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muffinbeliever · 3 years

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When the Stars Align [07]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 4717

Warnings: language, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, but also cute date fluff, Lisa Braeden (yes this is a warning), crying, body insecurity

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: HELLO !!!! i apologize for the delay my classes have been swamping me with work and i already had writers block but i finished this chapter like five minutes ago and i'm desperate to post it and see what you guys think ! please be sure to leave comments and likes as always <3

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

Sunlight illuminated Dean’s face that you admired as you drove along the open road. The windows were down, a light breeze flowing through the car. Occasionally, Dean would catch you staring at him, but you didn’t mind and neither did he.

You giggled when you noticed a familiar neon sign and the red leather booths that peaked through the window, having been here only a couple of hours before.

“What?” Dean looked over at you, nervous as he didn’t know why you laughed. You shook your head, before replying.

“I just really like this place,” you said, refraining from telling him about your earlier excursion with Thomas, not wanting it to ruin the moment. He gave you a soft smile.

“I remember,” he said, his eyes shining with fondness, “You mentioned that you come here a lot when you were showing me around.” Your heart soared at the fact that he remembered the small detail.

He parked the car, before quickly getting out of the car, jogging over to your side to open the door before you could even register what had happened. He extended his arm and you giggled at his silliness before getting out of the car. He closed the door behind you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, gently leading you towards the diner.

There weren’t many people and you were grateful, hoping to have a quiet dinner with your soulmate and get to know him a bit better. He grabbed a booth snuggled against a corner of the room, gesturing you to sit down. You took one side of the table and he took the other side.

Two menus were placed on the table, and the dark-haired waitress flashed Dean a smile. She looked a couple of years older than you and her black jeans and tight shirt hugged her curves, her tied apron accentuating her slim waist. Her hair fell in gentle waves, framing her face in a way that yours never did.

“My name is Carmen, I’ll be serving you tonight,” she said directly to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and you caught Dean glance at you.

“Can I start you off with anything to drink?” She asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll have a Coke, please. Sweetheart, what about you?” He asked you kindly.

“A water, please,” you said to Carmen. Her eyes roamed your face and clothes, and she gave you a smirk.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she said, winking at Dean before walking away, her hips swaying with each step. There was a familiar sinking feeling in your chest that reeked of self-doubt.

Who did you think you are? Bagging a guy like Dean Winchester? Obviously, you weren’t terrible to look at, but you sure as hell weren’t a head-turner. Guys didn’t double take when you passed by nor did they try to pursue you. The only exception was Thomas, and you were sure that it was more of a friendly attraction than romantic.

You picked up a menu, not even sparing Dean a glance, trying to focus on what you were going to eat. Despite having eaten here many times, you were surprised at the selection they offered. Most times, you got a salad, sometimes switching it up with a burger, but the prospect of a pastrami sandwich sounded especially inviting tonight. You were debating ordering the pastrami, but decided that it probably wouldn’t look very attractive to eat. Besides, you were already self-conscious about your body, might as well try to eat healthily. Out of the corner or your eye, you saw Carmen approach your table, placing down the two drinks and straws.

“Have you decided what to get, sugar?” Carmen said, flashing a smile at Dean, not that he noticed. He was still looking at the menu, preoccupied with the dozens of choices to choose from.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll get the double bacon cheeseburger with fries on the side,” he said, before looking up and handing her his menu.

“And you?” She asked in a bored tone.

“I’ll get the chicken salad please, dressing on the side,” you said and she wrote it down before leaving. Dean gave you a look.

“Salad? I thought you liked burgers,” he observed, and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t want to be a salad girl, but here you were. You chastised yourself, this is Dean. He doesn’t care if you eat a pastrami sandwich.

“You’re right, I’ll be right back,” you said with newfound courage before getting up from the booth and walking over to the counter. You were able to call out to Carmen.

“Actually, can I have the pastrami sandwich with a side of fries instead of the salad?” She scoffed.

“Figures,” she muttered, “You don’t look like the salad type.”

Her bitchy tone cut through your heart like a knife. You were taken aback, unable to think for a second. You tried formulating a response, but she was already gone. You looked over at Dean who was typing away on his phone, probably texting Sam. You were defeated once again by a beautiful woman.

You made your way to the table, sitting down, lost in your thoughts. Dean’s phone was put away and you were staring at the table. Thinking for a second, you got up, and a look of confusion flashed in Dean’s eyes, but it was gone when you slid into the booth right next to him.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Get a little lonely over there?” He joked and you rolled your eyes before snuggling closer to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Just missed you was all,” you mumbled into his shoulder and he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, “but I can tell something is wrong.” He gave you a knowing look.

“Carmen is pretty,” you admitted, hating that you were being petty.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said, and you scoffed, pulling away to look at him.

“I’m not jealous,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

“I was just… I was making sure that… I…” you stammered before sighing, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay maybe I was a little jealous. But clearly, we’re here together and she just kept staring at you, and don’t even get me started on how she talked to me.” You could feel yourself sinking deeper into your thoughts, hating that your stupid insecurities were about to ruin the date.

“What did she say to you?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. You shook your head, debating on not telling him, but his deep green eyes were full of concern and worry.

“Just that I don’t look like the salad type,” you said, lowering your head in embarrassment. A hand came up to cup your cheek and your eyes met his once again.

“That’s bullshit. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m only yours, sweetheart,” he said, sincerely, before pulling you into a gentle kiss. It was scary how easily that calmed you down. You had struggled with insecurities for the majority of your life, and it usually took a couple of days, if not weeks, to pull yourself out of the dark hole in your mind, but one kiss from Dean, and all of the sudden, your heart stops racing and your thoughts slow.

Your kiss was disrupted by a clatter of plates on the table. Carmen didn’t speak a word to either of you and she was about to leave when Dean called out to her.

“You’re going to apologize to my girlfriend and then we’re getting a new server. You have no right to speak to her like that,” Dean defended you, an angry look on his face.

“Dean,” you whispered, a bit embarrassed by how this was going. She wasn’t exactly wrong, you weren’t supermodel-thin nor did you have amazing curves that drove men wild.

“Sorry,” Carmen said, not sounding sorry at all, before spinning on her heels and walking away from the table.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you were lost in your thoughts, a small frown on your face. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head before you turned to look up at him.

“Let’s just enjoy our date,” you said with a hopeful smile, and he nodded. Forty minutes, a pastrami sandwich, and a double bacon cheeseburger later, you were giggling like a schoolgirl, enamored by the man sitting next to you.

“Sammy was sitting on the handlebars while I rode us to the hospital!” Dean exclaimed and you laughed at the story. He snatched a fry off your plate and dipped it in ketchup before shoving it in his mouth. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his thigh that was pressed against yours. Caught up in his green eyes, you didn’t notice a man approach the table.

“How was the food?” You jumped, shocked at his sudden appearance. It was the manager, John or Jacob or something with a ‘J’. He came over after you complained about Carmen, apologizing for her behavior and telling you that he would be serving you for the rest of the night.

You beamed at him, completely satisfied with the pastrami sandwich that was now happily sitting in your stomach.

“Great!” Dean responded, flashing him a smile. The manager returned the smile before continuing.

“Because of your unpleasant start to the evening, dessert is on us. We have root beer floats, ice cream sundaes, and a variety of pies,” he listed, and you immediately looked at Dean whose eyes lit up.

“We’ll take a slice of apple pie, please,” Dean responded right away, his hand squeezing yours in excitement. You giggled at the smile on his face. The manager nodded and left the table, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You looked up at him, admiring the freckles dotting his face. He gave you a soft smile that you returned and you leaned in for a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, not one of need or lust, but adoration and love.

Throughout the months, you have accepted that you had fallen for the oldest Winchester brother. There was the obvious fact that he was your soulmate, the one person in the world made exactly for you, but you knew that even if that weren’t the case, you would have still been in love with Dean. You loved his wit and charm, often catching yourself imagining his flirtatious winks. Not only was he gorgeous to look at, but he didn’t flaunt it like other men did. Sure, he knew he was attractive, but you at times, you sensed deep-rooted insecurities from him, which you thought was ridiculous since he was basically built like a Greek god. He was selfless to a fault; always putting everyone before himself. His loyalty to Sam was admirable, and you had no doubt that he would do anything for those he loved.

The manager placed a giant steaming slice of pie between the two of you, two forks on the side of the plate as well as whipped cream. You expected Dean to dig right in, but he looked at you expectantly. The scent of the spiced apple filled wafted from the plate and made your mouth salivate. Dean picked up a fork and detached a large piece from the tip of the slice. Before you could even register his actions, he brought the fork up to your mouth and pressed it against your closed lips. You accepted it without question, humming as the warm treat hit your tongue.

“That bad, huh?” Dean joked with a twinkle in his eye. You smiled at him before returning the favor. Your fork didn’t grab nearly as big of a piece as his did, but you focused on the way his lips wrapped around the fork. His tongue swiped at his upper lip, not wanting to waste a single crumb of pie.

Heat pooled in your belly and you clenched your thighs together, remembering just how much of an expert he was with his tongue. He groaned, his eyes closed as he savored the pie, and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. You let out a small whimper, and his eyes flashed open. His green eyes swept your figure, taking in your squished thighs and flushed neck before smirking at you.

“Later, sweetheart,” he promised, his fingers dancing on the top of your thighs. You could feel his warmth through your jeans, sparks of electricity shooting through you with every touch. You shuffled closer to him, wanting your bodies as close as possible.

“You want some more?” He offered to you and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean got another piece of pie and shoved it in his mouth. You looked at him, confused, and he smirked at you once again before pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan as his tongue played with yours, the taste of apple pie fresh in your mouths. His hand tightened around your thigh at the sound. He was the first to pull away, breathless.

“Let’s get this to go, ya?” He suggested with a wink and you giggled, nodding. You were lost in his smile, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his full lips turned up. He waved the manager down and asked for a box and the check. You placed the pie delicately in the take-out box as Dean set down enough cash to cover for the meal and tip.

You slid out of the booth first, pulling your leather jacket on and Dean’s hand rested on the small of your back, leading the both of you out of the diner. As you expected, the air was crisp and chilled. He opened the door of the Impala for you, making sure you were safely inside before shutting it. You watched as he jogged over to the driver's side, sliding in next to you. Grateful for the long bench, you shifted closer to Dean and his hand came to rest comfortably on your thigh.

The soft sounds of Bon Jovi whispered through the speakers, barely noticeable unless you strained your ears. The windows were closed this time due to the slightly colder weather, but you were warm with Dean beside you.

There wasn’t much talking on the way home. You sat in a comfortable silence, occasionally feeling his eyes on your face, but every time you looked at him, he was looking away, a smile on his face. After the third time, you huffed and grabbed his hand from your thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. He looked at you, surprise written on his face, and you gave him a triumphant smile. He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your hand.

Before you knew it, the familiar light of your street came into view and he pulled his car up in front of your house. You didn’t want to let go of his hand, so you slid out his door after he did, holding the box of pie in your other hand. The crickets were chirping as you walked up to the front door.

‘Later, sweetheart,’ came the echo of his voice throughout your mind, and you pulled him into the house, roughly kissing him once the door was closed. His arms came to your shoulders, gently pushing off the sleeves of your leather jacket. You struggled a little bit, not wanting to drop the pie in your hand, before Dean took it from you, setting it on the small table next to your door that usually held nothing but a small succulent.

He pulled off your shirt in a swift motion and his lips began traveling down your neck, occasionally sucking and licking sensitive spots. You gasped as he nibbled your earlobe.

“So responsive,” he murmured and an involuntary shiver ran through your body. His leg gently pushed your legs apart and his thigh pressed against your covered core. His hands gripped your waist, and you ground against his thigh, the friction of your jeans rubbing against your sensitive bud in a deliciously perfect way.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his trail of kisses from your neck down to the tops of your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered to himself, staring at your flushed chest. You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy or particularly sexy, but Dean made you feel like you were in expensive lingerie, draped in the finest lace and silk in the world. You moaned wantonly, begging for more. You picked up the rhythm, moving faster against his thigh. He watched you with lust-filled eyes, devouring you. The pressure between your legs kept building until it finally peaked, and you came with a loud moan. Dean placed gentle kisses on your sweaty forehead, relaxing you as you came down from your high. His leg came down, setting your feet gently on the floor. Your legs felt like jello, occasional spasms wracking through them.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggested, not wanting the night to be over. He picked you up in his arms and carried you bridal style into your room. He gently tossed you onto the bed. He peeled his clothes off and you wriggled out of your tight jeans and soaked underwear. Your hands went behind your back to unclasp your bra and you flung it off the bed, hearing it land on the floor with a soft thud. You laid back down on the bed, fully naked and ready for Dean.

His eyes swept over your naked body and you spied his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. He quickly discarded his underwear and laid on top of you, his firm chest pressing against your naked breasts. You could feel him hard against your stomach and you snaked a hand between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

Your thumb wiped across the slit, catching the beads of precum that were leaking from his tip. His breath caught and you slowly pumped him in your hands. One of his large hands came to rest on your right breast, his thumb brushing against your pebbled nipple. The other hand dipped into your wet folds, collecting your juices on his digits. You watched him suck them off his fingers before they were venturing into you once again. You whined, not wanting to wait another second for his cock to be inside you.

“Please,” you said, squirming beneath him. He had one hand lazily circling your clit and the other pinching and tugging at your breasts.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked, power dripping from his words. You searched for more friction, but couldn’t find any.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I want to feel you inside me please. Fill me up with your big cock.”

“Fuck, baby,” he swore under his breath, before lining himself at your entrance. With a single thrust, he was completely unleashed in you, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He groaned into your neck, still not used to your tightness and warmth surrounding him. When you were adjusted to his large size, he began moving inside you.

His cock dragged along your walls with every thrust, emptying you and filling you repeatedly. Your legs hooked around his back, driving him deeper into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. Your moans bounced off the walls, as did his low grunts.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his fingers working your clit once again. Your eyes clenched shut as you came around him with a scream. He pulled you into a bruising kiss and his thrusts became sloppy as he raced to catch his release, pulling out of you and spilling himself on your chest and stomach. Spent, he rolled next to you, the two of you heaving to catch your breath.

“Wow,” you whispered once your racing heart began to slow. He turned his face towards you, grinning.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before climbing out of bed to get you a damp towel. The two of you cleaned up in silence. He pulled on boxers and you pulled on underwear and his t-shirt, switching the light off before falling back into bed. His arms rested around you, your chests pressed against each other.

“Thank you for taking me on a date,” you said, catching his eyes with yours, “I’ve never been on one before, but I’m glad I waited for you.” You felt his body tense and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Sweetheart,” he started, and you saw regret fill his eyes.

“I should’ve waited for you. I wish I did,” he admitted, his voice tense. You shook your head and tried to press closer to him, but he pulled away.

“Dean,” you asked, confused, but it was his turn to shake his head.

“I never thought I’d meet you. I always thought this—,” he gestured towards your body, “you— I thought it was impossible. The life I live is not made for soulmates. I never imagined myself living a normal life with my soulmate. I couldn’t even bear the thought of it. So I didn’t.”

He ran a hand down his face, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. You tugged at his hand, wanting to see him.

“I know that you have more experience than I do, Dean. That doesn’t bother me,” you tried to explain, but he pulled his hand away from yours.

“You don’t even know half of it,” he snapped back, and you pulled back at his sharp tone.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded, knowing that this conversation had been boiling for a while and that it was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head again. Dean must’ve known it too, because his eyes softened and he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“At first, it was just a bunch of one-night stands,” he started, and you laid stiffly, afraid that he would stop talking if you moved.

“I spent a lot of nights picking up girls in bars. I would flirt with them and take ‘em home. I’d show them a good time and leave before they’d wake up in the morning. It went on like that for years. I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be alive to meet you.

“But then I met Lisa, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to spend another night with a girl. I ended up spending a whole week at her place. I knew she wasn’t my soulmate. I knew that her soulmate died in a car accident years before. I knew that the universe didn’t perfectly make us for each other, but at the time, I didn’t care. Sam and Dad were on a case and I was alone.

“I thought about her a lot during my time on the road. I wanted to cling onto something— I needed to cling onto something. Years passed, and I still didn’t meet you. Me and Sammy ended up working a case in her city. I met her son.”

Your breath hitched. Her son? Dean turned his head towards you at the sound and saw the panic flash across your eyes.

“Oh no, Ben wasn’t my kid. I swear,” he tried to reassure you, but you didn’t feel comforted at the thought, you merely nodded, gesturing for him to resume his story.

“The apocalypse was approaching, and I was scared. I was weak and scared. I didn’t think I’d make it, and I had accepted the fact that I wouldn’t meet you before the world ended. I thought Lisa and Ben were all I had. I dreamed about her, quite a bit, really. I dreamed about having a life with her, mowing the lawn on Saturdays and picking Ben up from baseball practice. I visited her again before the whole Lucifer-Michael showdown happened. I told her that I’d made arrangements to keep her and Ben safe, and she asked me to stay with her, but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to be there for Sammy. For Bobby.

“But then, Sam was in the cage. I was lost and broken. So I did the only thing that I could think of. I left the hunting life and moved in with Lisa.” His words pierced you like a knife, your heart shattering into pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were upset. It wasn’t his fault that the two of you hadn’t met at the time. It wasn’t his fault that he met Lisa before he met you. It wasn’t his fault that he sought comfort in her when you weren’t there for him. You knew it was no one’s fault, just circumstance, but that didn’t keep you from feeling a sting of betrayal.

“How long?” You whispered, knowing that if you spoke any louder it would crack and you would burst into tears. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer. He was silent for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond.

“A year,” he said, his voice hoarse, seemingly filled with regret, concern, and pain. Your stomach dropped. A year? He spent a whole year with her. A whole year with her and her son. Their son. It didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t Ben’s biological father, you already knew that Dean loved him like his own. You let out a shaky breath, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been floating around your mind ever since he started.

“Did you love her?”

You couldn’t even meet his eyes. You looked anywhere but him, your eyes roaming over your ceiling instead of the green eyes that were staring at you. He was quiet, and you closed your eyes, feeling tears spill down the side of your face.

“I thought I did, but I don’t know anymore,” came his whispered reply. “In some ways, it probably was love. But not the kind of love that would survive. I couldn’t live a life without hunting. She couldn’t live a life with hunting.”

You winced at his words. The implication that if they were able to compromise, he wouldn’t be laying next to you right now, but next to her. You wished he had just said yes. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

“Okay,” you said because there was nothing else to say. You contemplated kicking him out of the bed, but you still loved him, and you knew that it would just pain you more. You turned over on your side, your back facing him. You pulled the covers up, wanting them to swallow you whole. There was movement on the bed and you heard the shuffling of sheets, feeling Dean’s warm body come close to yours to hold you, but you tensed up.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, and he stilled before respecting your wishes, retreating back to his side of the bed. You gripped a pillow against your side, hugging it for comfort. You tried to keep your sobs silent, but there was no use hiding them.

