everyone?” he shouted toward the living room as Y/N walked out. 
A few minutes later, everyone was in the kitchen looking at the buffet style of thanksgiving goodies scatter across the counter tops. Mashed Potatoes, rolls and biscuits, turkey, gravy, vegetables, stuffing, sweet potato and green bean casserole, the list went on. Y/N walking in last with the envelope in her hands discreetly. Dean saw her slightly wave it at him and he smiled before clapping his hands together. 
“Ok everyone, first off, thank you for allowing Y/N and I to host this year and bring you to our house. We are so very thankful for each and everyone of you, and could not ask for a better group of people in our lives.” Dean smiled as Y/N came and positioned herself into his side. Reflectively, his arm wrapping around her waist pulling her as close to him as he could get her. “We are also very grateful for another thing that happened to us this year,” he grinned, moving a hand to her belly. 
“Immensely,” Y/N smiled at him. The crowd in front of them happy to see their love. “Because of that, we thought why not have some of our favorite people here to share the next step in our news.” She turned back to them. 
“Wait, what next step?” Mary asked, standing next to her husband.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Sam cheered, getting a small slap to the arm by his mom at the language. “Sorry.”
“Wait, do you guys know the gender?” Smart little Jessie spoke up.
“That we do,” Dean grinned all proud. 
“Hey Jessie,” Y/N said, bending down some to her level. “The results are in this envelope. Do you want to open them and read it for us?” 
“I don’t want to mess it up,” she said, slightly nervous. 
“That’s ok. I’m sure your dad would love to help you,” Y/N encouraged.
“Yeah, come on over here Jay. I’ll help ya figure it out,” Sam said squatting with open arms. 
She nodded, taking the envelope and Dean helped Y/N back to her feet before they stood next to each other ready for the reveal. 
“Oh, this is so exciting!” Monique jumped up and down. The rest of the room balancing on their toes in excitement watching Jessie and Sam open the little white paper treasure chest. 
“I’m going to have another grandbaby!” Mary cheered her hands held tightly together as John laughed. 
“Ok, let’s see,” Sam said, scanning the paper for the information, and then pointing it out to Jess. “You ready?”
The excitement for the parents caused them to hold each other tightly in anticipation. 
“Can I say it?” Jessie asked, waiting for confirmation as she looked at her dad. 
“Yeah, go for it.” 
“It’s a girl!” Jessie jumped up and down as Sam smiled. “I’m going to get another girlfriend!”
“Oh my God!” Dean shouted, turning to Y/N and picking her up off the ground gently. The rest of the room cheered and jumped with joy as well. “We’re having a baby girl!”
“We are!” Y/N laughed holding onto Dean.
Once everyone had had their moment to jump and scream, they went around hugging and congratulating the couple. 
“I say we dine to that,” Dean said, raising a beer. 
“I agree with that,” Y/N nodded, raising her sparkling cider. 
Everyone dug into their meals and conversation went around the table. Some about school, some about the fire station, some about John thinking of adding on to the garage he ran. But the main topic of interest… Baby names? Nursery ideas? Who do you think she’s going to look like? When is the wedding again?Are you going to take off extra time at work? Have you gone dress shopping yet? How about babysitters? Do you know any around the area? 
“Oh, don’t worry about babysitters. That’s what the grandparents are for. And since I work from home, I’ll gladly take her off your hand when the time comes,” Mary winked. 
“We’ll definitely be calling you sometime mom. Don’t worry,” Dean laughed leaning back after a full meal. “Now, where’s the pie?” 
______
Later that night.
“So a girl? You think you can handle that?” Y/N smiled as she pulled the covers back and maneuvered to her side of the bed. Her nightly routine was all done as Dean brushed his teeth in the connected bathroom. 
“Of course I can handle that. I helped Sammy raise Jessie. What? You think I can’t do it? Think of me as a boy dad?” Dean wrinkled eyebrows after spitting the toothpaste out. 
“Dean, no one said anything about you not being able to do it. I’m just saying, and even Jessie hasn’t got to this age, girls tend to grow up and-” she started. 
“No, no. I’m not talking about growing up and starting dating, if that’s what you’re getting at. Cause she’s still a little bean in your belly, and even after she comes out, she’ll be a little bean forever,” Dean started.
“I was going to say that I feel like teenage angst with girls is a lot harder, but you just skipped right to the dating part,” Y/N laughed, grabbing her book on her bedside and gently running a hand up and down her stomach. 
“Either way, I’ll take care of it,” Dean said as he flossed in the mirror. “By the way, any of those names mentioned at dinner sound any good to you?”
“Although I love your mom, I don’t think Bertha is going to be up there…”
“Yeah, I don’t know where she got that. I think it was a family name way back when, but I’m not even so sure about that,” Dean cringed coming back in the room. “What about Daisy? That was Jessie’s, wasn’t it?”
“Eh, not bad, but I feel like there is something better. No offense to Jess.”