You cried for your pain and hurt, wanting to hate Dean, but you couldn’t. You cried for the love lost between the two of you. You cried because you didn’t know if he even wanted you. But most of all, you cried for Dean. You cried for the burdens he’s endured and that you couldn’t be there for him during times of hardship. You cried because you knew that it wasn’t Dean’s fault, yet here you were punishing him because you were really punishing yourself.

As your tears slowed and your breath became steady again, you were exhausted. You were already drifting off to sleep when you felt Dean’s fingers in your hair and a gentle kiss to your forehead. Too tired to argue, you snuggled into his body and let sleep take you away.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

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17. Glass

At first, Susie assumes Norman is just some weird creep. At first, Norman assumes Susie isn’t anything as special as the others hype her up to be. But when he finds out that her discolored eye isn’t just some sort of medical condition of hers, and as the two talk, they realize that they have a little bit more in common than they thought they did. (Set during Susie’s first few days on the job.)

Susie was both excited to the point where she felt like she was walking on air and nervous to the point of nausea.

It was her first week in the big apple, and she already landed a job interview at the promising, brand new animation studio simply titled ‘Joey Drew Studios’. It helped that she had a very impressive vocal range, a lot of pep, and eagerness to work with new people.

And when she presented her resume to the Music director and he in turn offered the role of Alice Angel, she was completely over the moon! While naturally, female characters tended to be underwritten in personality compared to their male counterparts, the personality the Angel did have reminded her so much of herself! She was a friendly gal who loved to sing her heart out and dance, and according to Sammy, would be fleshed out more during the show’s run.

“While they might be reluctant to her at first, she’s really something special, maybe could even be more popular than Bendy someday.”

But as great as the job itself was, the people she worked with were pretty hit and miss, with the acceptation of the music director who was both at the same time.

Luckily, there were more hits than misses, but the misses really... well, missed. Like that projectionist that was often skulking in the shadows and pulling mean pranks on people. Admittedly, she was still upset by their first encounter where he spooked her into dropping hot coffee on her favorite skirt. How on earth could somebody that tall be that quiet?!

But aside from his... odd quirks, the projectionist seemed harmless enough and as long as she did her job and he did his and they didn’t bug each other, then they’d be fine.

-----

Due to Norman’s hobbies, he got good at judging reading people over the years and his new coworkers and bosses were no exceptions. Some were easier to read than others, but he got the gist of most of them down;

Joey? Friendly on the outside, but was hollow on the inside, perhaps soulless even. And not in a way where the man was drained of stuff inside him. He seemed that he was just always like that.

Sammy? Aggressive and weird on the outside, is less aggressive on the inside but only gets weirder the deeper you dig. Norman wasn’t saying that the man was an escaped loony bin patient... but he wouldn’t be surprised if he happened to be one.

Jack? A genuine and friendly fellow, seemed to go with the flow and had a high tolerance and or fascination for crazy. No wonder he seemed to be so close with Sammy.

Susie? A chipper, seemingly headstrong, and naive young woman from the south if he was hearing her accent correctly. She was a sweet singer and good at voices, he’d give her that, but she seemed to be over hyped if anyone was asking him. He wasn’t annoyed by her himself, he was just annoyed with how most of the musicians acted around her, they weren’t inappropriate, but they weren’t hiding their feelings either.

He tried to keep his distance from her most of the time, partly because he sensed he was still mad about the prank going wrong as he didn’t know she was carrying coffee, and partly because he didn’t want to get too close to her only to see the big bad city chew her up and spit her out once it was done fawning over her.

Watching that happen wasn’t as bad as watching what happened to people at his old job, but it would still tug his heartstrings the same way, even if it wasn’t as hard.

-----

It was by chance they met up late at night, Norman was fixing a stubborn projector and Susie was looking for a script that the Janitor accidentally threw out. At first, the former didn’t notice the latter, she came up on his blind spot and he was too busy listening to the projector’s weird sounds to notice the click clack of her high heels.

The machine he was handling was being unreasonable lately, and he was cursing under his breath because of it. He eventually figured out that the machine had a problem with itself AND it’s plug. If he left, he left his booth at risk of catching on fire again, if he didn’t then he’d be leaving the band room at risk of getting caught on fire.

“Too bad I’ve only got the one eye ta keep on yous, I could use another...”

“Oh! I can help with that!”

The man wasn’t sure what he was more caught off guard by: Susie’s presence or the fact that she had just popped her discolored eye right out of her head and set it gingerly on top of the projector. All this time he assumed that it was just infected or something, not made out of glass.

Norman doubled over in hysteric laughter and composed himself a few moments later.

“Well, I do appreciate a good eye for jokes, but I hope you’re bein’ serious about this here projector, I was startin’ ta worry which would catch on fire first...”

Susie gave a thumbs up as she put her eye back into her head. “No problem! I just always wanted to do that joke ever since I got my glass eye, but I don’t mind watching it for a bit for you.”

The projector between them sparked up a bit, making both of them back away.

“...I was starting to worry about that thing myself, actually...”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head no more, now that I know what the problem is, it’s good as done.”

As Norman handled the situation, he returned back to the booth to give her the all clear.

“Situation’s handled, hopefully it won’t make a fuss again for a while.”

“That’s good!” She chipped back, and her eye went to his name tag. “Wait a minute, your last name is ‘Polk’?”

“Yes? At least, last time I checked it, it was...” He looked over her own name tag and something clicked. “...And yours is Campbell?”

“Yes! You were the local undertaker back in Pineville, Louisiana, right?”

“Yeah, but as ya can see I retired from that a while ago.”

“You won’t believe this, but I think I used to live across the street from you!”

“Definitely knew some Campbells in my neighborhood.” He nodded. “All of them were read heads like yourself, so I wouldn’t be surprised. In fact, I think I met your brother a handful of times... ”

“Yep! He told me a lot about you! Who’d think we’d end up meeting up at the studio of all places?”

“Yeah, sure is a small world alright.”

“Well, enjoy your night Norman.”

“You too, see ya tomorrow.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #susie campbell #norman polk #mild eye horror #fanfic #ink demonth

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

A Worthwhile Investment, chapter 2

Please enjoy this Shawn x Grant story. It is a part of my canon.

Thankfully, Shawn and Grant were able to sneak out undetected. Shawn knew the warehouse Norman had told them to meet at- the one Lacie worked in, roughly two blocks from the studio and not visible from it. From there, they called a cab to take them to a bar (as Norman had promised and Shawn had reminded him) and declared themselves safe.

“Uh, sorry the raid was a bust,” Shawn said.

“It wasn’t.” Norman held up a set of keys. “I can go anywhere I want in the studio now, whenever. And I saw Sammy Lawrence wearing a Bendy mask. I knew it. I knew he was a part of this. I’m gonna crack this if it kills me.”

“Sure you will,” Lacie drawled. “Mind telling us why this is your choice of hobby? Like, why are you like this?” Shawn could tell that she was using her friendly cold, judgmental tone, which was different from her genuinely cold, judgmental tone. He hoped Norman could, too.

“Like I’d tell you. What, you think I’d ask for your life story just like that?”

“I’ll tell it. I ain’t got nothing to hide. I was born to two crack-addicted pieces of shit, so I learned to rely on the parents of neighbourhood kids on days they decided not to care for me. It was like that basically my entire life before my sister sorted herself out and I moved in with her. But it taught me I could take care of myself, so I didn’t mind moving with Bertrum wherever he went, and I didn’t cry when he retired.”

“And it’s a good thing he retired, or I might not’ve met Lacie when ah did. Bein’ an immigrant, away from home for the first time an’ barely speaking teh language- it woulda been real lonely otherwise. Of course, Ah make friends easy, but I’m still glad she was one'a them.”

Lacie’s sharp eyes landed on Grant. They’d only met once before and neither had been too comfortable with the other. “And what about you, Grant? Anything interesting in your past?”

“Oh, no. Normal upbringing. Parents who loved me. Nothing special.” It was lame, but it was the truth.

The four of them kept chatting for about an hour.

How did I end up surrounded by the three strongest people I know? Grant wondered. Most of his friends growing up had been cousins or kids of family friends, and his social circle hadn’t diversified much since, until he met Shawn and Norman. Comparatively, these three were freaks. But they were all so respectable, and honestly, Shawn and Norman were some of the best friends he’d ever had.

Life in general had given Grant a lot to be thankful for as of late. The early thirties had been hard on him- after the stock market crashed, he’d gone through a job loss, the collapse of his marriage, some domestic abuse, his divorce, and losing custody of his children. But now? Things were alright. He had a new job, and the studio was, generally speaking at least, holding steady financially. Against all odds, his daughters seemed to be fine living with their mother- maybe she had been serious about working on herself for them. Grant cherished the time he did have with them, and though he hated to admit it, he was much happier divorced. And of course, now he had these two. It was while he was there, listening to the three of them talk, that he realized that he was currently the most content he’d been in years.

Shawn had had a few drinks by that point, and leaned on Grant as though he intended to fall asleep on him.

“I think I should take Shawn home. Norman, can we talk about something tomorrow? In the projector booth.”

“Of course,” Norman said. Something in the way he said it told Grant that he already knew what it would be about.

---

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Norman asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“It’s about Shawn,” Grant started. How much to say? He figured that Norman knew he was gay- very little escaped Norman’s notice, after all- but maybe Norman was only okay with that because he didn’t act on it.

“You know Sammy Lawrence?” Norman mused, looking through the window into the music room. “For a long time, he was dating his- very much male, I should mention- lyricist. I saw them making out once- this gorgeous pretty boy and this middle-aged marshmallow- I guess love is blind and all that. I’ve got no damning evidence of it, but I’d bet anything that Joey Drew is gay as well. And I could go on! This studio has more queer people than you would believe, and my powers tell me about more than just existential dreads.” There was a pause. Norman turned back to look at Grant. “So. As a living lie-detector, one of the best gaydars you’ll ever see on a straight man, and your best friend of over half a decade who would never betray you... you can tell me anything about what’s going on with him.”

Grant gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re okay with this. And yes, I’m considering dating Shawn.”

“Great. He likes you- I could tell.”

“Thanks. But I already knew- he kissed me suddenly about ten days ago. I didn’t know how to react, and I kind of froze up, and I told him that I liked him, but I needed to think about whether we could be together. Up until last night, I thought I’d tell him ‘no-’ I just hadn’t had the willpower to yet. And then I had an epiphany.”

“What was the epiphany?”

“I realized that I respect a bunch of very unconventional people- yourself included- so it’s okay that I’m not perfectly conventional. But... even if it’s not inherently wrong, the idea of acting on it still scares me. If my mother ever found out, it would break her heart. My father would be humiliated if anyone else knew about it, and he might not want to speak to me again. And if it got to my ex-wife, she’d do anything she could to keep me away from my kids- she might even report me. I don’t have to worry about any of that if I don’t act on it. I don’t know... is it even responsible to risk it? These are people I have obligations to. Is it worth it?”

“Well, only you can choose that. But don’t you want a chance at actual love? I mean, I sure like having a loving partner. Why give that up over the risk that someone else might find out?”

“I guess you’re right. Shawn could be my only opportunity for a while. I really don’t know if I want to get involved in whatever culture gay men have going on. If the stereotypes are true, I’d be walking into a group of dangerous people looking to take advantage of a naïve outsider. Of course, they might not be true, but I don’t want to just walk in without knowing. And anyhow, I wouldn’t know how to find anything like that if I tried.”

Norman nodded, taking some time to process everything he’d said. “Alright. Look- you’re overcomplicating a bunch of simple problems by rolling them together into one big problem. Just take it one issue at a time. You want your family to be happy? Make them happy, and don’t worry about something that won’t hurt them. Any partner you might have will know that this kind of thing has to be kept secret, and New York is a big city- you can hide it. You want to date Shawn? Date Shawn. I can tell he makes you happy. You don’t want to get into gay culture without knowing what it’s like? Then don’t. I don’t know anything about their culture, but you have no idea how many gay men are here at Joey Drew Studios. Plenty of people you can ask about it to decide if it’s your thing.”

“Wow. Thank you. You really made that all sound so simple.” Norman had a way of cutting straight to the point.

“Yeah. You’re gonna be okay. Heck, even if you decide not to have a love life after Shawn, I’m glad you’ll be doing it because you’re risk-adverse and not because you’re still ashamed.”

“Thanks again. Now I need to go find Shawn.”

In the end, Grant couldn’t find Shawn before it was time to get back to work, so the next day he left a note in his locker with some flowers. Like a schoolboy. Ridiculous. But that was how Shawn made him feel.

Over the next few years, their relationship went on, and off, and on again. They fought, probably more than the average couple. But overall, they were glad to have each other. It was worth it.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #grant cohen #norman polk #shawn flynn #shawn x grant #my fanfiction

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puckinghell · 5 years

Text

Almost | Nathan MacKinnon

Summary: Every time Nate doesn’t tell you he loves you, he almost does. Until the clock suddenly starts ticking, and almost might not be enough. Words: 5.3k Note: I wrote this all at once and I couldn’t be bothered to read it after to make sure it made sense so excuse me if it doesn’t. We’re in the midst of a global crisis, I couldn’t buy potatoes in the supermarket cause it’s empty, and I don’t have my emotional support dumbass hockey boys, so you can imagine the emotional distress I’m under.

---

Nate isn’t very good at flirting.

He knows that, and he’s known that for a long time. Not only because he’s got pretty good self-insight, but also because his teammates have been telling him for years.

In fact, the first time he went out with Tyson, back when he just came onto the Avs and going out was a big deal to him, Tys shook his head and said: “If you don’t learn how to flirt you’re gonna end up dying alone. With a Cup and enough gold to drown in, but alone.”

Nate loves Tys to death, but he still thinks about that night sometimes and wants to kick Tys in the shin.

Because as much as he’s bad at flirting, he never really thought it was a problem. Surely one day a girl would come into his life and she’d like him so much she would do the heavy lifting, and he could just kinda cruise along. Or maybe one day, when the right girl would come into his life, it would all be easy, suddenly.

Except.

He’s pretty sure that you are the right girl. He has been sure about that for the past two years, ever since you became friends. And yet, you’re still friends. Just friends.

Nate thinks he kinda accidentally put himself in the friend zone. At first he thought it was fine if you were just friends, because it would grow into something more naturally.

But one day Gabe turned to him solemnly and said: “Once she’s put you in the ‘Don’t go there’ part of her brain, you’re not coming out of there, bro.”

He’d waved Gabe off, but now he’s starting to think Gabe was right.

Because in the beginning, sometimes, you’d look at him a certain way, or you’d say something, and Nate was certain you meant it in a flirty way. Was sure he saw his own feelings reflected in your eyes. But those times became less and less frequent and now, he can’t remember the last time you looked at him like that. He only knows that you talk to him about dates you go on, like it doesn’t break his heart to think about you with someone else. And you wrap your arms around him so easy and comfortably, like the butterflies in his stomach when you touch him have no right o be there. And you ask to sleep in his bed with him after late movie nights like the thought of it ever being anything more than sleeping has never entered your mind. Nate thinks maybe he’s missed his window, but he also can’t imagine not ending up with you. So he starts his quest of getting you to notice him in a different way.

It’s shortly after he made that decision that he’s finding himself in Gabe’s backyard, a bottle of beer in his hand as he stands next to EJ who is grilling steaks on the barbecue. Gabe’s summer barbecue is somewhat of a staple, for the Avs, and if he thought that having a baby would mean Gabe’s parties would come to an end, Nate was wrong. Gabe flutters through the backyard with Linnea on his arm like he’s never done anything else. He switches his own beer bottle with Linnea’s bottle of milk – or whatever she’s drinking – between people he chats to, and before too long he shows up next to Nate and EJ. “Looking good,” Gabe whistles, looking at the grill. “Nate, are you staring at Y/N again?” Nate swirls around to face his captain; he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you, but perhaps he was, because he knows you’ve been talking to Josty for the past 15 minutes and he’s not entirely happy about the way Josty leaned into you while he laughed at something you said. “It’s too late, bud,” EJ says, his signature toothless grin appearing. “You’ve waited too long and now she’s going to think you mean everything in a friendly way.” “That’s not true!” Nate starts protesting, even though he knows EJ is just trying to rile him up; but he can’t really make his point because you choose that moment to come over to them. “Are you still not done?” you tease EJ, playfully bumping against his shoulder. “I’m hungry, EJ, can you not grill a little faster?” “Grilling is like art,” EJ grumbles, “you can’t rush it.” “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” you answer, your voice filled with fondness. “Ah, there’s Linnea! Can I hold her?” You make grabby hands at the baby and Gabe easily passes her to you, which, honestly, rude. “You never let me hold her!” Nate sputters, and Gabe shrugs. “That’s because Y/N is responsible and you killed the only succulent you had in your house.” “A succulent is not the same as a baby. I could take care of her.” Nate feels extremely offended, even more so when you giggle. “No offense, but if I had to pick someone to take care of Linnea, it would be Y/N, then Colin, then literally anyone else, before it would be you,” says Gabe. “Even Josty?” Nate whines, and at that moment, Mel steps in next to Gabe, putting her hand on his back. “Are we letting Tyson take care of Linnea?” she asks. “Absolutely no way,” Gabe is quick to answer, and you suppose it’s a good thing Josty isn’t here to hear that. “I was just saying I would let Y/N take care of our little girl.” “Oh, would you?” Mel excitedly grasps your shoulder. “Gabe and I haven’t had a date night in like, months! “Sure, I’d love to,” you answer truthfully. You slide your finger into Linnea’s hand, the baby making excited gurgling noises as she clasps down on it. She’s stronger than she looks. “Can I come?” Nate says suddenly. His cheeks are a little tinted, even though it’s not that warm outside anymore. “It could be like, a babysitting date.” “Oh, of course!” you answer. “That’s a perfect idea, Nate! Mel, we should set up a play date for Linnea with my sister’s baby!” You ignore EJ’s cackling laugh and what sounds like a low groan coming from Nate, instead follow Mel to the porch with Linnea in your hands to plan the play date. EJ slings his arm around Nate, grinning a little wickedly as he says: “So close, Nathan. Almost got her.”

Nate elbows him in the stomach loud enough to earn a disapproving tut from Gabe.