“Yeah, agreed,” he said, sliding in the bed and making himself mold into Y/N’s side as she read her book in one hand, and played with his hair in the other. 
“What about Winona?” Y/N offered. 
“Like Ryder?” Dean perked up.
“Well I guess, but that wasn’t who I was thinking of. Just liked the name,” she chuckled.
“What about Ryder? That’s badass,” Dean said no in his own world. When he didn’t get a response he looked up to see Y/N with a bitch face. “What?” 
“Nothing, dork,” Y/N sighed. “But let’s keep our options open. 
“Ok, hit me with another.”
“I like Reese…”
“Not bad, not bad. What about Dakota?” Dean countered. “I have a really good friend that lives up there in South Dakota.” 
“Who do you know in South Dakota,” Y/N shrugged, going back to the book in front of her. 
“Same person who was able to pull some strings and get me your address when I first met you,” Dean admitted. 
“What?” Y/N said looking back at him. 
“Her name’s Jody. She’s in the police force up there, and she has some outs and ins with the big people,” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. 
“You little rascal. You really went above and beyond to bring me that scarf back,” Y/N laughed. 
“I had to see ya again darling. Can you blame me?” Dean leaned up kissing her cheek. “Hey, let’s talk about all this tomorrow. Cooking up Big Bird himself made me tired. Then you add in-”
“The 3 slices of pie you ate on top of your thanksgiving plate? Yeah, you’re about to have a carb and sugar crash.”
“You guessed it.”
“Get some sleep Dean-o,” she smiled as he cozied up into her while she read her book. Within minutes his soft snoring took up the room. Like every night, he had to fall asleep with at least one of his hands on her stomach. She woke up with him doing the same thing too. “You’re going to be an amazing father, Dean Winchester. Glad I’m doing this with you.”
One Night Flame Tag:
@a-magey @thatgirl1456 @marvelfansworld @shadowkat-83 @death-unbecomes-you @closetspngirl @perpetualabsurdity @deansyahtzee  @vicmc624 @classydreamerprofessorpeanut @sisterslytherinog @carryon-doctor-lock @spndeanlover1967 @akshi8278 @jjlevin @parinarain @capsiclehan @word-scribbless @kind-im-gedankennebel @camillechan @larpandtherealgirl @winchestergirl82 @i-am-a-mes @atomicloverdonkeyperson @tranquility-or-chaos
Supernatural Tags:
@flamencodiva @hobby27 @sucker-for-dean @deans-baby-momma @squirrelgirl67 @death-unbecomes-you @snffbeebee @larpandtherealgirl @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @musiclovinchic93 @vicmc624 @carryon-doctor-lock @perpetualabsurdity @herscrunchiehairtie @spnwoman @shamelesslydean @monkeymcpoopoo @winchestergirl82 @luciathewinchestergirl @deansyahtzee @thatgirl1456 @sucker-for-dean @atomicloverdonkeyperson @screechingartisancashbailiff​ 
My Lovelies forever:
@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @traceyaudette @kakakatey @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @snffbeebee @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted
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irrlicht-writes · 3 years
Text
the path we choose to walk on Pt.2
Part 2 of my Fix-It! Do note that this is NOT THE END. There will be at least one more part (god hope please) @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @insertdeeplyrics @cass-said-i-love-you ALSO SOMEONE WANNA JOIN MY TAG LIST STILL 
READ PART ONE FIRST HERE
Ao3
PART 2: a barn in which we meet
Sam is ecstatic. Eileen just revealed to him that she’s pregnant. Dean has been waiting to see Sam’s reaction and he couldn’t be happier. He’s moved out of their place a month ago and is now living in a rather crappy apartment but he’s always over at their house anyway.
I’m gonna be an uncle, Cas.
It feels weird but Sam is so happy. Sam hugs him and Dean makes sure to tell him that he’s gonna be a great Dad. Of course, Dean is going to be a greater Uncle, no two questions about it. Eileen laughs at them and it feels good to have a family. Miracle barks and Dean laughs to include the dog in the hug.
Cas would be proud of him. Dean has a job. It’s not a great job, but it’s a job outside the life. In time, he’ll make friends, too.
 “He kissed you?” Sam asks three months later and Dean nods.
“What was it like?”
Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t know. David had been flirting with him for about two months now and Dean wants to explore this side of him, it’s just – it’s just difficult. He feels as if he’s done a disservice to Cas.
“It wasn’t Cas,” he says and Sam nods.
“I know, Dean, but – Cas is gone. Don’t you think he’d want you to be happy?”
Of course Cas would want that. Cas would want Dean to get a partner. Cas would want someone in Dean’s life that would do everything the angel had never been able to do – but it still feels wrong. It’s not Cas. Maybe that will be the fault with everyone: they will never be Cas.
“Go on a date with him,” Sam says, “just to see what it’s like. If you don’t like it, then stop it, yeah? But give him a chance, at least. He’s not a creeper, right?”
No, David is nice. Under different circumstances, Dean might’ve even liked him.