Nate tells Sid about his plan during their monthly FaceTime session. “Good luck with that, dude,” Sid says, and it doesn’t even sound that condescending, coming from him. “What do you think I should do?” Nate knows asking Sid for advice on flirting is like asking a blind man for advice on how to see, but he’s getting desperate and he really, really doesn’t want to have to ask Tys. He’d never live that one down. “Uh,” Sid answers, and that’s about as much as Nate was expecting from him, anyway. “Maybe ask her out to dinner, or something?” Actually, that’s more than Nate was expecting from Sid, because that’s actually not the worst idea. Sure, you’ve gone out to dinner together many times, but it was always very clearly not a date setting; either the other guys were there, or it was at a MacDonalds – Nate doesn’t like to go to junkfood places, but he supposes if Tys was gonna leave any imprint on him, it would be his love for McFlurry’s – or it was just dinner at his apartment, wearing sweatpants and ordering Chinese while watching some dumb Netflix show. His chance to ask you comes quicker than he thought, because he’s still talking to Sid – about hockey, this time, something Sid does actually have great advice on – when you come barreling into his apartment. Your hair is wet from the rain and you shrug off your rain coat with a wave in his direction. “It’s pouring,” you tell him, “and I walked to work, so.” To anyone else, it would be a bad explanation, but it’s not the first time you’ve showed up at Nate’s apartment like this. You like to walk to work when it’s not too cold but sometimes the weather surprises you and you don’t want to walk back in the rain or the wind. Nate’s apartment is a lot closer to your work than your apartment, so it’s become a habit of yours to go to Nate’s on days like that and just hang out in his apartment until you either fall asleep there or Nate offers to drive you home. “Is that Y/N?” Sid asks. “Hey, Y/N!” “Hi Sid!” you call back. “Nate, I’m gonna shower.” “Ask her,” Sid says, which is very pushy for Sid, who usually never tells Nate to do anything, instead just says “If I were you, I would consider” and let Nate figure out the underlying message. “Ask me what?” you ask Nate curiously, eyeing him up and down. He’s glaring at Sid as if Sid said something wrong, and when he looks at you, he doesn’t quite catch your eye. “I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me?” Nate asks. It’s a bit of a formal question for something you do at least once a week, but you shrug it off; Nate is a bit weird, sometimes, and you’re used to that. “Sure,” you say. “Let’s order Thai. Get my usual while I’m showering? I’m hungry.” Then you yell: “Bye Sid!” before making your way to the bathroom. Nate lets out a frustrated sigh and Sid sounds sympathetic when he says: “Almost there, dude. Just, next time, if I were you, I’d consider…” Nate is already not listening anymore.

Today is the day, Nate has decided. He bought roses, which EJ told him is lame and Gabe told him is great idea, and he cooked pasta, for which he used Sammy’s recipe. He’s not a good cook, but Sammy promised it’s impossible to mess up, and he thinks he did alright. He texted you this morning to ask you to come to his place for dinner. You replied with a sure :) and Nate takes that to be a good sign. He has a plan. When you walk in, he’ll take your coat, instantly changing the routine between you, because he normally stays on the couch when you open the door with your key. He won’t be wearing sweatpants, either, not even if he expects you might be; he’s wearing black jeans and a nice button up, and he’s even done his hair. Well, made an attempt to; it didn’t really work out and now it looks kinda the same as always, but hey, he’s really trying, here. Next, he’ll lead you to the table, which he’ll actually have set up, and at that point, surely you understand something different is happening, because a set up table is so different from his normal paper plates and Netflix. Then he’ll give you the roses and confess his feelings. He’s not really thought that part through too much, because every time he thinks about it he almost throws up. So. He’ll have to wing that. The problem, Nate finds out, with planning everything to perfection, is that when one thing goes wrong, the entire plan has to go out the window. Because half an hour after you were supposed to arrive, he gets a text saying sorry I’m late! Be there in 10 and he knows he’s gonna have to reheat the pasta, which Sammy said was not the point of pasta. But he’s not gonna kick off and cause a scene when you arrive, because he reasons it doesn’t really matter, in the grand scale of things. So he sits on the couch and waits. Finally, the door swings open and Nate jumps to his feet, ready to take your coat from you. Except, you’re not wearing a coat; you’re wearing his old hoodie and for some reason his breath hitches in his throat and suddenly he feels like his feet are nailed to the floor, unable to move. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” you call, basically running further into the apartment. “I came from the gym and let me tell you, I have got great news!” “News?” Nate echoes. You stop right in front of him, your eyes shining and a bright smile on your face. Suddenly, you lift an eyebrow, eyes catching on something. “Nathan MacKinnon, did you do something to your hair?” Before Nate can answer, you shrug and continue. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Guess what happened at the gym!” “What?” Nate seems to only be able to repeat what you say, so he decides to stick with that. “I got asked on a date!” Nate thinks if he had one wish, he would wish for the floor to open up beneath his feet and for him to sink through the building, all 7 floors below his apartment, and then down into the ground, until he could bury himself in the dirt. “A date?” You’re so hyped you don’t even notice your best friend is simply repeating your words, barely reacting in any other way. “He’s so hot, this guy, Nate! He comes to the gym every Thursday, just like I do, and we never talk but sometimes I catch him looking, and like, I look back, you know? And today he came over and he asked if I wanted to get a drink, but obviously I had plans with you and I would never blow you off, so I said we could do it tomorrow. I have a date tomorrow, Nate!” In your excitement, you reach forward and wrap your arms around Nate, pressing your face into his chest. His heart is beating fast, and you notice that he kinda just remains frozen into place, so you look up at him with a frown. “Nate? You okay?” That seems to shake Nate from his trance, as he literally shakes himself out of it and slowly puts his arms around you. With a happy sigh, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace. “What are we eating, anyway? I’m hungry.” Nate praises any and every God there could possibly be that he decided to leave the door to the dining room closed. “Whatever you want, we can order,” he answers. “I’m just gonna, uh, get changed.” “I thought you looked fancy,” you grin, letting go of him and dropping onto the couch. “What about Italian?” Hours later, Nate throws away the empty pizza boxes and puts the roses in the bin with them, and then he goes to his bedroom to scream into a pillow. He wants to call you, wants to ask you to not go on a date with that guy. But then he thinks about how excited you looked and he doesn’t call. He doesn’t call, but he almost does, and he thinks that’s a pretty good way to describe how his life is going.

Nate has truly hit rock bottom, which is why he’s scrolling through his phone until he finds the familiar name. “Dogggg!” Tys yells into the phone, because he can never answer the phone like a normal person. “I’m baking chocolate chip cookies!” And Nate is suddenly a little overwhelmed with how much he misses his best friend. “Baking?” he teases. “What kinda mental breakdown are you going through this time?” “Hey, fuck you,” Tys says, but he sounds mellow and not bothered at all. “What’s up?” And Nate has been planning to ease into this conversation, have a little small talk, maybe talk about Toronto and how the coaching change has been working out for Tys, but Tys is his best friend – apart from you – and suddenly he can’t keep it to himself anymore. “I’m in love with Y/N,” he blurts out, and he hears a clank on the other side of the line that sounds suspiciously like Tyson dropping a spoon. “Well, yeah,” Tys comes back, a little too calmly for Nate’s liking. “But I meant like, what’s up with you that’s new, Dogg.” “I need to do something about it,” Nate says, and that seems to get Tyson’s attention, cause he suddenly sounds a lot more interested when he says: “Oh?” “Cause like,” Nate starts, and he knows he’s about to start rambling. “Cause I’m so into her, you know, and I have been for so long, but I don’t think she sees me that way? And maybe if I would’ve done something sooner, she would’ve thought of me as an option, and she wouldn’t be going out with that guy right now..” “Wow hold up,” Tyson interrupts. “Wait, she’s got a boyfriend?” “No!” The force with which that word erupts from Nate’s mouth is maybe a little too telling, cause Tyson immediately goes into ‘calm down Nate’ mode. “Hey, hey, it’s just a date or two, right?” he soothes. “It’s totally not serious yet. And you and her, you’ve got history, dude. She loves you! There’s still time!” “What if she doesn’t love me in that way, though?” Nate asks, and he hates how tiny his voice sounds. “Then she’s got no taste, Nate,” Tyson says, awfully genuine. “You’d be an awesome boyfriend. Hell, you’ve basically been her boyfriend, you two act like a couple all the time.” Nate hadn’t thought of it like that. “Cause like, you’re always hanging out together, right?” Tys continues. “And you bring her to all your events as your plus one. She cooks you dinner at least once a week. You pick her up and drop her off when it’s raining and she doesn’t wanna walk. You always get her a Christmas present. She even bakes your favorite cookies when you’ve had a tough game.” He sounds slightly jealous when he says: “Cookies, bro! That’s true love.” And, well, Nate had always thought that was just a friend thing, but when he thinks about it, he doesn’t really treat any of his other friends that way. Has never picked up his phone at 4 am because Sid was calling, never ran a bath for Tys after a long day. Maybe, in a way, he has been acting like your boyfriend. Except. “We don’t kiss and stuff, though.” Tyson laughs. “And stuff. I bet you want the stuff, huh, bro?” “Shut up,” Nate grumbles, but he’s too thankful for Tyson’s input to put much heat behind it. “Brutes, what do I do?” “You need to complete the package, Dogg,” Tys says, sounding confident. “You’re almost her boyfriend. Now go get that kiss and be it for real.”

Nate is not usually a big drinker, but this, he needs to be super, super drunk for. “Careful,” Burky says, as he watches Nate slam back another shot. “That’s a lot of alcohol, Nate.” “You gonna call Gabe on me?” Nate says, defiant, and Burky shrugs. “No, but if you need to be carried home, I’ll get Z to do it.” That’s enough for Nate to not order another shot right away. “He’s upset because Y/N is here with a guy.” It’s Comphy who speaks, in a dull tone like he’s talking about the weather. Josty, who is with them too, sits up a little straighter. “She came with a guy?” “Shut up,” Nate all but growls. “I didn’t know when I invited her the invitation would be extended.” He really hadn’t; he’d asked you to come out with the boys after the game because he found out you were bringing the guy – Nate purposely forgets his name every time – and he figured he was running out of time. At least if he kept you out all night you couldn’t go home with the guy, and he might find the courage to tell you how he feels. Except then you’d shown up with the guy in tow, and now he’s wondering if it’s possible to drown himself in tequila. He must’ve looked properly miserable for the guys to crowd around him like they are; Gabe went home because he’s a dad now, but Comph and Josty and Burky are all sitting with him, refusing to have fun now that their assistant captain looks ready to commit a crime, and Z and EJ both keep shooting worried glances his way. Nate really doesn’t care. What he cares about is that you’re with with a guy that’s not him, and you’ve barely paid attention to him. He’s just about drunk enough that that annoyance is starting to become unbearable, and just drunk enough that it seems like a good idea to do something about it. “Nate, no…” Burky starts, when Nate stands up, and Comphy reaches for him, but even drunk Nate is quicker than them and he starts pushing his way through the crowd, to where you’re standing with the guy and laughing at something he’s saying. You feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, the grip almost too tight as you’re pushed flat against a muscular chest. For a second, you freeze, ready to fight, but then you smell familiar cologne and you recognize the arms that are wrapped around you in iron grip. “Nate?” you say. “Everything okay?” Nate hums in your ear but it’s not really words; just a low hum that makes something tingle in the pit of your stomach. If only Tom knew the effect Nate has on you, he probably wouldn’t be here. As it is, Tom’s eyes are wide as he stares at Nate. You did tell him you knew people on the team and that’s why you could get tickets to the Avs game so last minute, but you’d forgone the mention that your “contact” is Nathan MacKinnon; for some reason, you didn’t really want those worlds to mix just yet. Maybe that’s why you’d been keeping your distance from Nate, tonight. Normally, Nate isn’t the kinda guy to come chasing you down, but you can smell the alcohol on his breathe and his words slur a little when he says: “Where have you been?” Your heart starts beating a little faster. “Here,” you say, trying to ignore the dark tone to Nate’s voice. To say you’re confused in an understatement: Nate sounds almost angry, but he’s clinging to you like he’s not ever letting you go, so surely he can’t be angry at you. You wish Tom wasn’t here. If you’d been alone, you would’ve dragged Nate outside and talked to your best friend, figured out what’s bothering him, because it’s clear there’s something and you don’t like knowing that he’s carrying it alone. Nate has a tendency to carry the entire world on his shoulders, on his own, even when there’s so many people who would share the burden with him. “Dude,” Tom says, “you’re Nathan MacKinnon!” You feel Nate tense behind you. You know he doesn’t like to be recognized in public spaces but honestly, Tom didn’t speak loudly, and he’s not making a scene, so you wiggle out of Nate’s hold and put your hand on his arm.

Usually, that calms him down. “Yeah, Tom, this is my friend Nate. Nate, this is Tom.” Nate’s face is schooled into perfect indifference as he shakes the hand Tom holds out to him; the only thing betraying that he’s annoyed is the fact that his other, free, hand is balled into a fist and his knuckles are white. “Good to meet you, man,” Tom says. “That was such a nice goal there in the 2nd, holy shit dude! I’m like, such a big fan of you!” You cringe a little as Nate narrows his eyes. “Thanks,” he says, and he could not sound more bored if he tried. Even Tom shifts on his feet and nervously looks towards the floor. Then Nate’s hand finds its way to your lower back, his thumb dipping under your shirt. You feel like all the blood is rushing through your cheeks, and when Tom frowns, you feel like you could pass out. “Nice to meet you,” Nate says, in a tone that makes it clear he’d rather undergo a colonoscopy than ever speak to Tom again. “But can I borrow my girl for a second?” My girl? “Nate, what the…” you sputter, but you’re already being pushed through the crowd towards the exit, and before you know it you’re standing in a dark alley with your back to the brick wall of the club. Nate is standing close, so close you can feel his breath against your cheek when he exhales. His eyes are big and a bit wild, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat as clearly as you can. “Nate…” You mean to ask him what’s going on, but for some reason his name comes out of your mouth in a quiet rush of air, and it seems to do something to Nate, who inhales sharply and drops his head a little, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I hate it,” he mutters, the words soft enough that you can only make them out because it’s just the two of you in the silent outside air. “Hate what?” “Seeing you with him.” Those words hit you like a freight train, and all you manage to bring out is a soft “uhm”. “I can’t watch you with him,” Nate whispers. His hands are against the wall but his chest is pressed up against yours, and slowly but surely, he’s leaning in. And that’s when you realize, oh. Nate is going to kiss you. To your own surprise, that doesn’t shock you. It’s not some big thing that throws the world of its axis, that shakes the ground beneath your feet. It’s just a realization and then a soft, warm feeling of comfort spreading through your body. You want him to kiss you so badly, but it’s not like something is exploding, knowing that he wants it too. Instead, it’s like something finally falls into place.

“Y/N?” a voice goes, and you almost whine out loud. Nate jumps back like he’s been stung. He stares at you with wide eyes, the color drained from his face, and then he turns around and all but runs away. Tom watches him leave, then faces you, and in that moment you know four things absolutely certain. Nate was jealous. You’re never going to go on another date with Tom. Nate almost kissed you. And almost wasn’t enough.

Nate wakes up with a banging headache, the taste of dirt in his mouth and 20 missed text messages. Most of the messages are from Tyson, and there’s one from EJ, who is apparently the one that told Tyson about last night in the first place, because his text simply reads: Had to tell Brutes. You need help. Which is probably fair enough. There’s a text from Josty offering support, one from Burky asking if he got home safe, one from Gabe that Nate doesn’t read because he doesn’t want to see Gabe’s disappointed face every time he closes his eyes for the next few days, and then there’s a text from you. We have to talk. Well, fuck. Nate doesn’t have a lot of experience with relationships, but he knows that’s never a good sign. Nate knows that you know him well enough to have figured out that he was drunk last night, so you probably don’t expect him to be up yet. He takes advantage of that time by taking a shower and brushing his teeth at least four times until he can no longer taste the tequila in the back of his throat, making a cup of coffee and having a freak out at his kitchen counter because surely you’re going to tell him to never talk to you again. Not only did he not have the balls to tell you how he feels about you, he also acted like an asshole to a guy you apparently like – although Nate has no clue why, because he seemed boring as hell – and then he nearly kissed you but instead ran away. Not a great track record. It’s nearly noon when he finally gathers up the courage to call you. After all, you’ve given him two years of friendship, so that’s the least he can do. “Hey,” he says softly into the phone when the connection clicks through. “It’s Nate.” “I know,” you answer, and he’s surprised by how light your tone is. “I have caller ID, Nate. Have had it for years.” It throws him off, how normal you sound. There’s nothing in your voice to betray that you’re mad at him, or that you hate him. He almost forgets what he was going to say. Almost, but not quite. “I’m really sorry about last night,” he blurts out. “Do you mind if I come over so we can talk about it?” “Uhm,” you hesitate, and Nate’s heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. “Actually, I’m almost at your apartment.” “Oh.” Nate had not expected that. “Uhm, okay. I’ll be here, then.” You laugh. “Yeah, I hoped you would be. See you in a bit, Nate.” It takes you another 6 minutes to arrive; Nate knows it’s exactly 6 because he stares at the hands of the clock while he waits, while simultaneously thinking of all the possible scenarios in which you could break his heart. When you walk into the kitchen, he feels like he’s about to throw up. “You don’t look great,” is the first thing you say to him. “Have you had breakfast? You know hangovers get worse when you don’t eat.” And that’s... Not quite what Nate was expecting. “Yoohoo, Nate?” You wave your hand in front of his pale face, as Nate stares at you and doesn’t speak. “Are you okay?” “You hate me,” Nate blurts out then, and instantly his eyes fix on the floor in shame. “Or, you should.” You frown. “Why? Because you were a jealous dick last night?” Nate’s face turns from white to a bright shade of pink. You smile, walk to Nate who’s sitting on a barstool at the counter, and carefully push open his knees, so you can slide in between his legs. If Nate’s eyes go any wider, you worry they might fall out. “Last night,” you repeat, “you were jealous. Of Tom.” It’s not a question, but Nate still nods, avoiding your eyes as he does. “And then you were going to kiss me.” Not a question either, and this time Nate doesn’t respond. “Nate,” you say softly, and the warmth in your tone must be what finally gets Nate to look up at you, his eyes locking with yours. “Do you still want to kiss me?” “I do,” Nate says. His voice is a little shaky but he needs to get this out, because he needs you to know this. “I always want to kiss you.” “Why haven’t you?” you ask. The answer is not really an answer, but it means everything anyway. “I almost did,” Nate says. “So many times, Y/N. So many times I almost did.” “Almost, almost,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, and then you slide your hands behind Nate’s neck and kiss him. He almost stumbles, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid he’ll fall right onto the floor if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. But he’s kissing you back right away, his mouth soft yet forceful at the same time. Like he’s never going to stop kissing you. You don’t think you ever want him to.