“We’ll see,” Dean replies and they both know that nothing will come of it.
It’s not Cas.
 Eileen was eight months pregnant when Sam found a case. “Something’s killing monsters,” he says.
Normally, Dean wouldn’t be too concerned with this – monsters could kill other monsters for all he cared but this – whatever it was, it killed too many too quickly. It would make whole nests mad and then they’d beseech the town.
Dean doesn’t want Sam to go, not so shortly before the birth of his daughter but he can’t go alone, either. So they’re going to go together. If everything goes well, they don’t have to kill something. After all, whatever monster-killer is out there might not be aware of the impact of what they’re doing.
“Let’s go, then,” Dean says.
Eileen is upset about staying behind but she knows it’s better this way. “You look out for him,” she says to Dean and he laughs.
“With my life,” he promises.
 It feels good to take the Impala on a long stretch again. Miracle stayed behind with Eileen and it’s just him and his little brother on the road. It almost feels like the old times. They were rushing in to save the day, heroes once more.
Cas would be proud of them.
“Know anything about that monster-killer?”
“No,” Sam says. “But get this: all the killings happen in the same place, suggesting that it’s not moving around. In fact, it might even be that the other monsters seek it out for whatever reason so maybe it’s acting in self-defense?”
Dean just nods. That might be possible.
A long time ago, he believed that all monsters were evil. But he’d been wrong. They were also just trying to survive. If they were good, they got to live. And if they were bad, they got dead. If one would look at it from this angle, it wouldn’t be that complicated at all.
 It doesn’t take long to arrive at the scene. No humans have come to harm as of yet, so there’s no need to identify as the FBI again. They could just get in and get out.
“We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Sam warns him and Dean nods. He’s not suicidal. He has his gun and he also has his angel blade. He’d be fine. Castiel’s coat is in the trunk. Dean took it with him wherever he went. He would never be too old for a comfort blanket.
It’s a barn. Somehow, Dean was expecting this. He looks around. There are no monsters than he can hear so he hopes that they’ve come at a good time. The trees though – they look odd. They are all bended outwards as if a bomb had dropped.
“Where are the bodies?”
“Maybe whoever is killing them gets rid of them after?”
Sam shrugs, and Dean mimics him. It doesn’t really matter, either.
“Stay behind me,” Dean says and Sam scoffs. He steps up next to Dean and looks at him.
“Together,” he says and Dean smiles.
 They don’t get attacked when they enter. Maybe they’re not a threat to that thing. The barn has numerous holes in the ceiling so at least a little light is shining through. They cautiously walk further in. Dean is expecting an attack any second and the longer time goes on, the more anxious he gets. He just doesn’t want the monster to jump out of the dark and attack Sam. What would he tell Eileen? Dean is still crap at Sign Language.
There is a loud, and yet muffled sound and Dean points his gun at it. He looks over to Sam who just nods and Dean takes the lead. There. He can see it, nestled against the wall. It’s a blob that looks vaguely human-shaped. Its hand is outstretched but the arm is shaking and the thing looks like it’s covered in goo.
Dean lowers his gun. Whatever it is, it’s afraid. Sam steps up next to him, also putting his gun away.
“Hey,” Sam starts in a soft tone and the thing flinches, “we’re not here to hurt you.”
The hand stays outstretched for a moment but then the arm gets lowered. The poor thing is shaking.
“My name is Sam,” the thing moves a little, “and I’m here with my brother Dean.”
There is a low keening noise and Dean doesn’t know what to make of it.
“We want to help you, if we can.”
The thing falls forward on all fours and drags itself closer to them. Whatever the goo is, it clings tightly to the body and Dean feels sorry for whatever’s underneath. The thing has to stop every few inches, clearly exhausted. Dean feels for whatever it is. It starts punching its hand into the ground and Dean realises that it’s writing something down.
Where, it says.
“You’re in Kansas,” he replies and the thing turns in his direction. It shakes and Dean thinks it’s just about to collapse. How long has it been here, weighed down by this goo? How long has it waited for someone like Sam and Dean to show up?
“Hey,” he says a little softer. “We’re going to get that stuff off of you and then we can talk, like civilised people, yeah?”
The thing’s head droops a little and Dean finds it very endearing. It looks almost like a head tilt. “Okay, so,” he starts but then there are noises outside. Dean realises instantly that more monsters have come.
“Sammy,” he hisses but Sam is already in position. Dean stays close to Goo who’s heaving a little. Dean doesn’t understand why he wants to protect Goo but he finds he simply has to.
Seven guys trot in and Dean guesses that they might be Vampires. Damn, he’s packed the wrong bullets. Still, shooting them would slow them down for a moment so that he could stab them with the knife. It’s easy to slip back into the Killer Dean Winchester and he hates it. What would Cas have to say about all this?
“Ah, the Winchesters! I had believed you had retired. So sad to see I was wrong. But no worry – me and my friends will gladly help you along!”