It’s late at night and the streets of Denver are quiet beneath Nate’s apartment. He’s laying on his back and you’re draped across his chest, naked bodies tangled together under the sheets. He’s not sure if you’re asleep; your breathing is shallow and even, but every now and then your fingers tighten around where they’re wrapped around his arm, and he wonders if you’re dreaming, or simply checking if he’s still there. As if he would ever leave. Nate can’t help himself; he lightly presses his lips against your hair, the ghost of a kiss against your skin. You hum softly. “Nate?” “Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s me.” A lazy giggle escapes your lips. “Thank God it’s not someone else.” The silence returns, but this time it’s heavy with something Nate knows you’re not saying. “What are you thinking about?” he mumbles, tracing circles on the naked skin of your back. Your answer shakes something inside of him. “That I almost didn’t get to have this.” He thinks of all the times he almost said something to you but didn’t, and curses himself for all the time lost. “Almost didn’t, but we did, and that’s what matters, right?” he speaks into the darkness.

You smile.

You know you’re not dreaming, but you almost can’t believe you aren’t.

Almost.

#nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl imagines

587 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Play by my rules

Summary: Trying to get over the break-up with your fiancé you spend a week with a foreign man. No names. No rules. No seeing each other again. What happens when you stumble into him again?

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester x Jess Moore, Ofc’s

Warnings: angst, comforting, fluff, shitty father, language, protective Dean, arguments, implied smut/light smut, pregnant reader, making-out, dirty talk, mentions of cheating

What daddy doesn’t know Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Six months later…

“You’re such a naughty girl,” Dean muses, lips travelling down your neck while you try to concentrate on the recipe. “Wearing nothing but one of my button-ups while you cook my favorite meal. Barfoot, half-naked, and pregnant. That’s how I imagined you.”

“Dean,” you scold your husband, as he tries to slip one hand into your panties. “I’m wearing your shirt as it’s comfortable. I’m barefoot as it’s unbearable hot and I cook your favorite meal for our dinner with my parents.”

Dean hums, looking over your shoulder to dip his finger into the sauce, moaning as he slips his other hand into your panties to toy with your clit. “Such a needy little cunt you have.”

“If you don’t stop distracting me I will burn the food, Dean. Please, stop,” nibbling at your neck Dean smirks. “Dean.”

“Just let me feel your pretty pussy for a few minutes,” you whine when Dean hastily opens his pants. “If you want me to survive another dinner with your father and brother, I need encouragement, sweetheart.”

“You invited them,” ignoring your protests Dean shoves the button-up you stole from him up to your waist to get a glimpse of your bare ass. “It was your idea. I would’ve preferred to meet up with my mom.”

“Baby girl,” husking the pet name into your ear Dean runs his fingers up and down your slit. “You’re so wet for me.”

"Jesus, you needy bastard,” he laughs at your words, his sweatpants drop to the floor. “I need to watch the food,” you feel the head press against your opening, moaning as Dean whispers dirty promises into your ear.

“Feel this?” Dean places his hands on your hips, already inching his way into your body. “You make me so hard, sweetheart.”

“Shit, baby,” you enjoy the delicious burn Dean’s girth causes, “You’re so deep inside of me, Dean. I love how your cock stretches me out.”

“I know you do,” your husband grins hands gently rubbing your four-month baby bump. “Do you know how hard you get me as you are having my baby? I filled you with my child,” he whispers against your sweet spot, pecking it softly. “I’m gonna fuck you so deep.”

“Dean, in not three hours my parents will drop at our place along with your brother, Jess, and my brother,” pushing back onto Dean you keen. “Fuck me fast.”

“As you wish…”

“Sam,” you greet Dean’s brother. There is still not much love between you and Sam. Sam tried anything to win your trust but so far, you only warmed up for his fiancé, Jess.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam tries to hug you, but you turn to greet his fiancé, ignoring Sam’s pained expression. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Dean wanted a family dinner to announce something,” you try to hide your baby bump underneath a wide shirt but Jess nods knowingly. “He said we shall invite our family’s so…that’s that.”

“Will you ever forgive me?” sighing Sam watches you turn your attention toward Jessica. “Y/N, I apologized repeatedly. I know what I said back then was hurtful, but I try to make things up to you, Y/N.”

“Sammy, give my wife time,” Sam gasps at Dean’s words. “Be lucky she let you be at our nice intimate wedding,” nodding Sam looks at you. His eyes widen when you place one hand onto your belly. “Let’s prepare for her family. You will love her brother, Sammy. He’s a pain in the ass.”

You snicker at Dean’s words while you open the door wider to let Sam and Jessica inside. Jessica slings one arm around your shoulders, whispering something into your ear Sam can’t hear.

“I’m glad you came. My family is stressful, to say the least. I am afraid my brother and father won’t like the good news Dean wants to announce. He could need backup,” you grin, poking Sam’s chest. “What are brothers for if not to share the bad days too.”

“Bad days, huh?” Sam looks at you, searching your face but your serious expression tells him you are not joking. “If you need us, we are here for you.”

“Jason is a bit,” you sigh, not wanting Sam to know your brother is more than a bit annoying, “hard to handle. Don’t get me wrong, I love him but, he doesn’t care about me as you do for Dean.”

“In other words, Jason is an idiot who gives a shit on my wife. He wanted to know about the Singer deal and didn’t stop bugging me when we met for the first time,” Dean pecks your cheek, humming when you wrap your arms around him. “Her mom is nice, though. Be nice to her.”

Sam awkwardly stands in your living room, hoping you will open your heart for him one day while he tries to process your father is worse than his own.

“Mom,” smiling you hug your mother tightly. “I’m glad you came. I made your favorite pie, and we got the ice cream you like so much.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” your mother chokes out and you frown, seeing her lips start to quiver. “I couldn’t wait to get out of the house today.” You can hear the sadness hidden behind her friendly words. Her smile, it doesn’t reach her eyes and you know something must’ve happened.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, welcome to our home. You look beautiful,” Dean smiles, pecking your mother’s cheek. “I can’t decide who’s prettier. You or my wife.”

“Wife?” your father grunts, looking at Dean with angry eyes. “Since when do people call a girl they spend their nights with ‘wife’?” your father spats, eyes drifting toward you.

“Well, I married your daughter four months ago, this makes her my wife,” Dean’s eyes are cold, and even Sam’s flinches when his elder brother steps in front of you to shield you from your father’s angry eyes. “Y/N is my wife. I must ask you to respect her at my house. My house, my rules.”

“I get it, Mr. Winchester,” your father’s eyes drift toward your mother and your stomach tightens when he narrows his eyes, giving her a warning glare. “You handle your wife, I handle mine.”

“I don’t think my wife would appreciate if I ‘handle her’,” Dean’s body goes stiff and you need to place one hand onto his bicep to calm your husband. “We should go to our dining room and enjoy the dinner my wife prepared.”

“A wonderful idea,” your mother nods, giving Dean a soft smile, a genuine one this time. “Let’s enjoy the food Y/N made.”

“The roasted chicken is delicious, sweetheart,” Dean pecks your cheek, giving your thigh a soft squeeze. “All you cooked tastes like heaven.”

“Dry,” your father coughs. “The bird is too dry and the sauce too salty. I guess Y/N needs to practice more often. A woman should know how to cook and not only concentrate on her career.”

“Luckily, Y/N is my wife, not yours,” Dean bites back. “My wife can have a career and live her life the way she wants to. Y/N is fully capable to decide what she wants.”

Your mother smiles anytime Dean defends you. “I’m glad my Y/N found you. She looks so happy since she met you, Dean. Scott, he never made her smile like you.”

“Y/N does the same to me, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Dean says, giving your mother a soft smile. “I never was happier than with Y/N by my side. She gave me everything. Love. Her heart. A beautiful wife. A home and,” Dean’s smile grows when he gets an ultrasound picture out of his jacket. “my son.”

“Son,” your father chokes on his wine, looking at the ultrasound picture in Dean’s hand. “So, that’s the reason you married her. Without that ring, she would carry a bastard.” The words barely left your father’s lips before Dean jumps over the table to fist your father’s tie.

“You son of a bitch dare to come here and insult my wife. You dare to call my son, the child in my girl’s belly a bastard. What kind of father are you?” Sam needs to jump up to hold his brother back or he would kill your father. “Y/N is nothing but loyal to you, your awful son, and your wonderful wife. Why are you such a prick?”

“Dean, he’s not worth it,” your mother sniffles, placing one hand onto your husband’s shoulder. “He never understood how to treat a woman right. He’s a liar, a cheater and an awful person.”

“Mom?” you hug your mother tightly when she begins to cry. “What happened? I knew something is off. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I caught your father red-handed with our neighbor. She’s my friend for over 25 years. I considered her family only for her to stab me in the back,” you run your hands up and down your mother’s back, try anything to soothe her.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grits out. “Sammy, help me get that piece of shit out of my house before I rip his head off.”

“Is that the reason Jason and Erica didn’t come tonight?” your mother nods, looking up at you with tear-clouded eyes. “They know?”

“I called him, asked if I can stay for a few nights but Jason said there is no space at their house. I think they are planning for a baby or something,” you sniffle, hating your brother let your mom down. “I didn’t want to bug you during your honeymoon phase.”

“You will stay with us,” Dean says before you can find your voice. “No discussion. We got three guest rooms. You can stay as long as you want to and watch your grandson grow up. Never believe you disturb us.”

“Thank you,” your mother’s voice cracks when she looks at your husband.

“We will get your things tomorrow. Don’t worry. This is your home from now on too,” you smile at Dean as he starts to drag your father out of his house, cursing under his breath. “Get out of my house and never come back.”

“My brother and I will get your wife's belongings tomorrow. You better don’t try anything or I will sue you. I’m a lawyer and love to sue people like you,” Sam threatens. “Now you better shove your ass out of my brother’s and Y/N’s house before I forget myself and give you more than a black eye…”

“I can’t thank you enough,” your mother looks around the huge guest room, smiling as you got her favorite pillows and blanket. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Mom, you don’t have to thank me or Dean. You are my family, just like Dean’s,” you sit on the bed, glancing at the pictures your mother placed onto the nightstand. “I’m sorry dad cheated on you mom.”

“I knew he did it before, you know,” huffing your mother looks at her ring finger. She took her wedding band off the moment, Dean, Sam and you returned with her belongings. Your father didn’t even try to win her over again, too busy to celebrate his new freedom. “I should’ve left him years ago. He didn’t treat me well for years.”

“I know, mommy,” you lean your head against your mother’s shoulder, sighing deeply. “I had hoped he would change his behavior when he gets to know he’s going to be a grandfather, I was wrong.”

“How’s your mom?” Dean gently massages your shoulders to help you relax. “Does she like the room? Did you explain the steam shower to her? Do we need to get more pillows for her?”

“She’s sad as dad cheated on her, again,” you lean into Dean’s touch, “but I think she likes the room and to be here. Thank you, Dean.”

“You don’t need to thank me, baby girl,” he pecks your neck, whispering your name. “I love you. Your mom is my family too and I meant what I said, Y/N. Our home is her home now too.”

“I love you too, Dean. You gave me the same things you named during our dinner, Dean. I’m glad I followed you to your suite back then,” Dean snickers, hands now moving to your belly to feel his son. “Not only as you have that magic dick.”

“You are one naughty girl,” you nod, feeling his hand move down to your panties. “I guess daddy needs to show you how much he loves that you are in his life.”

THE END...

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#What daddy doesn’t know Masterlist #ceo!dean Winchester #ceo!dean #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean x reader #dean x you #angst #pregnant reader #light smut #Play by my rules

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cherry3point14 · 4 years

Text

The Wrong Winchester - One Year Later

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Eileen Warnings: Cavity protection required. Word Count: 12,304. (WHY) Summary: One year after the fiasco that was Fourth of July, you’re back in Kansas and back at the Winchesters. This time with their other son. A/N: A sequel for the trope fluff fest that was The Wrong Winchester. Somehow this is fluffier and more trope-y! Listen, I didn’t say it was good, just that it exists. Happy 4th July my bitches! (*sobs in the corner* this was supposed to be a timestamp)

Ao3 if you prefer.

June has been cool this year, more so than normal, but then the heat of July hits like clockwork. Even though you enjoy airplanes, and the AC they provide, you’ve done the drive because Dean hates flying. It’s not even a compromise because the detour your journey takes means that it’s Thursday evening by the time you arrive in Lawrence. Sam and Eileen got there mid-morning. You’re hoping that the Winchesters are so distracted getting to know her that you can slip in like an old piece of furniture, unnoticed and ignored.

It’s when he turns the corner onto their street, and the family home looms in the distance, that it hits you. You’re here, again, and you’re doing this, again. And nobody would ever believe it but this is considerably worse because this time you love the guy sitting next to you.

Not that you’ve told him that yet. It’s been a slow year.

Loving Dean does complicate things though. It means that you care what the Winchesters think of you. Last year, pretending, was a walk in the park in comparison. You knew Sam was fake breaking up with you after you left. You could have cheated on Sam in front of him and it wouldn’t have mattered because it was all, well, fake.

Although you did kind of cheat on Sam in front of him. Boy, did you hope Sam hadn’t told them about that.

Now, the house you’re pulling up at makes your toes curl inside your shoes while hurried excuses start pouring out. “You’re positive you don’t want to stay in a hotel? Take the pressure off your mom having to entertain us and Sam and Eileen. That’s a lot of guests.” You nod to yourself convincingly while you stare at the front door.

He smiles at you like you’re adorable, which you don’t appreciate. “If you’re looking to make her hate you, then yeah, go ahead and tell my Mom you’re taking her firstborn to a hotel for the weekend.”

You huff and pout your lips so he knows exactly how frustrated you are, “I know you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“When are you ever?” He counters, smirking as he gets out of the car. You follow suit although you’re convinced that as your foot hits the stone driveway you can hear the ticking of a countdown. One small step for you, one giant leap to your doom.

Dean grabs your case and his duffel from the trunk, settling one on top of the other so that he has a free hand to wrap around your waist. It’s probably a picturesque image, him walking you to the house like that. You’re not sure if he’s being nice or making sure you don’t run away. Dean’s a smart man so it’s probably a little of both.

His hand reaches to open the door but even after the long drive from Chicago, your reactions are lightning-fast. You pull his arm back to stop him and answer the silent look on his dumb face, “shut up. We should knock.”

“Did you give Sammy this much trouble last year?”

His joke drags a smile out of you, not a laugh but a smile. He’s been trying to calm you down the whole journey. You don’t get nervous often, so seeing you this anxious has both worried and amused him. He’s settled for being supportive, he’s done everything he can to take your mind off of this moment. He told you exaggerated fake facts about Kansas to stop you complaining that the entire state was too damn hot. He distracted you with questions about the case you’re working on when you panicked about exactly how Sam had explained everything all those months ago. And most importantly he fed you. A few hours out he’d pulled into a drive-through and minutes later you’d found yourself pulled over on a random stretch of highway, legs crossed, and a brown paper bag in your lap. He’d wiped sauce from the corner of your mouth and watched you wolf down cheese fries.

Dean knew how to keep you happy for the hours you’ve spent in Baby. But now that you’re finally standing at the threshold he, apparently, thinks it’s time to throw you to the wolves, which he does, literally.

In one swift movement, the door is open before you can rap your knuckles against it and he uses his arm—the one that’s around your waist—to guide you inside. Except guiding you inside is more like a gentle push, which means you trip your way into the Winchester family home while Dean remains safely on the porch.

“What the f-?” The end of your sentence never makes it past your lips, thankfully, considering the gathering in the living room as you turn your head.

Sam and Eileen are sitting opposite Mary and John, all of them holding a drink, clearly mid-conversation. They all stop. Four pairs of eyes are now trained on you. Even after a too-long second has passed none of them move as if your presence has frozen them in time. A perpetual state of being horrified by your existence.

“Dean!?” You don’t exactly shout but there’s a worried twang to your voice and still, none of them move. In fact, Sam doesn’t even attempt to help, which is a betrayal you won’t allow to pass unpunished or forgotten.

That’s for another day. Right now you’re about thirty seconds away from your first actual panic attack in years.

Dean slips in behind you, eventually. Even walking in with the bags he’s more graceful than you had been stumbling in. Not that you compliment him on that. You’re too preoccupied because you might have broken the Winchesters.

“Honey!” Mary beams with happiness at the sight of her eldest son and jumps up from her seat like a mannequin come to life. Whatever spell had been cast breaks so quickly that it might not have happened at all. Every single person takes a breath again and Mary walks over, wine forgotten on the coffee table, to hug Dean the way you’d seen her do a year ago.

“Mom!” He hugs her back, wrapping her up in his arms and lifting her from the floor an inch or two. You want to say he’s the cutest thing ever with that childlike smile on his face.

That’s what you want to say.

Unfortunately, the innocence doesn’t last as his expression morphs into a cocky smirk with a waving hand in your direction once he lets his mother go. “You remember Y/N, right?”

Is he freaking kidding?

Mary’s face steels, as if Dean had never entered the room. Your best friend and his girlfriend, who you know pretty well at this point, remain safely in their seats. And your boyfriend, your goddamn boyfriend who you love and trust, is standing there at an arm's length like this is an early fireworks display. The fuses have been lit and he is waiting for the explosives to go off.

The only person in the room who dares to make eye contact with you—outside of the matriarch—is John freaking Winchester. And he has the audacity to smile sweetly at you. Or as sweetly as John Winchester is capable of.

“Of course I remember Y/N.” Mary’s words are friendly but her tone does not mirror the sentiment. She taps her chin with one extended finger, thinking, “you were on Sam’s arm last year, if I remember rightly.”

You were going to murder Sam and thanks to your job you’d get away with it too. “I’m so sorry Mary, Sam told me he explained. It was all a misunderstanding, I was only…”

“Only jumping around between my boys? Or was the misunderstanding when we welcomed you into our home and you lied to us?”

You may have met your match. You could never admit this to the district attorney's office but Mary has found a way to silence you with a stare. Your lips snap shut without a good answer for her. You feel like a child being chastised for making a mess.

In fairness you had made a mess last year, however, you cleaned it up afterward.

Your eyes dart to the still-open front door before you rummage up an answer. “I don’t think jumping between them is very fair, Sam and I weren’t a real thing. I mean we’re still besties, even if he won’t call us that, but we were pretending. Which is still wrong but I defy any of you to say no to him when he does that dopey puppy face of his. Anyway I know he told you it was his idea, because it was, and I made sure he told you that because I don’t want you thinking that I came up with it and…”

“Great, you got her stuck in a loop, Mom.” Dean grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

“What?” You interrupt your own rambling to frown at him.

That’s when it happens. Mary breaks out into a grin so similar to Dean's that it’s frightening. If Sam got his smile from his mother then Dean inherited her devious smirk.

“It was your idea.” She answers your seemingly caring boyfriend.

You’re confused, as you should be. Hours. Days. Weeks of dreading this moment and this weekend. None of this makes any sense.

“I hate to sound like a broken record but, what?”

Mary turns her brightness on you, in the distance, John barks out a laugh and cracks his hand against his thigh as if this all went completely as planned.

“I’m sorry Y/N. We were only playing. It’s great to see you again.”

Then she hugs you, stiff as you may be from the complicated mix of annoyance and residual fear that you’re feeling. Her arms around you exude motherly warmth, something you’re unfamiliar with, until your muscles relax in her grip.

Over Mary’s shoulder, Dean is pressing his lips together to stop himself laughing and then finally your brain catches up. That bastard set you up. He sold you down the river. Still mid-hug you silently mouth to him, “I’m going to kill you.”

That sends Dean over the edge and a deep belly laugh escapes him. He doesn’t even attempt to apologize. He’s too caught up in how funny he thinks he is.

“So, you were all in on this? You too Sammy?” You splay your hand across your chest now that Mary has released you.

Mary links her arm with yours and leans in as if she didn’t rob you of ten years of your life, “if it helps Eileen told us we were being mean.”

You smile at Eileen, your now very good friend, as you take a seat next to her, “at least someone has my back.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, “well, Sam’s girlfriends need to stick together.”

And just like that. The final knife in your back sets them all off howling with laughter again. This was obviously going to be a long weekend.

It's not even day one, that starts tomorrow. It's been a few hours at best and you're already in bed and staring a hole in the ceiling. Ordinarily, you might be questioning why there is a suspicious rectangle that is whiter than the rest. As if the patch of paint had seen less light than the rest of the room like a poster had been there or something.

“You gotta tell me.”

You scoff. He has done nothing to earn any answers from you so far. Looking after you during the journey must have been an act to lull you into a false sense of security because he jumped ship as soon as you arrived. Winchesters are a tight-knit bunch.

“Come on, please?”

It sucks that you love this idiot, it sucks that you haven’t told him, it’s even worse that you cannot resist him. You roll over to his whining voice and prop yourself up on your elbow. It was foolish to ever hope for a good night's sleep when he’s amped up to be in his childhood home again. You can’t say that you remember him being like this last year but, then again, last year you were avoiding him since you were pretending to date his brother. “Oh my god, if I tell you will you let me sleep already?”

Dean nods, using a finger to draw a cross over his chest. Even in the dark, you can see the crinkles of his eyes deepen playfully, “cross my heart. I’ll even help you get off to sleep, by way of apology.” His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear to hint at his meaning, under his oversized Zeppelin shirt you’re sleeping in.

“Nice try Benedict Arnold, I haven’t forgotten what you did to me.”

He knows by the tone of your voice he won’t get anywhere right now, although it’s nothing to do with his betrayal. You’re still obsessed with somehow clawing back any semblance of a good impression. Sex in his childhood bed doesn’t strike you as the correct way to go about that. He doesn’t tease and try to change your mind with filthy words he knows you love. You think maybe Dean knows tonight isn't the night either. Maybe that’s why he’s asking questions instead.

His hand slides up over your waist and settles comfortingly around your middle—almost as if he knows he has some groveling to do. He asks again hoping to get one of the things he wants; answers. “C’mon. Just tell me. I’ll tell you mine.”

You haven’t spoken much about last year with Dean and you were absolutely fine with that. Last Fourth of July wasn’t exactly a Kodak moment for you. It almost cost you Sam and as much as you love Dean, Sam’s friendship is one of the very foundations of your adult life. Sure last year was the kind of thing you’ve joked about, but the nitty-gritty details had stayed where they should, in the past.

However, being back here, albeit in the next room over to the one you’d previously occupied, has apparently opened the topic up for conversation.

“Fine. You really want to know?”

“With all my heart.”

“God, you’re lucky you’re cute. At the airport. Okay?”

His smile widens until you can see his teeth shine. “You’re joking?”

You bury your face in the pillow, only coming up for air when necessary despite the way he pokes your sides to make you squirm. “No, I’m not joking. I wasn’t sleepy getting off the plane. I was trying to figure out if there was a way for me to make out with my fake boyfriend's hot older brother.”

“You were too good for your fake boyfriend anyway.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, “too good for me too.”

He shouldn’t be allowed to catch you off guard like that, it’s against the rules. Yet he does it all the time. The sweetest secrets whispered in your ear while you’re brushing your teeth or watching a movie. As if he needs to tell you as soon as the thought pops into his head. And it’s not fair because he deserved some silent treatment or something. You know he’ll be back to his tricks tomorrow, so he should pay tonight. But now instead of being annoyed at him, your lips are following his while you realize you were never really mad in the first place.

His wandering hand moves to wrap around your neck, his fingers are lost in your hair and his thumb traces over your jaw. This is the classic Dean trick. He thinks he’s so smooth and that one day he’ll manage to keep you attached to his mouth forever if he holds you there, just right.

As much as you want to appease him, it never lasts. Eventually, you always need air in your pesky, needy lungs. Tonight though it ends with your hand on his chest nudging him off of you. “No way. You owe me yours. Come on, when did you start like-liking me?” You finish the question in a sarcastically childish voice.

Dean is nothing if not fair, sometimes, and he would never break a promise. He leans back a little and adopts what you have dubbed his ‘thinking face’. It may be nighttime but you’d recognize that furrowed brow anywhere.

“When I found you in my bedroom.” He finally answers.

It takes a whole second to remember. “Really? You mean when I was trying to find the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I mean a guy comes back to his room and finds a pretty girl...”

It’s your turn to frown, “wait. Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re saying that your ‘moment’ was when you found me in your room, in my pajamas, with bed head and a full bladder?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You were all cute an’ twitchy when I caught you, then suddenly you’re all fired up and telling me off for making fun of you. You were a little spitfire.”

You drop your forehead to his chest and let out a laugh. Trust Dean to like you because you busted his balls.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “good enough answer?”

You yawn, happily, and shimmy down into bed proper. “It was your game De. The question is are you happy with yours?”

He settles down next to you, close enough to hear the deep, “mm hmm” in his throat.

Almost everything is different this year but one fact remains the same. You can take the running gear from Sam but you can’t stop Sam from going running.

He has emergency running shoes in his closet.

The new part is that you’re up as early as he is. You’re sitting on the sofa with your laptop propped up on your knees, with yet another witness statement that you were sure was made up. It was too perfect and a jury would never buy it.

By the time Sam, the sweat machine, returns you’re typing a passive-aggressive email to that effect.

“You had any coffee yet?” He asks with two mugs in his hands, passing one to you.

You take the mug without looking up from the screen and swallow a scalding sip, which you only half notice burns your tongue. “Obviously not. Your mom is in there and she still scares me.”

He laughs but doesn’t question it. He doesn’t need to. Dean may have dealt with you on the long drive and whenever he was in town but Sam deals with you every day. He has been privy to almost every one of your breakdowns in the last month. June felt longer than thirty days.

Sam sits down next to you and starts watching the news channel you’d been ignoring. It takes a minute but eventually, he grabs the remote to pause the screen, “ah, there’s my favorite celebrity lawyer.”

You don't need to look up to know that you are on the TV.

“I won’t be anyone’s lawyer if I don’t figure out why my client insists on lying to me and getting people to lie on his behalf.” Your fingers get dangerously close to pounding the plastic keyboard into smithereens. “Hasn’t he heard of attorney-client privilege?”

“Okay. I think you need a little break from that.” He says prying the laptop from you and closing it on the coffee table, so you can’t see the screen anymore.

You want to be mad at him but, of course, you can’t. You look up at him and his soft smile that’s all kinds of sympathetic to the workload you’ve been bearing of late. If you weren’t being driven insane by the biggest case of your career then maybe you’d be a little more rational when it came to this weekend.

Although, that’s unlikely. You were always going to go crazy about this particular get together.

“I swear sometimes I think he’s actually stupid. I’m trying to help him. Why did he even think he could escape arrest in the third most populated city in America?” You shuffle yourself so that you’re sitting sideways and facing him. Despite your insults about your client, the question is earnest.

“Probably figured it’s the only way he’d get to hire you.”

You roll your eyes, “sure, that’s why I’m co-counsel to fucking New York’s finest Marcus Delaney, who he trusts like a fucking brother.”

Sam widens his eyes at you in warning but you catch on too late; his mother is in the next room. You both hold your breath waiting for a reaction. When nothing happens you relax and he answers the least important part of your statement, “technically you’re a New York native too.”

“Objection, relevance?”

“Well, you mentioned…”

“Nah-uh. Enough about me. You took my laptop away so now we have to talk about you.” You smirk into your cup.

Sam knows where this is going. He told you his news two entire weeks ago, it worked like a charm and was also the biggest mistake of his life. Because two weeks ago Sam invited you to his office for lunch and told you over takeout that he was getting married.

He wanted to tell you because you’re his best friend. He’d told you before Dean and sworn you to secrecy until he’d called his brother later that day. Both of you knew the news was coming anyway, so it wasn’t really a race. Sam had been wringing his hands over how to ask the love of his life for weeks before he did it. You only found out about the ‘yes’ before Dean, because Sam had been trying to calm you down after another ‘4th of July freak-out’.

Sam had forgotten what happens if a seven-year-old gets their hands on too much sugar. Or, to be more precise, what happens when he gives a big, juicy, sensitive piece of information to you. Now he can't get you to shut up about it.

He sighs. He’s still facing the TV even though your eyes are on him. “I should have let you keep working, shouldn’t I?”

“Too late for that, Sammy. Have you decided when you’re telling everyone yet?”

He shifts to side-eye you, “oh, yeah. I was thinking, how about never?”

“You can’t bring your devoted fiance home for the weekend and not tell them!” You’re keeping your voice low but it’s insistent all the same.

“Ok. What about at the airport?”

“We’re dropping you back to the airport.”

“Right, before that then.”

You laugh, “why did you even come this weekend if you’re going to chicken out?”

“I’m not going to chicken out but, would it be so bad if I did? I brought you last year to avoid my Mom's crazy and now… I mean this will be like Defcon two.”

You wonder, briefly, what triggers Defcon one. Considering how quickly Mary had asked you if you were pregnant last year, you’d wager it’d be grandchildren.

In the pause where you both sip your morning caffeine again, neither of you notice the slight creak. The kind of creak where a door begins to open but never does.

“All I’m saying is, getting married is an amazing thing. It’s time to share the happy news. Hell, I’ll go wake Dean and we can do it now.”

“That’s easily the worst idea you’ve ever had. And I’m including the outfit you wore to the first office Christmas party.”

He’s walking right into your trap. “I dusted that number off for your brother over Christmas, you know.”

“Oh god. I don’t need to know about you and-and him-and a sexy Santa's helper costume.” He actually gets up, sweeps his mug with him, and sours his face.

“You brought it up, Sammy!” You're grinning all wide and evil, calling after him.

He pauses with his back leaning against the kitchen door, at the same time that Eileen walks in. “I hate you.”

You look up at her and sigh, “you see the way he talks to me when you’re not around?”

This is not the first time Eileen has been caught in the middle of you two, so she laughs and promises, “I’ll talk to him about that.”

Sometimes Dean likes to yank your chain and sometimes you like to yank his. It’s what makes you kind of perfect for each other, any bruised egos or pouting lips are part of the game you play. An excellent example is the way he’d betrayed you already this weekend. You weren’t mad, well, maybe a little, but in the end, you forgave him because it’s him.

In all the jokes there’s one thing that Dean knows not to play around with, one thing that he wouldn’t dare mess with.

Winchester. Family. Baseball.

You had agreed to wear his dumb spare jersey the same as you’d done for Sam. Like Eileen was doing for Sam this year. Although you had to admit her shorts are a little more family-friendly.

You’d even made a sign. A big piece of poster board, some markers, glitter, and stickers that you had gone to Target to buy special. It said GO TEAM DEAN! With a heart to dot the exclamation point. The sign was a surprise. When you’d shown him before leaving for the game he’d called you a dork and smiled so wide you worried his face might break.

You were ready for the game because you were safe. The worst thing that you expect is the comments when you turn up with a ‘1’ on your shirt this year instead of a ‘2’. You’ve already dealt with this from Mary and John but you weren’t so blind to forget about the rest of the family.

Charlie laughs at you when she notices, straight away, and threateningly asks for the story later. Bobby simply says, “switched teams, huh?” Before walking off. Granted he doesn’t seem to judge you, merely stating the observation like an interesting factoid. And Gabe starts, “lookie here when do I-” but smartly stops. He’s too tongue in cheek to be offensive but the look on Deans’ face might have something to do with his change of heart.

All of that you could handle. Par for the course. You had been ready for it because—can’t stress this enough—you were safe. Today was going to be a fun day of cheering on your boyfriend at his weird family baseball game.

You’re so sure of yourself that you even helped Mary pack drinks and snacks, with Eileen as a buffer, because you knew you’d get to enjoy said food. As a spectator.

When John does his ‘gather round me for I am John Winchester’ bit to pick the teams you’re choosing your spot in the stands. A little area in the front row for you, Mary and Eileen where you’re putting the food. You don’t join said gathering because that’s how not relevant it was to your life. You’d find out the teams when they’re playing and you’re only fifteen feet away from them all. You can hear them barking out names fine.

Dean picks Micheal. Sam makes a comment like ‘big surprise’. Bickering ensues until John gets them to focus up.

You could write this stuff in your sleep. You don’t want to call them predictable, considering this was only your second year here, but sometimes the truth is right there in front of you. And the truth is Winchester family baseball is going exactly how you expect.

Actually it’s the one thing that is going how you expect this weekend. Frankly, you needed that, some stability. Something you could rely on.

“Y/N”

Time slows down. In your head, you can hear that siren noise from Kill Bill and the world is suddenly devoid of color, except one. A red light flashes over your vision, as you turn in comically slow motion to find out which one of those idiots betrayed you.

Dean. Of course. The goddamn one you’re in love with.

He has the absolute gall to wave at you from where he’s standing. Smiling like, well, like it’s Fourth of July weekend and he innocently picked his girlfriend to play a game with him. That’s what it must look like to his family anyway.

To you? You feel like Lady Macbeth. Disappointed and betrayed by your significant other who can't do his one job. You’re not even asking him to kill the King of Scotland, all he had to do was not say your name.

Before you have an opportunity to write yourself out of this tragedy, he’s waving you over and your legs start walking. Apparently your body listens to him more than it listens to your own brain. Was nothing sacred anymore?

“There’s my girl.”

Those words would normally make you weak at the knees. Unfortunately for Dean, when it comes to baseball, you’re not melting that easy.

When you reach him you smile until you’re close enough to mutter dangerously, “I’m going to make you disappear and it'll look like an accident.”

You notice people dispersing which means your amazing boyfriend waited to call you till last. Not only did he screw you over but he made you the embarrassing last pick.

He leans in to kiss you and breathes against you, “you know you love playing with me.”

God, you do. You love playing with this dick, who apparently hates you, as well as his dick. Not baseball granted but other games.

“‘Sides,” he continues in your silence, “you don’t want to let all that practice go to waste.”

“All that practice? Practice?” You pull your head back, unable to resist showing him how offended you are, “you mean the time you forced me to go to the batting cages?”

He crosses his hands at your back and pulls you to him until your thighs are pressed against his. Were it not for his jeans then it would be incredibly inappropriate for a family baseball game. Actually, with the jeans, it might still be inappropriate.

“I seem to remember someone enjoying my arms wrapped around her while I taught her how to hit. I also seem to remember that someone forgot all about me in a damn second once she could do it on her own.”

“It was very stress relieving, I kept pretending the ball was the dummy who took me to the batting cages.”

A laugh rumbles through him, his body is so close to yours that you feel it in your stomach.

“Come on, this will be fun. You need more fun.”

You poke a finger into his chest, an inch above the collar of his jersey, “don't pretend you're doing me a favor. if I remember the rules, I don’t have a choice. But don’t you worry, I won’t forget this.”

He grins in that ‘brighter than the sun’ Dean way, “I know baby. I know.”

You’d made it home four times, an impressive three more than last year. None of them were from hitting a home run or anything preposterous. You do hit the ball almost every time though. You still couldn’t catch, throw or run--all three skills are apparently super essential in baseball. You can connect the bat with the ball though. Everyone seems pretty impressed every time it happens, if only they knew how impressed you were every time you manage it.

Your lack of skills aside, when Dean wins, he leans you over his arm and kisses you rightly. As if it’s V-J day and he single-handedly stopped WWII. Eileen sneaks up on Sam, from where she’d been watching in the stands. Although your ASL is not perfect, you’re at least 80% sure that her hand's sign “sucks to be you,” as she walks to him. You might love her a little more than you did ten minutes ago and Sam laughs a little harder too.

Dean chooses a steakhouse. The place is all wood paneling and soft lighting. The ambiance reminds you of your first real date in Chicago, although there will probably be less sticky fingers. From the ribs, obviously.

Mary and John drive ahead and they’re waiting outside when you all arrive. You’ve told Eileen to be prepared, told her to have her wits about her, promised her you’ll jump in if necessary. She’d told you not to worry.

Oh, you hate to see it happen.

As soon as you’re inside you volunteer to sit next to John, it’s the smallest kindness you can do for your friend. She should sit between the safety of Sam and Dean for what is to come.

It starts as you expect and it’s strange being on the other side of the interrogation. Nobody gives a flying crap about what drink or food you order but Eileen? She gets the same treatment you had last year. Silence and an entire table waiting to hear what she has to say. She’s the shiny, new thing everyone is interested in. You’re both glad and sorry. Glad the heat is taken off of you and sorry that it’s Eileen bearing the brunt of it.

Although—and it’s not your imagination—they are a hell of a lot easier on her than John had been on you. It presumably helps that Eileen is a Librarian. Her stories are all child reading groups and teaching elderly people how to use email in the computer room. Even you find yourself a bit smitten and you already knew her.

You’re trying not to focus on her too much though. Let her charm Mary and John, she doesn’t need another face watching her while she talks. Instead, you concentrate on your appetizer, one of those deep-fried onion things you’re sharing with Dean. The unspoken agreement is if you eat smelly food then you do it together.

He shakes his head, making eye contact with you as he takes a particularly over the top bite, when you’re pulled back into the main conversation.

“Y/N, where did you spend Christmas last year?”