Damn he hates vampires. They just fucking suck.
“Oh yeah? So how about you eat... this...”
They just exploded. In front of his eyes, they just exploded in a flash of light and Dean looks down at Goo. His hand his outstretched, just like before and something coils in Dean’s stomach. It couldn’t be. No, that’s just ridiculous.
Sam’s looking over at them too but Dean pays him no mind because – because Goo just slumps to the ground and Dean’s heart sinks. No. No no no no no no. Please don’t. He drops his gun and falls to the floor, grabbing Goo and lifting him up. He doesn’t care that he gets the ugly sticky stuff all over himself.
“Cas,” he whispers but Goo doesn’t reply. “Please, please. Cas, please.”
  With Sam’s help, they get Goo into the car. In the back of his head, Dean isn’t looking forward to having to clean Baby from this stuff but he doesn’t really mind. If this is Cas – it has to be, it has to be – he doesn’t care at all. He slides in the backseat and Sam drives towards the nearest motel. Dean shrugs off his jacket and puts it around Goo’s shoulders, hoping to at least fool the majority of people into thinking that this was just another normal person. And if they didn’t – well they are very welcome to lick his boots.
Sam walks into the reception area of this Motel 5 and Dean tries to wake up Goo again but he’s still out like a light.
“Cas,” he says. “Cas, I’ve missed you so much. Please. Please, be real.”
His voice doesn’t sound like his own.
 Together, they drag Goo into their room. Without stopping, they immediately continue on into the bathroom. There’s no tub, sadly – Sam had inquired – so the shower would have to do. They shove Goo inside and turn the warm water on. Dean doesn’t want to use cold water. Cas doesn’t deserve cold water.
“It doesn’t come off,” Dean says and Sam clenches his jaw. Why isn’t it coming off? Dean’s breath starts to pick up until Sam puts his hand on his shoulder.
“Breathe,” he reminds his brother and so Dean takes a deep breath. He nods and Sam turns the water off. The get Goo back out of the shower and haul him into the main room. They lay him upon a bed and Dean sits next to him. Sam gets on his phone, presumably to call Eileen and let her know what’s up.
“Cas,” Dean says quietly. “Please. If it’s you, then please – please give me a sign.”
There is nothing and Dean loses hope. But then he sees a small light flicker in the middle of Goo and Dean’s desperate enough to take it.
“Cas,” he says again and puts his hand on Goo’s face. “I’m here, baby. Tell me how to help you. Please. I need you back, Cas. I can’t – I’ve tried. Cas, I’ve tried to do it without you and I’m fine, y’know but it’s not – it’s not enough, y’know?
There’s this guy. David. He’s nice, yeah? He kissed me a few months ago and – I don’t know. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t – it wasn’t you. But I wanted to try. You’d want me to be happy, to find a partner that’ll love me and – I wanted to try. So I asked him out, Cas. He’s a nice guy. He makes jokes and he likes Baby and he likes Pizza and he even indulges me on my cowboy fetish. Remember when I made you wear that hat? Those were good times, Cas. Anyway, I – we, we had, uh... we had sex. It was just one time, but well, it – I don’t know. It wasn’t bad, I think – I don’t really know, I’ve never done it before, but – it was alright. It was just okay and I’ve told him as much and he looked at me and said you’re still in love with someone else and fuck, Cas, he’s right. I tried to use David as this filler, to try and get over you before I was ready and I –
Fuck, Cas. I love you. I can’t get over you; how do I even start? I think about you every day. Did you hear my prayers? I’ve never stopped. I thought, that maybe, if I pray enough, that you’d hear me someday.”
Dean leans forward and presses his forehead against Goo. It feels gross, but this is Cas.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough last time. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to bring you back. You deserve more than me and I’ll never understand why your dumb ass fell in love with me. Jack became God, y’know? You were right about him. I’m just – I’m so sad you’ll never get to experience the world now. You should’ve gotten the chance to say good-bye to him and I... I...
Cas, please. Come back to me.
I – I know I can live without you. It’ll be empty and cold and sad, but I could. The point is, Cas, I don’t want to. I don’t want to live somewhere where you do not. Even if we can’t go back to the way things were, I need to know – I need to know that you’re alive.
What’s Heaven without its best angel?
What’s the Righteous Man without his saviour?
...
Cas, please. I don’t... I don’t have any other words.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I want to tell you.
I want to hold your hand and I want to kiss your hair and I want to be gross with you and I...
I just want you.
I just...
Please. Cas. Please...”
His throat hurts, and he cries.
*
At night, Dean lies next to Goo. He’s holding Goo’s hand as much as he can and he sleeps. He’s never got to sleep in the same bed as Cas before. He wishes that they would’ve had more opportunities before but it was too late now.
I’ll watch over you.
Dean wishes he could’ve watched over Castiel at least one time.
 Dean wakes by someone shaking him rapidly. He doesn’t want to wake up. Miracle can walk herself. He’s dreaming about Cas walking in a field. He doesn’t want to leave the dream. But the shaking doesn’t stop. So he rolls on his back and blinks angrily at whoever woke him. Sam.
Of course it’s fucking Sam.
“Dean,” he breathes and he there’s this look in his eyes. He’s looking next to Dean and so Dean turns his head and –
“Cas,” he whispers.
Goo is gone and all that’s left is Cas.
Dean cries.
He can’t stop. He doesn’t even try.
 Cas doesn’t really respond to anything when he wakes up. But Dean doesn’t care. Cas is here. Cas is alive. He’s slapped himself several times just to make sure that he was really awake. It’s hard to pry Dean away from Cas even just for a minute.
Sam is worried that Cas is so unresponsive to anything and on some level, Dean is too, but at the moment, he doesn’t care.
“Cas,” is the only thing Dean is really capable of saying and every time he does, he feels like Cas’ eyes snap in his direction at least a little. That’s good, right? That’s some sort of response and that’s good. They’ll figure it out. They always do. Team Free Will was together again and they could tackle everything.
One day after Goo turned into Cas, they made the drive back home. Dean lets Sam drive so that he can stay in the backseat with Cas. It feels so good to have his angel leaning against him. Dean had detested it, but they’ve done a test: they’ve cut Cas with the angel blade and there had been grace shimmering beneath the surface.
On the way home, Dean murmurs to Cas constantly and he wants to believe that the angel can understand him. And even if he can’t – he just wants to talk to Cas. He can’t even count the days since he’s last been so happy.
“I love you,” he whispers again and again and maybe, just maybe, Cas moves his head every time he says it.
 They decide that Cas would stay at Dean’s apartment. Sam had been debating if Cas shouldn’t maybe stay with him and Eileen – after all they had a whole house. But they’d be having a baby pretty soon. Dean was able to devote himself to Cas entirely. And most importantly, Dean doesn’t want to stay away from Cas for any amount of time. He’s utterly convinced that Cas reacted to his voice in the car. Yes, maybe it had been just a coincidence but Dean needs to believe that there is more to it. Cas loves him. He loves Cas.
“Just be careful, Dean,” Sam had said while Dean clutched Cas to his chest. “If anything happens, call me.”
Dean had nodded and ascended the stairs.
Castiel is lying on his couch for most of the day. Dean wants to believe that Cas watches him. He enjoys this – being watched by Cas. It had been too long. He couldn’t stop smiling because he’s happy.
Cas is alive. Cas is here.
It’s like a dream come true.
At night, Cas lies in bed next to him and Dean presses soft kisses against his temple. He doesn’t dare do more and he’s content like this. He holds Castiel’s hand the entire night and if he wishes hard enough he can imagine that Castiel squeezes his hand back.
 “Dean,” Castiel says and Dean cries.
Castiel doesn’t speak again but Dean can’t stop crying.
 “Sam just called,” Dean informs Cas who is lying on the couch. Cas’ eyes flicker to him, half-understanding. “Eileen just went into labour. I wanna go there, Cas, I wanna meet my niece. Do you... do you want to come?”
He’s not expecting a response. He always wants one, but he never expects it.
“I,” Castiel says and his voice is terribly hoarse but Dean drops the phone nonetheless.
“Want,” Castiel keeps on saying before he hacks up an ugly cough. Dean cries and rushes over to him.
Cas looks at him with tired eyes, but he sees him, he looks at him, he’s here –
“Anything you want, baby,” Dean whispers. “Anything you want.”
 The nurses tell Dean that Sam and Eileen are inside but that he’s not allowed to go in. They were nice enough to give him a wheelchair for Cas – as much as Dean loves to pretend he’s a strong macho man, Cas is still six feet tall and really fucking heavy.
“They’re just inside there,” Dean says to Cas who’s looking at the floor. “Sam’s gonna be a dad.”
He can scarcely believe it himself. Sammy’s going to be a dad.
“Father,” Castiel says and Dean smiles. This is good. This is so good. Castiel can hear him and he can even respond.
“I’m so proud of you, Cas.”
Castiel looks at him with his big, blue, unblinking eyes. He frowns. Fuck, Dean had missed him so much.
“Jack,” he says and tries to look around.
“He’s God now, Cas. It’s like you always said – he’s destined for great things.”
Cas looks a bit upset.
“Goodbye,” he rasps and his eyes become frantic. “Where,” he says and starts coughing.
Oh god, no no no no. Cas is coughing up the same black goo he had been covered with.
“Cas, Cas, baby, please,” Dean whines.
Cas’ whole body shakes and Dean can tell that he’s trying to reign the coughs in. His good, pure, strong angel. Cas looks up at Dean, heaving heavily with tears in his eyes.
Dean presses kisses on his face – his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin.
“So good. You’re so good. We’ll fix this. I promise. We’ll fix this, together. I’m not letting you go. I’m never letting you go again, Cas.”