“I’m sorry?” You ask somewhat dazed by being called on so soon.

Mary smiles kindly, “Eileen mentioned her parent's cabin, which I know is where they spent Christmas. I realized I had no idea where you spent the holidays?”

“Sure. I-erm, I stayed in Chicago.” Dean's hand under the table surprises you when you feel the weight of him on your knee.

“Oh, funnily enough, I remember Dean saying he was in Chicago too and I thought to myself how strange that was with Sam being gone.”

Everyone laughs at her joke, even your boyfriend while he moves his hand up your thigh.

“Didn’t want to head to New York and see your parents?” She continues her line of inquiry.

You have no idea where she’s going with it, why you’re the one in the hot seat, or why Dean is driving you crazy with his thumb rubbing those incessant circles in your skin. You answer anyway.

“N-No. They go to Europe every other Christmas so they’ll be home this year.”

Mary takes a bite of whatever-the-hell is on her plate. “The boys are coming to us this year too, I guess we’ll have to get better about syncing these things up, huh?”

His hand alone wouldn’t normally drive you as crazy as it is right now. He’s only tapping a slow, teasing rhythm into your thigh for crying out loud. But it’s been a few days and before that a few weeks, and you’d been resolved to not sully this wholesome family weekend. So, your breath is just a touch shorter than normal when he squeezes, and you can only hide it by talking.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess we will.” You agree easily.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your parents, yours too Eileen. Do you think we’ll be meeting yours before Christmas Y/N? Any other big events coming up?”

Were you not focusing on the heat of his hand under your skirt then you might be suspicious of the way she asks that. As it is Dean chooses then to wink at you because he thinks it's hilarious how preoccupied you are.

“Erm, Thanksgiving?”

“Right, right. Thanksgiving.” She smirks like she has a secret.

You stand up suddenly, needing to get away from your teasing boyfriend, “sorry. I’m going to go use the restroom.”

“Hurry back.” Dean’s mocking tone follows you.

Were his parents not at the table you'd tell him to go to hell.

Saturday morning comes faster than you expected. You did have a jump on the long weekend because you’d all taken a day off work this year but Saturday still seemed to have jumped from a cupboard to surprise you.

You wake up as you often do when you share Dean’s bed. One of you, today it’s him, has the other one, you, in what can only be described as an inescapable hold. He’s got one arm wrapped around you, fingers hanging loose over your stomach where you’re laying on your side. His other arm is encroaching on your pillow to surround you and his head is curled in your neck. His breath is slow and hot over your skin. You never imagined that you’d enjoy waking up like this, so incredibly close to someone. And then you met Dean. Sometimes you wrap him up in your sleep, your fingers in his hair, and one leg thrown over his. Either way one always claims the other and you wouldn’t want anything different.

Except at this very second.

Dean is a light sleeper. A bit of a contradictory trait for someone who likes to sleep as much as he does—yours is not to question why—but you never want to willingly wake him if you can avoid it. You’re more than happy to let sleeping Dean’s lie. When you don’t need the bathroom that is.

Even though this isn’t your first time trying you still give it your best shot to slip out without disturbing him.

You think you’re getting there. You’ve managed to roll onto your back for an easier way out, his face is now smashed into his pillow instead of your back, you’ve slipped down the bed a little to get away from his hand on your pillow. It’s only that arm across you that you need to get free from. Today is the day that you’ll finally manage to pee without waking him up. The trick, you think, is not to touch him. You’ve been burned before by trying to lift his arm off of you when you only need to slip out from under it.

“Come on, five more minutes.” He mumbles, fingers come to life to hold you tighter and you swear you see his lip curl because you’ve failed to sneak away again.

“I need to pee.” Who says romance is dead?

He huffs, you’ve hit on what he deems an acceptable reason to let go of you. Barely.

Not that he eases up. You have to wiggle from his hold which makes you crack your first smile of the day. Despite your need to hurry you bend over him and press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I get some coffee while I’m up, see if I can get you to forgive me?”

“You can try.” He mutters in his half-sleep state.

The house is quiet when you leave the bathroom, ridiculously quiet for how full of people it will be later. The calm tricks you into feeling invincible, where nobody else exists save for you and the man you left in bed.

“Morning Y/N.” Mary is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and not doing much else.

“Oh my god!” You recoil with your whole body, arms bent into your chest like you’re trying to stave off a heart attack. You can be a little dramatic at times but the way she’s sitting in silence, illuminated only by the early morning light from the backyard, almost gives the illusion of her appearing out of thin air. “Sorry, Mary. I must be easy to scare first thing in the morning.”

A slow smile spreads over her face, “no I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I like a few minutes of peace before the boys are up is all.”

You grab two mugs, a pretty clear indication you plan to take coffee back to Dean, but before you can fill both she makes you an offer you can’t refuse. “You and I both know he is already back to sleep, he’ll keep for a few minutes. Sit with me.”

Dean's empty mug, your excuse to leave, gets left on the counter with most of your hopes and dreams. The only thing you try to cling to is that Mary wants to carry on sitting in silence, only, together.

“Y/N, we haven’t had a chance to talk, just you and me. Not since last year.”

Or maybe, just maybe, she’d been waiting for you all along.

“I guess we haven’t. I-eh, I really did mean what I said when I got here Mary. I’m sorry about everything.”

“I’m not trying to rake you over the coals here, and I’m not looking for another apology. I know what my sons think of me, Sam thinks I’m crazy. You were being a good friend.” She shrugs like it's that simple.

It’s kind of ridiculous how quickly you relax, and how quickly you start spilling your guts, “The lying though. I don’t feel good about that.”

Mary is quick. She leans over the table and wraps her hand around yours, “I don’t remember that much lying. I could tell you loved Sam last year and if that’s like a brother, I’m still glad he has you.”

She’s right. You do love Sam like a brother, the one you never had. He’s been more your family than your own. The first family you’d chose and only real family you had, which is why you’d been so scared at first. It’s why you’d been so quick to run from Dean at the risk of losing Sam. Hell, sometimes you wonder if it’s one of the many reasons you love Dean—because he’s the only other person on the planet who loves Sam as much as you do.

Your fingers twitch under her hand, unsure of the loving way she holds you. Unsure if you deserve it or why she offers it so easily. Whatever the answer is, she has your guard down.

“What about Dean?” It’s a loaded question. You need someone else to see what’s there before you can admit it to him. You're looking for confidence because you are unsure of his feelings. Who better to judge than his own mother?

She squeezes enough to tell you that you’re looking down at your coffee instead of looking at her, before she pulls back to lift her mug to her lips again. “That’s obvious Y/N.” She almost sounds bored at such an easy question, ”I knew I was right all along.”

"Right about what?”

Not even a pause. If she was indeed waiting for you this morning then she was waiting for you to ask this question.

“That you are going to be a Winchester someday.”

“No-I, no…” You trail off to nothing and it’s not because of the way Mary is still grinning despite your protests. It’s not her raised eyebrows over the rim of her cup. It’s not even the little hum like noise she lets out in affirmation that yes, you would wear the big 'W' as your last name.

It’s that you can see it. You’ve had a year of long-distance with Dean; scheduled weekends and facetime dates. You’ve been itching to tell him how you feel but terrified of scaring him away, scared of moving too quickly with the guy you don’t see enough, scared he doesn’t feel the same. And yet in the back of your mind, the vision is forming, pushing its way to the front without permission. Dean on one knee. You in a white dress. The moment you both say ‘I do’.

Is this what becoming a hopeless romantic feels like? Or were you always this much of a total sap?

“Don’t worry, I know.” She reiterates again.

Mary has a reputation, she’s pushy enough, so you assume that’s what this is. You assume she’s making a premonition, not looking for confirmation of something she thinks she already knows. So, you look to escape what you think is the awkwardness that you can’t answer.

“I’m going to get Dean his coffee or-or we’ll never get him out of bed.”

She nods you to leave but disagrees with your evaluation, “I think you underestimate how much my son loves fireworks.”

You smile wide, remembering how his face lit up in the dark the year before, “You’re right. Still, I should go get him up.”

Then you pour more coffee, including Deans, and run. If anyone else caught wind of this conversation they would never believe you were a defense lawyer, let alone the lawyer who’s been plastered over the news defending a celebrity on a murder case.

Dean has, predictably, gone back to sleep since you left. Although the light sleeper that he is, he is roused by the door opening and the smell of coffee.

“Baby?”

That’s all it takes to make you forget the conversation with Mary ever happened. You can’t help but laugh at his sleepy voice as you slip in next to him, careful not to spill anything while he fidgets awake, “who else would wake you up like this?”

He rubs at his eyes, “oh, y’know, my other girlfriend.”

“You’ll have to introduce us one day, we can compare notes.”

You’re still not used to the Winchester’s if you’re being completely honest. To you, barbecue has always been a type of food, and not necessarily one your parents approved of. It was never a place, a home. That’s what today is. Saturday afternoon and the sun is high, there's a faint twang of country music coming from somewhere. Not loud enough to hear the lyrics but loud enough to identify the genre, loud enough to wish you were wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone has a beer or a burger, or both. And it’s not all dopey eyed niceties. There are teenagers, Claire and Alex, hating everyone from the other end of the yard. Occasionally there’s a “screw you” or a “you idjit” shouted from the many random conversations happening. But it’s still somehow perfect in the imperfections. It’s cozy and homely. It’s a family. Love.

It would be easy to feel overwhelmed and convince yourself that you don’t belong. It’s lucky that you have your boyfriend. And since he has disappeared on you, Sam and Eileen. Although she is doing a much better job than you at fitting in.

“She’s going to make me look bad,” you tell Sam while you both watch Eileen animatedly tell Uncle Bobby something that makes him howl. Even his stoic expressions are hidden behind his beard but Eileen is a stand-up comedian, apparently

“That’s not hard is it?” He teases.

“That might hurt if you hadn’t picked me to bring last year, to protect her from all this.” You use the neck of your bottle to draw a circle in the air around the whole motley crew of his family.

Before you register his movement he has an arm around your shoulders, you’re expecting a headlock so you’re pleasantly surprised when he pulls you into a side hug. “That’s the first time you’ve joked about it since… since last year. I’m glad. Everyone else is over it, you’re the only one hanging on Y/N/N.”

You don’t want to choke up in the middle of their backyard but sometimes Sam’s big brother moments hit you like that. “I never said I was very good at letting things go.”

He huffs. “You’re too tough sometimes. That’s why I picked you to help me.” He sucks in a slow breath, “you have to get out of your head... and maybe stop being so annoying.”

You shove him back so he can’t lean on you but now you’re out of his hold he’s looking down at you with those damn puppy dog eyes. He hasn’t asked for something which means he’s trying to use them to make you feel better. You hadn’t realized you’d needed to feel better, was your face sad enough to warrant a Sam pep talk

“I’m fine,” you wave away his concern. “Have you decided yet?”

“And there I was hoping you’d forget.”

“Is Eileen happy to let you forget?” You counter him with an expectant look. “She wants to tell them but she’s happy to let me make the decision since it’s my family.” He says in a pointed, not pointed way.

You shake your head, “she’s going too easy on you. Good thing you have me to put you in line.”

“I thought I was the line?” It takes you a beat, you’re actually surprised he remembered you saying that to John.

“No, that was what I had to say when I was being paid to make you look good.” His face turns somber, “I never paid you.”

“Tomayto, tomahto Sammy.” You finish the beer in your hand, “you know I’m not pushing you, right? If you don’t do it, there’s always Christmas, or send a save the date.”

He shoves at you this time and the air returns to its normal lightness. “I know. You only want me to put on my big boy pants.”

“I could care less about your pants. I want you to take the heat off me, obviously.” You hold up your bottle to him, “I’m out. You need another one?”

He chuckles, ducks his head, and looks at his fiance again. “Yeah, dutch courage might help.”

“Dare to dream.” You sympathize, patting him on his shoulder.

Sam might tell them today, he might not. You wouldn’t judge him either way. He knows you aren’t judging him. You’re nudging him, not so gently. You’re being for him what he is for you. A good friend. Sam has a tendency to drag his heels sometimes and his relationship with Eileen is one of the few things you’ve seen him jump into wholeheartedly. He is, after all, engaged in under a year. You’re beyond pleased because you’ve never seen him so happy, all you want is for Sam’s family to enjoy seeing that too. If you elbow him in the right direction it’s only because you know he’ll regret it down the road.

Besides, it’s not like Mary can scare Eileen away. She already said yes.

So, Dutch courage it is. You don’t condone drinking to excess in front of his parents but a few more beers wouldn’t hurt. They’d only loosen his lips.

The cooler is by the door to the kitchen, for easy refills whether that’s ice or beer. It’s out of the way. Most people stay close to the grill or their seat if they have managed to command one.

You assume your trip will be short and sweet. There’s no one else standing by the plastic box, which means no awkward cooler small talk to get trapped in. It’s half-empty but there are enough bottles that you won’t have to top it up even taking one for you and Sam. Then you stand up with a bottle in each hand, about to turn tail when at the edge of your peripheral you register Dean and Mary in the kitchen.

The window to the kitchen is wide and open and you should walk away. You almost walk away. Then Mary speaks and you can hear them so clearly that you have no choice. You duck down and sit precariously on top of the cooler.

“I know I’m not supposed to rush you but Dean, honey, I can’t stand it any longer. When are you going to announce it? I’m dying!”

Your interest is piqued. Unfortunately. It’s wrong, completely and utterly. Dean should be allowed his secrets whatever they are. Still, it’s not your fault that he chose to have this conversation, with his mother, in the kitchen. Where anyone could walk in or overhear them.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Although to be fair Dean doesn’t sound like a willing participant in this conversation, so maybe he doesn’t have a secret you have to worry about.

You don’t dare get up and peak through the glass since they sound quite close, but you hear Mary sigh.

“I heard her talking to Sam about it. How she wants to tell everyone and-and if it was up to her she’d have told us all already.”

The sound of the fridge opening and closing before he answers. “Still not following, Mom?”

“The proposal Dean. You asked her to marry you. She all but admitted it to me this morning and I’m so, so happy for you. I did think you’d talk to me first but… When am I getting my big announcement so we can celebrate?”

You suck in a breath and hope that it didn’t make a sound. If you can hear them it stands to reason they might hear you. Neither of them seems to. Or they’re distracted. Dean is silent for a too long beat, Mary is clearly confused, and she’s thrown you under the bus along with her, for good measure.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t know what you think you heard…”

A pit forms in the bottom of your stomach at his tone, how against the idea he sounds. It’s fine, you try convincing yourself, he’s defending Sam’s secret.

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know you and your brother think I’m nuts but I want you both to be happy. That's all.”

There’s a part of you that knows you should stop this. Come to Dean's rescue and clarify. You could fix this in thirty seconds or less. That’s what you would do if you weren’t stuck like your feet are made of cement.

“You've gotta cool it with that, ok? Y/N is just a girl I’m dating, that’s it, and I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. You breathing down her neck won’t help anything.”

You have to remind yourself that you’d wanted to know his secret. But maybe you’d only wanted to know because you hoped, assumed, that he felt the same as you.

You’d never actually expected a proposal. Not for years. You’d have been happy with not getting one ever as long as you got Dean. He was your prize, not some ring. But his tone says you don’t have him in any way that you want, you’re just a girl he’s dating. Just a date. He didn’t even say girlfriend. He didn’t even say he likes you.

“Oh, well. I’m sorry. I must have had my wires crossed. I’ll leave it alone.” Mary sounds deflated and disappointed. About a tenth of the hurt you’re spiraling into.

She also sounds like her footsteps are getting closer.

You need to move this time. Because the only thing worse than hearing this conversation is one of them knowing you’d heard this conversation.

The beers get left on the decking next to the cooler you’re still balancing your weight on. You stay low, curled over, as you take long steps along the side of the house. Your immediate plan is to get out of the way while Mary re-enters the backyard but it’s a mere thirty seconds before Dean comes striding out after her. He looks around, maybe for you, maybe for anyone else, it doesn’t really seem like it matters.

You’ve been worrying if Dean loves you, if you would scare him off by telling him you do. You’d never considered that he’s not anywhere close to that. He might never be.

Your mistake had been to immediately take solace in his room. It’s so his. It smells like him, every single thing reminds you of him. It’s the inanimate object version of going to cry in his arms.

It only made everything so much worse.

Though Dean’s room doesn’t contain a small library like Sam’s, there’s still a desk and a padded desk chair. The desk is covered in random things; a picture of him and Sam while Sam graduates Stanford, some sunglasses and amongst other things a small model car. A model of the impala that you’d toyed with while you were sneaking in some emails last night. He’d told you his dad gave it to him as a kid because his obsession with the car had begun early. However currently the chair is not where it is supposed to be. It’s wedged under his door handle because neither brother has a lock on their door.

You’ve spread out since you’ve been here. Your laptop is in the only free spot on his desk, your case is open on the floor where you’ve been living from it for two days now. Not to mention your things everywhere, a mascara here, or a lipstick there. At home, you only manage to stay any semblance of tidy because everything has its place but this is Dean’s space. It’s not even his, it’s his teenage space, somewhere he outgrew but visits every once in a while. Not even he completely fits in here anymore.

The point is you clearly don’t belong. Not even an inch. Dean liked you but that was it. As painful as it is to admit that’s not enough anymore. You’ve outgrown dates and sex, well, you’ve outgrown only having those things. For the first time in your life, you want the next step and Dean doesn’t. That’s the risk you take when you care about someone, getting hurt is always a possibility.

The only problem is you promised yourself no more pretending. Last year was enough for a lifetime. So, you can’t skip back downstairs and pretend you hadn’t heard what you did. You can’t sit next to him and watch fireworks and not be heartbroken.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” There’s a knock at the door that spooks the makeup you’d been collecting out of your hands. You don’t answer him instead, you scramble for the things you’ve dropped and scoop them up faster.

He twists the doorknob and you carry on your task because the chair will protect you.

Then the door starts moving. You expect to hear resistance after a second but the room is filled with the squeak of plastic wheels.

You’d forgotten that the damn chair is on wheels.

The makeup is dropped again, spilling out over the floor once more as you fall to your ass and slide across the carpet. You’d never managed anything close to a slide in baseball, never ever needed to learn one. Now you perfect it in all of two feet. Your feet plant either side of the chair and your hands wrap around the seat pushing it back until the door closes again. This was a mistake, the chair is only making it harder to push back, you should have moved it and shoved yourself against the door, it’s just too late for a redo.

“Hey, hey. Open the door.” It’s hard to tell if he’s angry, he mostly sounds urgent.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, still, it’s impossible to find the words to answer him. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret, or can’t take back, even if you’re hurt. In your silence, he keeps pushing, literally and figuratively.