“Dean,” Cas says quietly and slumps against him. Dean can feel him breathing and he wraps his arms around him.
“I love you,” Dean says and Cas presses his forehead against Dean’s neck.
*
It takes ten hours, but then Dean officially becomes an uncle. Castiel had been asleep for a good amount of time, but at least he hasn’t coughed again. Of course, Dean is a bit worried about the sleeping but he’ll figure that out. All that matters is that he’s got Cas by his side and that he’s now got a little baby girl to spoil.
Once he gets the clear, he rolls Cas into the room and Sam and Eileen both look tired but also so, so happy. They light up even more when they see Cas.
“Cas,” Sam says and smiles at him. Cas looks up at Sam and blinks slowly.
“Sam,” he replies hoarsely.
Sam looks to Dean in utter disbelief and Dean can just smile. “Show us the baby, yeah?”
Eileen moves the blanket aside a bit so that they can take a look at the little bundle of joy. Her face is all scrunched up and she’s just adorable.
“Sammy, are you sure she’s really your daughter?”
Sam shoves him playfully. “You’re such a dick.”
“Baby,” Cas says and Eileen smiles at him.
“Do you want to hold her?”
It doesn’t seem like Cas understands at first, but then he nods. He raises his arms and Eileen places her daughter in them without a second thought. Both Sam and Dean are ready to interfere in case Cas’ arms would not be steady enough to hold the baby but it turns out they needn’t have worried.
“Hello,” Cas says to the child who wiggles a bit in his arms.
“Her name’s Maria,” Sam supplies and Castiel slowly nods.
“Maria,” he says. He slowly puts a finger on her tiny nose. His finger glows and Dean worries. What’s going on?
Cas looks at Eileen but he doesn’t move to give the baby back. Eileen just looks at him, then she slowly nods and smiles. She signs something and Cas turns his head to Sam.
“Fix,” he says. “Heart.”
“She... she has a heart problem?”
Castiel shakes his head. “Not... not anymore. I. I fix. I. Take. I...,” he closes his eyes in strain. “It’s gone now. They. Would. They would not have. Noticed. It’s small. But I. I took it.” His voice sounds like it pains him greatly. He slumps in his chair a bit but holds Maria tight.
“Dean,” he says and Dean’s by his side in a flash. “I want. I want to see Jack.”
 *
 When they are back at home, Dean prays to Jack. Cas fell asleep in the car as soon as they started driving back home and he hasn’t woken up since. But he also hasn’t coughed again which is probably a good sign.
“Hey, Jack,” Dean says, looking out the window. He’s put Cas into bed and is sitting next to him. The soft breathing behind him calms Dean and he wouldn’t move away from it for the world.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but we got Cas back. I don’t know how, if you were involved or not and if you can even hear me, but – he’s back, Jack. Cas is back.”
It still sounds like a dream.
“And he – Jack, he wants to see you. He didn’t get to say good-bye, y’know? He really misses you and, Jack, he’s – he’s sick or something. We found him covered in some black goo – you know, it kinda looked the Empty Goo thing, but I don’t – the goo is gone now, but he’s weak and he was coughing that stuff up earlier today and – I just... Jack, please come here. Fix him? He deserves it, yeah? So... just please, when you have a moment off from being God, could you... just pop in?”
Dean isn’t expecting Jack to instantly appear in the room, but – he somehow is. He sighs and turns around to Castiel fully. He’s sleeping peacefully and Dean smiles. He takes Cas’ hand and softly strokes the skin.
Miracle miracles herself into the bedroom and sniffs at Cas extensively. Cas doesn’t react to her but Dean smiles at the dog. He isn’t even sure if Cas knows that there’s a dog here. Miracle clearly doesn’t know what to make of the strange new man yet and Dean can’t blame her.
“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, girl,” he says and Miracle huffs. She looks at him expectantly. Dean laughs.
“But this is Cas, yeah? They guy I told you about. The guy that died? I’m sorry, girl. I’ll make it up to you when he’s better. And he’s getting better, he just needs a little more time, yeah? So... how about you help? If we both shower him with love, then he’ll get back on his feet even quicker, yeah? And then all three of us can go on a walk together.”
At the word “walk”, Miracle perked up and started wagging her tail. She then proceeds to climb up on the bed and snuggle up to Cas as if she had actually understood Dean. And he has a pretty good feeling that she actually had. Dean laughed and lays down himself, intertwining his fingers with Cas. His niece had just been born, Cas had been incredibly responsive today and everything would work out.
They just need a little more time.
A little more time, and then all of them could sit a table together, enjoying a family dinner.
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Text
a sickly satisfaction (ch.1)
pairing: jason dean/reader
summary: high school sucks. jason dean makes it a little better.
warnings: uuhhhh murder, language, suicide discussion
notes: i have every chapter of this written out already, so every wednesday I’ll release a new one <3 in total the story is 7,800 words! but there are some parts that are kind of short, forgive me for those.