He twists the handle again but this time there’s a little weight on his side. The weight pushes against the chair and by extension you. It’s not his full weight, he’s bigger than you though so even his half weight is starting to force you backward. You scramble to gain some traction, planting your feet better, shoving some more. The carpet gives you some friction but not enough to help against the force of Dean Winchester. You keep moving.

After a minute things are about a hundred miles south of ridiculous. You love ridiculous, when you’re not trying to run away that is.

Dean is one foot in the room, thick fingers wrapped around the door and his head pushed in looking at you. There’s a confused knot in his forehead while he takes in exactly what he’s forced his way to look at.

You straddling the bottom part of his desk chair, shoved against the door, and looking up at him wildly.

“Really, sweetheart?” He asks with a mix of frustration in his eyes and a curl on his lips, “what the hell?”

That’s enough to snap you out of it and jump up from the floor. Your hands smooth over the wrinkles in your jeans as if nothing happened. “Hi, Dean. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

You may be hurting, sure, but if your parents taught you anything it’s how to cover any emotion with pragmatic denial.

He steps all the way into the room now without you in the way. “Someone else? Comin’ into my room, looking for you?”

“Could have been anyone,” you shrug. Careful to keep your voice steady and neutral while you go back to collecting your twice dropped makeup from the floor. “Wouldn’t want any of your cousins to wander in here.”

“Right. Because they’re leaving the yard while there’s food on the grill, come on it’s like-”

“I heard what you said to your Mom.” The last thing you wanted to say makes it to the tip of your tongue anyway, as you dispense the collected make up into your case like a dump truck.

He parts those lips of his, which means he’s worried about something and then he smiles. He smiles at you while you’re doing everything not to cry.

There’s a quiver in your voice despite yourself, “it’s fine I get it. I wish you’d told me yourself but I can’t do anything about that. And I know I shouldn’t have been listening in and I’m sorry. Can you give me a few minutes to get sorted please?”

Dean cocks his head, takes a step closer to you, and then stops when you grimace, “what?”

“You said you-that we-I’m not expecting anything but I thought I was more than ‘just another girl’ you’re dating.” You shake your head, trying to stop those tears now you’ve said it out loud. Feeling your vision blur and wobble anyway. “Like I said it’s fine. I’m getting out of here though. I found a flight home, there’s no point in you driving me home eleven hours when it’s four to St Louis.”

Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t stand to sit in the car with him that long while you’re feeling like this.

“Woah, Woah, Woah baby.” He doesn’t pause this time. He doesn’t care about your frown as he approaches you, he’s more concerned about fixing whatever you have gotten in your head. He’s on you in an instant. One warm hand on your shoulders and one at your chin, lifting your face to his and taking in all your sadness. You hate that he’s making you stare into his eyes like this. Those green, soulful eyes had been one of the first things you noticed on his beautiful dumb face and now this feels like a goodbye. Of course, it's not a goodbye. He’s trying to tell you just by looking at you that you’re a goddamn idiot. “Have you met my mom? Remember when she asked if you were pregnant when you’d been dating Sam like a month?”

“Fake dating. Why does everyone forget I was fake dating him?”

He chuckles, “‘course. Faking. Well, you heard her, right? She thinks we’re the ones getting hitched. Imagine if I’d thrown fuel on the fire and told her that you’re my girl, I love you and that you’re it for me.”

There’s a big, huge lump in your throat stopping you breathing. Too gigantic to swallow down. Tears still want to rain over your face, again, but you refuse to be the girl that cries because her boyfriend, who she loves, finally told her what she’s been waiting to hear.

Wait, you need to say something back.

“I love you too.”

His smile is slow and lazy but it’s perfectly timed with how gently his body leans in to kiss you. His shoulders drop while you’re sighing into his mouth like every romantic comedy heroine. His hands still on your shoulders relax their hold a little and you realize, he might have been doubting how you felt too.

“That’s good to know.” He breathes. “But see if I’d have told my mom all that, with the whole family here, she’d have us shotgun married before I got the chance to actually ask you.”

Your eyes widen, “no. You’re not?”

“Nah, planning on knocking those socks off when I do. Fair warning though, that’s coming.”

A strangled laugh comes out of you because you are, and have always been, the stupidest person alive. Dean loves you. He loves you and you love him. And why have you waited so long to say it?

“Move in with me?” It seems like the next best thing to every sweet thing he just said. It’s not enough but for once you’re happy to be second best in a conversation. You’ve been thinking about it long enough, hating the distance and the weekends you’ve spent apart. It’s so obvious that you should have worked it out months ago.

“What?” He gives you the pleasure of seeing his goofy confused face while your finger traces the curve of his bottom lip. In case you ever forget.

“Move in with me. Move to Chicago to be with me. Benny can manage in St. Louis and you can open a second location... or be chief of police or a fireman or just eat deep dish all the day long, whatever you want. Be with me in Chicago? Everyday? Sam’s there too. How can you be his best man from three hundred miles away?”

Another kiss and a bigger grin that comes from his chest, not even you expected it to be this easy. Which is more of that stupidity because with Dean it’s always easy. You can only imagine how rosy your cheeks are as he answers, “you had me at pizza.”

You get to the foot of the stairs when Sam pops out of the living room. You’ve schooled your beaming grin into something more subdued because you don’t want to draw focus but Sam’s probably still just waiting for his beer. He tilts his head down and asks, “you good?”

Before you can tell him that you have never been better, Dean saunters down the steps behind you without any concern for drawing attention. “Sammy, how many times have I told you, you can’t have her back. She’s mine now.”

Sam purses his lips at his brother, which is still funny to you, and you press a hand to his chest to distract him from their brother games. “We’re all good Sam, I’ll fill you in later. The important thing is are you ready to go? Weekend is nearly over.”

He smiles at you, “couldn’t do it without my legal eagle.”

Finally, he gets it. “Legal eagles for life, Sam.”

“You two are a pair of dorks.” Dean slumps an arm over both of your shoulders, “I can’t believe I love a dork even dorkier than my dork brother.”

If Sam notices any difference or the massive L-word Dean dropped, he keeps his reaction in check. Besides he’s engrossed in something else, he kind of has something huge to announce to his whole family right now. Something you’ve been dying to witness since he told you.

You turn in Dean’s arm to threaten him, “he can still drop you and make me best man, you know that, right?”

Dean feigns anger, “he would never.”

“Keep talking pretty boy and see how fast I’m planning the bachelor party.”

“She thinks I’m pretty.” Dean turns his head to smile at Sam and involve him in your sparring match, you know since best man is his decision, but Sam is now bitch facing the pair of you.

He doesn’t say anything, just swings an arm out towards the kitchen and beyond that the backyard. An annoyed invitation to join him and his fiance for the big moment you’ve all been waiting for.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on De. Let’s go let Sammy-boo and Leney-bear be as disgusting as we are.”

You’re already in the kitchen when Sam shouts after you, “I told you not to call us that!”

“Eileen said she didn’t mind!”

Weirdly, the party in the backyard is exactly how you left it and yet you feel like everything changed, for the better, in the last twenty minutes.

Eileen sees all three of you step out of the house and senses that its time. Or Sam had already told her it was before he went looking for you. Either way, she walks over to Sam who magically ends up in the middle of the yard.

You can feel the excitement buzzing from Dean where he’s standing next to you, you bet he’s feeling that from you too.

“Hey everyone, I kind of have an announcement,” Sam calls out.

Most of them look around but nobody moves and he hasn’t captured everyone's attention in the way John does at the baseball game. For some reason that line from Highlander pops into your head, there can only be one. It’s a concerted effort not to snort at your own joke.

John is, however, one of the people that heard Sam so he hollers, “cut it out, Sammy’s got something to say.”

That’ll do it. The music shuts off and everyone gathers in a circle around Sam and Eileen. You notice then that Eileen’s ring has appeared back on her finger. You know she had it on a necklace until this announcement but the sleight of hand to make it happen is impressive.

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep this short and sweet because I know you’re all waiting on more food but while we had everyone here we thought we should tell you all.”

Somehow, you hear Mary’s heart stop from twenty feet away.

“As most of you know Eileen and I met just over a year ago,” a few people who haven't been briefed share looks since he’d been ‘dating’ you last year. “And well, I’ve never been happier or more in love with someone in my life. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and a few weeks ago I got my act together and asked her to marry me.”

Eileen holds up her hand then, beaming, ‘and I said yes!”

They had to have rehearsed that on the flight.

Chaos ensues. Everyone claps and cheers and people try to move in to congratulate them. Above all of that Mary screams like she’s being murdered. She rushes forward letting every thought in her head fall out of her mouth, “But I thought Dean and Y/N… so you’re telling me it was you all along? Oh Sammy, sweetie, I am so, so happy for you. Oh god, I’m so proud of you.” She wraps her arms around him and crushes him. “And I’m so happy you’re going to be part of the family!” She lets go of her son to give Eileen the same bruising hug.

“Well done, son.” John claps Sam on the back with, you think, the faintest hint of proud tears in his eyes.

Dean wraps his arm around you then like he'd been unable to do it until everything with Sam was ok. You lean into his chest and whisper only loud enough for him, "he's going to be so excited about you being in the city with us."

"You think?"

"I know it. Granted not as excited as me."

He rests his chin on the top of your head, slotting you into him like a puzzle piece.

In the background, it goes on and on until everyone has said something to the happy couple. Even Bobby gets this choked noise caught in his throat. The whole display is actually very touching.

When they finish the mayhem John proposes a toast in which everyone raises their drinks. Then the drinking and eating continue, with much more vigor than before. The whole thing goes from a Fourth of July celebration to a party. The music is a little more upbeat, the hard liquor is brought out early and the hum of everyone feels excited.

Sam—who has been hugged, pinched and shoved playfully enough to last him till the end of days—wanders over to you and Dean with his fiance in tow. “Are you happy now?” He directs the question at you specifically.

You reach up to grab his face with both hands and jiggle his head while you baby-talk to him, “my little Sammy, I’m so proud of you.”

Dean and Eileen both laugh and it's one of those perfect moments you only expect to see in the movies. You realize then that with these three people around you could actually look forward to the Fourth of July with the Winchesters for years to come.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

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theorajones · 4 years

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OR IS HE?

I present to you, the Michael Knight Manwhore Index!

This was shamelessly ripped off from inspired by Sara_merry’s Michael Knight Sex Project on LJ, which tragically appears to have been abandoned after the first 14 episodes. But having a) a ton of spare time on my hands due to the ongoing Coronapocalypse, b) a steadfast dedication to sitting around in my pajamas watching Knight Rider instead of cleaning the gutters or replacing my car’s valve cover gaskets and c) a burning need to know how accurate my estimate of Michael’s conquests was in my last trashy fanfic, I persevered.

Methodology: I assigned each prominent female guest character (and the occasional male and/or regular character) a probability of having gotten it on with Michael, based on my subjective interpretation of how much they flirted/made out/made plans for a romantic getaway/actually went on a romantic getaway. Episodes in which at least one character had a 50% or greater probability (including with characters who were talked about but not seen onscreen) were assigned a value of 1. Episodes with a 49% or lower probability were assigned a value of 0. Values were totaled to calculate each season’s MKMI number.

TL;DR results:

(# denotes probable sexytimes with someone who wasn’t seen onscreen, * denotes Michael’s participation was most likely non-consensual)

Season 1 MKMI number: 13

04 - Good Day at White Rock 05 - Slammin’ Sammy’s Stunt Show Spectacular 06 - Just My Bill # 07 - Not a Drop to Drink 08 - No Big Thing # 09 - Trust Doesn’t Rust # 10 - Inside Out 11 - The Final Verdict 13 - Forget Me Not 15 - Give Me Liberty... or Give Me Death 16 - The Topaz Connection 17 - A Nice, Indecent Little Town 20 - Knight Moves

Season 2 MKMI number: 6

06 - Return to Cadiz 07 - KITT the Cat 08 - Custom KITT 14 - Diamonds Aren’t a Girl’s Best Friend 18/19 - Goliath Returns * 23 - Let It Be Me

Season 3 MKMI number: 7

09 - Dead of Knight 12 - Custom Made Killer # 13 - Knight by A Nose 14 - Junk Yard Dog 15 - Buy Out 17 - The Nineteenth Hole 22 - Circus Knights

Season 4 MKMI number: 5

03 - KITTnap 08 - Many Happy Returns 12 - The Scent of Roses 16 - Redemption of a Champion 22 - Voo Doo Knight

Conclusion: Michael is not nearly as much of a manwhore as people think, at least based on what we see onscreen. Although he clearly does have a social life outside of what we’re shown in every episode, so there’s still a world of possibilities...

Detailed episode analysis below the cut:

s1e01/02 - Knight of the Phoenix

Lonnie - Don't seem to know each other very well, no signs of other than professional interest. Probability: 0%

Tanya - Some kind of working relationship as Michael Long, but she doesn't seem to recognize his voice as MK. Plus he was possibly still engaged to Stevie as ML.

T: "I can promise you a very rewarding... *partnership*." M: "Not this time."

Probability: 5% (as ML) 0% (as MK)

Maggie - She expresses regret at not going for him at the end, but also seems more interested in finding a father figure for her son. It's implied that Michael left town before anything could happen. He did say he'd come back and visit. Did he ever? Would Maggie be up for a fling even though she knows he can't settle down? Potentially but not necessarily.

Probability - 30%

s1e03 - Deadly Maneuvers

Robin - They keep things mostly professional during the investigation. Michael goes to his own hotel room. At the end, it looks like he and Devon are leaving together. Michael is wearing a different shirt in the last scene than in the one where he rescues Robin from the munitions range so it's unclear how much time has passed. Theoretically sexytimes could have transpired but there aren't really any strong suggestions that they have.

Probability: 10%

s1e04 - Good Day at White Rock

Sherry - "Keep driving." "For how long?" "Until one of us runs out of gas."

Probability: 95%

s1e05 - Slammin' Sammy's Stunt Show Spectacular

Lisa - She's definitely interested. And he's sticking around for another 3 weeks, so definitely some opportunity. He doesn't seem as flirtatious with her as he was with Sherry but it's definitely a possibility.

Probability: 70%

s1e06 - Just My Bill

Sabrina (offscreen) - Devon breaks Michael's date with her. Not enough info to draw any conclusions about whether it's a first and/or last date. A definite possibility.

Probability: 50%

Senator Maggie - That would have been subversive af, but alas, no.

Probability: 0%

Jane - Doesn't seem that into him at their first meeting. At their breakfast date he asks her how she slept, which presumably he'd know if he'd been there. She does go out to lunch with him and Devon at the end. Possible but not conclusive.

Probability: 25%

s1e07 - Not A Drop to Drink

Francesca - They have kind of a "channel the sexual tension into arguments" thing, but like Maggie in the pilot, she's probably looking more for somebody who can settle down. Another one where he talks at the end about coming back to visit but we don't know if he ever does. Maybe?

Probability: 50%

S1e08 - No Big Thing

The Unnamed 200-Mile Diversion Girl (offscreen) - I doubt he drove 200 miles out of his way just for coffee and friendly conversation.

Probability: 90%

Carol Reston - They have dinner together but seem to be keeping things strictly business. No apparent indication that they're romantically interested, no "Come back and visit sometime."

Probability: 0%

s1e09 - Trust Doesn't Rust

Rosalyn and/or Rosalie (offscreen) - "What's wrong with a little 'companionship'?"

Probability: 90%

Bonnie - They almost kiss after defeating KARR, but mutually think better of it. Presumably the moment passes and stays passed for another few seasons of UST.

Probability: 0%

s1e10 - Inside Out

(This ep has a higher than average amount of sexual innuendo, including KITT's breathless response to Bonnie adjusting his components, Michael commenting that Bonnie knows how to turn KITT on, KITT straight-facedly giving Michael an accounting of Bonnie's measurements after Michael wonders whether there's a real woman under her jumpsuit, and Michael & KITT's "Maybe I can get something from the girl"/ "I wouldn't touch that line with a 10 foot driveshaft" conversation. "Don't worry, I'll distract her."/"I'll bet." "What was that all about?"/"Biology.")

Linda - WTF was up with him grabbing her in the woods like a skeezoid rapist when he just wanted to give her dinner? She doesn't kick him in the balls so I guess that counts for something. They hug after a conversation in her room later, hold hands and smooch before she goes off to do... something mission related. She saves his ass and helps him drop off the bad guys at the prison. Do they celebrate later? Maybe.

Probability: 70%

s1e11 - The Final Verdict

Cheryl - They're pretty touchy-feely when he visits her in jail, and she gives him a pretty good kiss at the end. Odds are good that they had/will have a romantic relationship at some point.

Probability: 90%

s1e12- A Plush Ride

M: I wanna search Margo's room. K: I've heard that one before. M: It'll give you something to brood about during the night.

Margo - (spoiler alert) She's a terrorist. They get physical when she catches him searching her room but it doesn't turn into anything more than fighting. He kisses her (in front of everybody, wtf) after she (supposedly) saves him from being murdered by Jacobs. But the next time we see the two of them together, she's taking him prisoner. She's pretty touchy-feely with him while he's tied up but there's no time for her to do anything (and presumably he wouldn't be into it if she did, what with her being a terrorist and all).

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - Uncharacteristically flirtatious, appears to be a bit tipsy. No real implication that anything happened, though.

Probability: 0%

s1e13 - Forget Me Not

Maria Elena - They're flirting up a storm in their first scene. And their third one. And fourth one. Also she's frequently scantily clad around him. Michael to KITT in the last scene: "See you in two days, buddy." Oh yeah, he was planning something.

Probability: 95%

Micki - She's a little flirtatious too before she loses her memory (although he starts it by fake-flirting with her). And also feels comfortable enough to just run around in Michael's shirt and little else after she loses her memory, although she says she doesn't just meet guys at parties and go home with them (she thinks). He tells her she's a nice lady but doesn't seem that romantically interested in her.

Probability: 10% Until...

Maria Elena & Micki - They've become fast friends by the last scene and both kiss him on the cheek at the same time after he brings them both flowers (at KITT's instigation). Why do I get the feeling "Anybody wanna cruise a hamburger joint?" was as close as they could get to implying a threesome on 80s family hour tv?

Probability: 60%

s1e14 - Hearts of Stone

M: KITT, don't fall in love with one of these beautiful cars and run off on me, huh?

K: I wouldn't dream of it.

Angie - She's with Roberto. Also (spoiler alert) a scam artist criminal.

Probability - 0%

The blonde lady at the bar - They flirt and she tells him she hopes to see him later, but no indication that she ever does.