            Eyes down. Walk fast. Stay out of their way. Three simple steps to get through the day. They had an iron grip on the school, their perfectly manicured nails digging into the oily skin of the entire student body. High School was a bloody battlefield in the war that is life. However, the epitome of cruelty, the ultimate teenage angst inducing, self-esteem crushing, happiness shattering war machine came in the form of three girls and their weak-willed sidekick. That’s right; my biggest threat in high school is Heather Chandler, Heather McNamara, Heather Duke, and Veronica Sawyer. Veronica at least has some semblance of regret and empathy-- she’s just doing what she needs to survive. Unfortunately, that means the rest of us have to struggle to keep our heads above water. 
            Thankfully, I have a sanctuary. A refrigerator heaven filled with endless isles of roadtrip snacks and hangover remedies. Of course, this junk food Garden of Eden also happens to contain my best friend, Tommy Geller. Tommy is 18, emo, and gay, so naturally we got along pretty well. He sits behind the register and lets me hang around until closing. It’s actually pretty nice-- sometimes he lets me do busywork around the store. Sure, it’s sort of pathetic that Snappy Snack Shack is my main source of serotonin, but you know what? There are worse places to be. 
            “Pop open a bottle of champagne, Tommy, because today is a special day!” I cry, pushing open the small class doors. To my delight, the store is empty. There are no irritating customers there to make me keep my voice down.
            “Oh? And why is that?” Tommy inquires, his jet black hair falling in front of his eyes. He’s tired-- and bored-- and I’m the perfect remedy for that. 
            “Today marks exactly six months since I first stepped foot in this town,” I grin. Tommy’s eyebrows perk up.
            “Really? Congrats, kid,” He’s humoring me a bit, but there is a genuine reaction beneath his sarcastic remarks. 
            “Thanks, Tommy. Y’know, that’s twice as long as my time in New Jersey and three times as long as my run in Nebraska. I have a feeling dear old aunt Maria might actually stay here for good,” I hop over the counter before grabbing a can of Coke out of the fridge. I prop me feet up on the counter, but Tommy knocks them down.
            “You know the rules, kid, no stompy boots on the counter.” I roll my eyes. He wipes off the place where my shoes were before organizing the lotto tickets. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”
            “Eh, same old same old. The Heathers were bitches, Veronica was desperately trying to keep up, and I got tripped in the hallway,” Tommy frowns.
            “God, those girls really need to get humbled,” He spits. 
            “You don’t need to tell me. They constantly act so… self-superior, as if their power doesn’t depend solely on whether or not everyone else hates themselves to believe they’re inferior to three teenage girls who are the definition of ‘peaked in high school’,” I squeeze the soda can in my hand, the metal crunching under the pressure. “They need to be more than humbled. The Heathers deserve to be dealt as much pain as they served,”
            “Watch it, kid, you’re sounding a bit homicidal,” Tommy jokes. If only he knew. 
            “It wouldn’t matter anyway. I don’t think they can die-- they’re like a Hydra. If you kill one of the Heathers, three more will grow in her place,” I sigh. Tommy looks concerned.
            “Y/n, you don’t actually want to kill them, right?” I hesitate. The silence makes Tommy worry.
            “I wouldn’t exactly lose sleep if one of them did die,” I reply nonchalantly. “It would be like a public service. Similar to killing the black mold that grows in the girl’s showers,” Tommy looks at me for a second, his expression unreadable, before turning back to his counter. 
            “That’s morbid,” he says. “You know that? You sound like a killer in the making.”
            “Sometimes bad people deserve bad things.”
            “You’re absolutely not helping your case,” Tommy laughs. I can feel someone watching me. It’s an odd feeling, but I brush it off.
            “New topic?” I ask. Tommy nods.
            A mischievous grin grows on his face. “You got a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner? All of the above?” he asks hopefully.
            “No, Tommy, and don’t get your hopes up,” I chuckle, before standing up and admiring the neon sign outside.
            “Oh come on, there has to be someone. You can’t possibly go to that hellhole every day and not see at least one hot person!” Tommy groans.
            “Everyone at Westerburg is either evil or boring. No one interests me and I’m not interesting to anyone. Plus, my attention is mainly focused on getting through the day in one piece, not getting laid.” I neglect to mention the stranger I saw in the Cafe yesterday. He was pretty hot, and didn’t seem to be a douchebag-- in fact, he shot two of the douchiest douchebags with blank bullets. A real rarity at Westerburg.
            “God, you need to get out more. I see some pretty people pass through here occasionally, I’m going to start pawning you off,” he jokes.
            “Oh, god, no,” I joined in on his laughter.
            “Yup, I’m going to give every hot person your photo and your address until you finally score yourself some arm candy,” Tommy can barely form sentences through his laughter.
            “I’m gonna to get murdered if you do that, Tom,” I giggle. 
“             And that would be damn shame,” A voice calls from across the counter. I look up to see the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It’s the same guy from the Cafe-- although in the bright convenience store lighting he looks more like a ghost than a man. His jawline looked sharp enough to slice me in half, his cheekbones high and defined. His hair was gorgeous and his teeth were really, really nice. 
            “Uh, yeah, that would totally s-suck,” I choked. Tommy shot me the most horrified look I’ve ever seen. “I’ve, uh, seen you around. That stunt you pulled in the Cafe was wicked, man, seriously.”
            “Hey, it was a public service,” He smirked. Tommy gave me a ‘holy-shit-I’ll-leave-you-two-alone’ look before disappearing in the isles across the room. I could see him peeking through the cereal boxes. “I’m Jason Dean, but most people call me JD.” He offers his hand for me to shake.
             “Y/n, Y/n Ln,” I grip his hand firmly and try not to have a breakdown over the contact. “Y’know, there are much less extreme ways to get people to fuck off than, well, shooting them.”
              “The extreme always seems to make an impression, though, doesn’t it?” His voice was a little bit lower and he leaned in a little bit closer. Tommy was freaking out across the aisle, his eyes wide as his hand raked through his greasy hair. 
            “That it does,” I grin. “There are quite a few people in that school that deserve certain... extremities,” 
            “I think you’re right,” Jason smirked once again. I kept my composure as best I could. “Speaking of extremities, I saw you and Kurt in the hallway last week,” My face is lit ablaze as I recall the incident. Kurt had been continuously pestering me the entire day, and eventually I reached my limit.
            “I guess they aren’t joking when they say the chin is the knockout button,” Jason seems impressed, although I can’t really tell because looking him in the eyes seems like a death sentence. “Landed me three days detention, though. That sucked. Although I guess it can’t compare to whatever they’re dealing you,” At this point, one of the regulars began approaching the front doors. Tommy sprinted out before they got in, seemingly explaining that my entire love life depends on whether or not I can play it cool.
            “Eh, what can I say. I sort of dug myself a grave there,” I spoke without thinking.
            “The only graves that should’ve been dug are Kurt and Ram’s. My one critique? Use real bullets next time,” I froze. Why the fuck would I say that? I mean, I’m not wrong but I doubt JD would stick around after--
            “I like the way you think,” JD laughs, his ears tinted pink. Jason looks at me, and for a moment, I look right back. There’s something behind his eyes, something festering and enticing. I wonder if my eyes communicate anything. “I’ll see you around, Y/n L/n,” 
            “And I’ll see you, Jason Dean,” With that he winked at me, spun on his heel, and walked out the front door. Tommy practically sprinted across the room as I released every muscle I’d been tensing. I slowly melted onto the floor. Laying on the tile with my eyes trained on the bright lights overhead.
            “Oh my god,” Tommy breathed. “Oh my fucking god that was-- oh my god.”
            “I know,”
             “Did you see him? He’s like a greek god,”
            “I know,”
            “And he was totally into you, like, totally,”
            “I should’ve given him my address. I wouldn’t mind getting murdered by him.” I say breathlessly. Tommy sits on the counter and looks down at me.
            “I think I need to teach you how to talk to boys,” Tommy sighs, shock still lingering on his face.
            “Pssh, I can talk to boys just fine,” I retort.
            “You almost collapsed when you saw him,” he says flatly.
            “That was--”
            “I thought you were going to pass out when he told you his name,”
            “But I--”
            “I genuinely believed you were going to vomit when he shook your hand,”
            “Alright! I give! I can’t talk to boys! You caught me! Lock me up and never let me embarrass myself like that again!” I surrendered, throwing my arms in the air before letting them collapse over my face. “He probably thinks I’m a freak,”
            “Are you joking? He was more smitten than you were!” This caught my attention, and I tore my arms away from my eyes. 
            “Huh? Elaborate!” I snapped.
            “You seriously didn’t notice? He’d been staring at you since you stepped foot in here, didn’t you see him? At first I thought it was weird, but then I realized he was smoking hot so I decided I’d let it slide,” “Comforting,” Sarcasm drips from my words. “Y’know serial killers and stalkers can be hot, too.” I rolled my eyes.
“             I seem to recall you saying something along the lines of ‘I wouldn’t mind getting mur--’,”
            “Alright, Tommy, we get it.” I cut him off in embarrassment. “Please continue.”
            “He comes in here a lot, so I knew he was alright. He was beet red the entire time you were talking. Didn’t you see the way he was in a perpetual state of stupid smiling? Dude, he was definitely into you and really bad at hiding it,” Tommy concluded.
            I smiled a big, dumb smile. I didn’t notice the fact that he was nervous, so he probably didn’t notice that I was dying, right? 
            “Tommy, I think we might have a keeper.”
            “Thank god, I don’t think I could stand to see you go to Prom alone. That would be too depressing, even for me,” Tommy enthused. I propped my feet against the edge of the counter, staring at the tips of my boots. For the first time in a long time, Tommy is silent. I can’t get his eyes out of my head. Then again, I don’t know if I want to. 
_________
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