Probability: 5%

Devon - Oh man, the way he's eyeing Michael up in his hotel room. And if we're still in the pilot universe, Michael is a dead ringer for a young Wilton, whom I will never be unconvinced Devon wasn't either secretly in love with or a relationship with, s2 Devon Miles Heterosexuality Minutes be damned. We never really get any indication that Michael swings that way, though (at least with non-automotive males, *wink*).

Probability: 0%

The nurse - In the novelization she flirts with him and kisses him, but no indication of romantic interest in the actual episode.

Probability: 0%

s1e15 - Give Me Liberty... Or Give Me Death

Bonnie - He tries to ask her out, but she's busy spending the night with KITT. :D She also doesn't seem very impressed with his Liberty drama.

Probability: 0%

Liberty Cox - When she shows up in his room, he seems a lot less interested in her than she is in him, but he doesn't exactly fight her off when she starts kissing him. He tells KITT he went to bed and she went back to her room, but she's sure more pissed about not getting to ride along with him the next day than you'd think she'd be if all they'd done was smooch. Also she's back at FLAG HQ at the end so maybe she's spending some time in town.

Probability: 90%

Dorothy Ackridge - He tries to be flirtatious but she has no time for his shenanigans. she's grateful when he saves her life but doesn't express any romantic interest in him.

Probability: 0%

s1e16 - The Topaz Connection

Lauren Royce - She takes half the episode to warm up to him but they have fun in Vegas. "You do the cake, I'll do the champagne, and we'll see what else comes to mind." "Deal." Things look like they might be headed in a steamy direction as evidenced by the romantic music playing but they get cockblocked by Bob. They smooch before she gets on the bogus plane. In the last scene they kiss some more and she tells him they have some unfinished business.

Probability: 95%

s1e17 - A Nice, Indecent Little Town

KITT: Michael is... indisposed. Devon: Oh. That means he's either with a young lady or in jail.

Jobina - He's definitely turning on the charm. She helps Michael escape from jail (with KITT's assistance). "Is there anything this car can't do?" "I think a woman would be a better judge of that." "I beg your pardon?" I don't even know what that's supposed to mean but I want to believe it's something saucy. Not actually much indication onscreen that anything happened but in the last scene Michael says he hopes Jobina will stay in town and Bonnie asks if that's so he'll know where to find her. Michael responds, "Yeah, that's a thought." Possibilities here.

Probability: 50%

s1e18 - Chariot of Gold

Dr. Charlene Litton - He chats her up at the party, but it's in the line of duty. She's kind of condescending to him. She does break away from the creepy IQ cult and help Michael foil their plans, but isn't seen again.

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - They do their usual UST thing, and dance at the party until Devon cuts in. He's extremely protective of her. He talks her out of her brainwashing by telling her "We're a team, we love each other." He makes her breakfast and brings her a rose at the end. Still, no overt indication that anything beyond camaraderie happens.

Probability: 0%

s1e19 - White Bird

Stevie - Presumably they've gotten it on in the past but there was too much going on in this episode for anything to happen. Also presumably Wilton didn't do any renovations below Michael's neck so if they'd gotten it on she would have known with 100% certainty who he was.

Probability: 95% (as ML) 5% (as MK)

s1e20 - Knight Moves

Terri - He asks her to go dancing. She turns him down but finds him likable/trustworthy enough to let him give her a lift home. They seem to be bonding but when he goes in for a kiss she says goodnight and goes in the house (alone). His little smile afterwards suggests he's up for the challenge. After he saves her life and her other driver threatens to quit she tells him she really likes him and hugs her but doesn't push it further than that. She tells him the next day that it was the first time she ever wanted to kiss a man (but that she had before anyway D: ). At the end they do go dancing (and she puts on a dress because heaven forbid a tough woman should ever fail to embrace conventional femininity immediately upon being found attractive by any halfway decent dude) and it's a reasonable assumption that they did more than just *dance* until dawn. I kind of want to roast Michael a little for not being more aghast about the fact that she's kissed dudes she didn't really want to and for encouraging her to give up her Tomboy Terri persona but it was a less enlightened era and at least he didn't hit on her when she was vulnerable which is more than a lot of dudes of his time (or this one, for that matter) would have done so I'll cut him some slack.

Probability: 90%

s1e21 - Nobody Does It Better

Connie - He's checking her out on the tennis court but (spoiler alert) she gets murdered.

Probability: 0%

Flannery Roe - Things are off to a rocky start. She seems to take his "do you like to play?" at the club as a come on, pulls a gun on him (not entirely unjustifiably) when he corners her in the cul-de-sac and has him arrested on suspicion of being a stalker and/or rapist. She warms up to him a bit after he provides a comforting hug when she finds Connie's body but still gets a little shirty with him at the restaurant and turns down his offer of a ride home. She's antagonistic toward him when they meet again at the club. He saves her from the bad guys and for some reason she's back at the Foundation HQ at the end but they don't do any huggy-kissy stuff so odds are minimal.

Probability: 1%

s1e22 - Short Notice

K: Since you haven't asked, I'll tell you. It was demoralizing, demeaning. M: What? K: Police impound. M: Oh. You had me worried there for a minute.

Nicole - She keeps him at arm's length initially (understandably since she's hitching). Turns out she's another single mom, so her main preoccupation is getting her kid back, and she doesn't really care if she dicks Michael over in the process. He does get along well with her kid when they find her so that probably gets him a few points in her eyes. They hold hands after he beats all the bad guys in the western town and hug at the end but don't kiss. She's probably looking for a new dad for Natalie. He tells Natalie he hopes they'll see him again but nothing conclusive.

Probability: 10%

s2e01/02 - Goliath

Rita Wilcox - Another one where there was possible interest but probably wasn't time for anything to happen. She spends half the episode either pissed off at him or faking a relationship with Garthe, and then they're busy trying to take out Goliath. They hug after Garthe and Goliath are out of commission but don't kiss. At the end she's on her way out of town. It's unclear how much time has passed between that and the last scene but when she implies he should look her up if he's in LA, he doesn't mention that the Foundation's home base is in SoCal (or so it appears)? I don't think he's the type who wouldn't go for a woman he was interested in just because she'd hooked up with his evil twin (even if he was a little judgy when he found out she was shacking up with Garthe again), so maybe he's just not that into her.

Probability: 25%

s2e03 - Brother's Keeper

Lisa - Things aren't exactly off to a great start when he kidnaps her. She warms up to him a little by the end and they give each other a fairly chaste goodbye smooch. He says they'll see each other again and she says she hopes so. Maybe?

Probability: 30%

April: He's on a kidnapping spree and drags her to the beach at the end. Still, no real indicator that anything romantic is going to ensue.

Probability: 5%

s2e04 - Merchants of Death

Camela - They seem to keep it professional except for a goodbye kiss. Not even a "We'll see each other again." Odds are minimal.

Probability: 5%

s2e05 - Blind Spot

Julie - She's in some kind of platonic lifemate relationship with John, which may end up being more than platonic thanks to Michael's yenta-ing.

Probability: 0%

s2e06 - Return to Cadiz

Jennifer Shell - They have dinner together and she seems to open up to him but it isn't overtly romantic. They have a spat but hug and make up when he finds the secret treasure cave. She kisses him after he rescues her from the bad guys. An undisclosed amount of time has passed before they have dinner and he heads out but they do the "Will I see you again?/count on it" thing before she kisses him goodbye. It's possible, maybe even likely.

Probability: 50%

s2e07 - KITT the Cat

Grace - She's definitely flirting with him when she invites him to the party. And then tries to convince him she's not the burglar by making out with him. At the end he kisses her goodbye pretty interestedly while promising to keep a closer eye on her. Odds are good.

Probability: 85%

s2e08 - Custom KITT

Suzanne Weston - She's pretty overt about her interest in him, but when she shows up in his room he seems relieved when KITT beeps him on the comlink. She tells him he knows where to find her if he's ever in the mood for something other than "good, clean" fun, so by implication he hasn't been.

Probability: 0%

Carrie - She's into him enough to get jealous when she thinks he hooked up with Suzanne. "If our plan works and the thief tries to steal KITT tonight, you can thank me." She kisses him first, but then he kisses her and tells her that's "very close" to his way of wanting to be thanked. The implications aren't particularly subtle. They enthusiastically hug after catching the bad guys. When she wins the car show, they smooch with more "I don't know how to thank you... but I'm sure I'll think of a way" innuendo. He tells her he'll see her later, and I think it's a strong possibility that he will.

Probability: 90%

s2e09 - Soul Survivor

M: Devon, I felt something in here... I don't know, a presence... KITT's presence.

K: Oh Michael, do I look just dreadful? Be honest. M: KITT, what matters to me is who you are, not what you look like. Sure we don't have the car. So we can't turbo boost. So we can't go over 200 miles an hour. It was all icing on the cake anyway. It wasn't you. K: It wasn't? M: No, the car was fantastic but if you break it down it was steel, rubber and glass. We can always make another one. But you, you are a lot more than silicon chips and fancy circuitry, You're my buddy. You're my partner. KITT, you're one of a kind. K: Thank you, Michael. The feeling's mutual.

K: What was it like, Michael? M: What, KITT? K: Seeing my body functioning without me? Or you? M: A little spooky, let me tell ya. K: Did it seem like me? M: Yeah, it did and it didn't. It looked like you, but somehow it just wasn't the same. K: I don't understand. M: It didn't have your soul, KITT. Without that, it could never be the same. K: Thank you, Michael.

Adrianne - She techno-roofies him and the way Randy sticks his head in the door and then guiltily ducks back out as she's leaning over him on the couch kind of suggests he's walking in on something he knows he shouldn't see. Still, Michael appears to be fully clothed when he wakes up in a ditch. Adrianne is totally a creepy douchebag and/or rapist (as we will see more of in Goliath Returns) but she was probably too preoccupied with stealing KITT to do anything in this ep.

Probability: 20%

s2e10 - Ring of Fire

(This is one of two eps where Michael utters the phrase "come on, baby" to KITT while trying to get out of a jam. Obviously NBC's censors had to ruin our fun because it never happens again after this season.)

Layla - She's still married. Doesn't really express romantic interest in Michael and the hero of an 80s family hour tv series probably wouldn't have gotten it on with a married woman no matter how much of an abusive dick her husband was. They do kiss goodbye at the end and he tells her if she ever decides to leave the bayou, she knows where he'll be. If anything ever happens, it's probably in the distant future.

Probability: 5%

s2e11 - Knightmares

M: Whoa, you are hot! K: Quite true, Michael.

Cara - She tries to look out for him after he gets amnesia, but not a lot of indication that she's romantically interested in him, and he's too busy trying to figure out wtf is going on to hit on her. They hug after he rescues her from drowning but we don't see any more of them together.

Probability: 5%

s2e12 - Silent Knight

Marta - No real indication of romantic interest on either side. We don't see what they're doing as Tino is saying goodbye to KITT but considering he offered her a handshake and not a kiss or even a hug, it's probably safe to say nothing happened.

Probability: 0%

s2e13 - A Knight in Shining Armor

Katherine - She's a little young for him (Michael tells her the treasure was supposed to be her 21st birthday present so presumably she's legal but the fact that she's still in prep school makes her seem younger). Also this is another episode where he begins their acquaintance by first rescuing, then kidnapping the female lead. They don't particularly like each other at first, but hug after his "if nobody can hurt you, then nobody can love you" chat with her, again after he rescues her from the bad guy (again) and after escaping the cave collapse. It seems more friendly than romantic, though.He takes her hand in the cave but it comes off more as sharing a moment than a romantic overture. They kiss at the end but he tells her goodbye and leaves. No indication that they're going to see each other again.

Probability: 5%

s2e14 - Diamonds Aren't A Girl's Best Friend

Lauren - She makes out with him when he first shows up as part of her cover story and he clearly doesn't mind. He's pretty committed to maintaining their cover in subsequent scenes. In the last scene she tells him she'd like "to do it for real" but she's pretty clearly referring to kissing, not *it*. By implication they haven't done more than kiss at this point but when she asks if she'll see him again, he tells her "unless you change her name and move to Okinawa." Future potential.

Probability: 50%

Lauren's boss - She's kind of flirtatious with him when they first meet but no indicator that anything happens.

Probability: 0%

s2e15 - White Line Warriors

Cindy - She's with Ron, who is apparently pretty understanding since he doesn't seem to object to her giving Michael a thank-you kiss at the end.

Probability: 0%

s2e16 - Race For Life

April - He's emotionally supportive and her niece has been introduced to Michael and KITT but no significant indications of anything romantic.

Probability: 0%

s2e17 - Speed Demons

Sabrina - He comes to her rescue when Wade is harassing her at the party, They hug after she talks to him about Kelly. They give each other a chaste goodbye kiss but no real indication of romantic interest.

Probability: 0%

s2318/19 - Goliath Returns

Adrianne - This one gets an asterisk, because whatever happened in Garthe's creepy dungeon after the cutaway to a scandalized KITT didn't look consensual on Michael's side. She pretty obviously went down to there to sleep with him, and the way she staggers out in her bathrobe the next morning while Garthe bitches about how she slept in pretty strongly implies that she actually did, but Michael really seems the opposite of into her and her basically telling him "please me [in bed] and maybe I'll make sure my psycho boyfriend doesn't murder you" is rape by coercion if not by force. Did he grit his teeth and do it just to hedge his bets? Maybe.

Probability: 80%*

s20 - A Good Knight's Work

Gina - He's obviously interested and kisses her before he goes to MMM, but (spoiler alert) she's playing him. Except maybe she's not so bad because she lets him talk her out of shooting him and then they hug. They kiss goodbye at the end but she's going into witness protection and there isn't really any indication that they'll see each other again or that anything romantic transpired.

Probability: 10%

s2e21/22 - Mouth of the Snake

Joanna - She was more interested in Dalton. I deeply want to believe Dalton's invitation to Michael to hang out with them at the end was really an invitation to join them for a threesome because it's the only thing that would make this episode interesting, but Michael takes a rain check and heads out of town.

Probability: 0%

s2e23 - Let It Be Me

Stevie - She's still pretty broken up about her boyfriend's death. He kisses her when they go back to her apartment and she tells him she still dreams about him. The next scene they're wearing different clothes and seemingly some time has passed so maybe something happened after the cutaway?

Probability: 50%

s2e24 - Big Iron

Lucy - She was the woman who was coming out of the hotel room at the beginning. He seemed to be checking her out in that scene but obviously he's not going for a married woman even if she didn't have some other drama going on.

Probability: 0%

s3e01/02 - Knight of the Drones

Bonnie - They hug when he shows up at the university and he makes the "You can sail with me anytime" comment to her at the marina at the end and they link arms to walk to the boat, but not really anything more romantic than that.

Probability: 0%

Margo - She fakes romantic interest in him and he plays along, but (spoiler alert) she's setting him up to be murdered.

Probability: 0%

s3e03 - The Ice Bandits

Bonnie - They walk arm-in-arm into the diamond place, but Michael was making innuendoes about other women when she was sitting right next to him in the car 30 seconds previously so probably nothing really going on.

Probability: 5%

Jody - She's engaged to Charlie. Michael tells Charlie "She's not the one I'm interested in, it's *you*," with his standard flirtatious grin and god, that's hot. Spoiler alert: Charlie is a crook. Even after she finds out the truth she doesn't really express romantic interest in Michael although she does paint his portrait.

Probability: 5%

s3e04 - Knights of the Fast Lane

Diane - He's too preoccupied with Stacy's case to flirt. She hugs him after he rescues her but we don't see them together again.

Probability: 5%

The random cheerleader - She seems interested, but we don't see them together again either.

Probability: 5%

s3e05 - Halloween Knight

Bonnie - He's very protective. Tinhats would probably make something of the fact that her costume is Scarlett O'Hara and his is Rhett Butler. Still, nothing too overtly romantic.

Probability: 5%

Esmerelda - She'd probably put a love spell on him in a hot minute but I think he finds her a little terrifying.

Probability: 5%

Denise - She's friendly but not overly flirtatious. Also she gets murdered before anything can happen.

Probability: 0%

s3e06 - KITT vs. KARR

Mandy - She's with John. No indicators that they're interested in a threesome.

Probability: 0%

s3e07 - The Rotten Apples

Marilyn - They're hardcore flirting and she says she hopes to see him again. They kiss after he wins the mechanical bull contest, but then she catches a bus out of town. She kisses him goodbye and he does this "oh yeah, I still got it" move but we don't get any strong evidence that anything else happened.

Probability: 10%

Rebecca - Not a lot of flirtation, and the kids are always around cockblocking.

Probability: 10%

s3e08 - Knight in Disgrace

(I was almost too distracted by KITT and Michael in this ep to pay attention to the GOTW, lol. KITT's hurt confusion when Michael leaves and him being a total bitch to Michael's would-be replacement and the way he goes with Michael even when he thinks he's on the wrong side of the law, I'm *dying* here...)

Linda - She comes onto him and roofies him at the bar and he wakes up with his shirt undone, but she's Boyd's girlfriend and (spoiler alert) another hapless single mom so she probably didn't do anything untoward, assuming he was even conscious enough by the time she got him home. After she gets to know and trust him she doesn't make any moves on him and they don't smooch or anything at the end.

Probability: 5%

s3e09 - Dead of Knight

Cindy - It's not entirely clear what their relationship is. At the beginning it looks more like he's trying to pick up on her than they're actually dating. He's obviously really invested in helping her but he'd undoubtedly do the same for anybody who was in mortal peril because of him. At the end in the ambulance he calls her "baby" and says they have a date. In the last scene Cindy is leaving for Broadway soon but they're all together at the Foundation and it's unclear how much time has elapsed. Not conclusive but suggestive.

Probability: 50%

Renard's girlfriend - She's putting the moves on him while he's feverish and loopy and somehow his shirt has gotten unbuttoned but there's a guard in the room so probably nothing happened.

Probability: 10%

s3e10 - Lost Knight

"If I may be so bold, what on earth were you *doing* down there?"

(LBR, Michael is too busy angsting about KITT to try and get laid in this ep.)

Doug's mom - In a relationship, although at the end she decides to break things off with her boyfriend so she can focus more on her son. She and Michael kiss goodbye but it's improbable that there's anything more than that since she just said she doesn't need another man around right now.

Probability: 0%

s3e11 - Knight of the Chameleon

Tonie Baxter - They seem to know each other from a previous case. He kisses her on the forehead at the end of their first scene. They don't really seem to interact romantically during this episode. Michael gets distracted by KITT's contest winnings before they have a chance for a goodbye kiss.

Probability: 10%

s3e12 - Custom Made Killer

Unnamed Dancer (offscreen) - Devon: "You've been rather difficult to reach lately. Particularly last night." Michael: "I got a weakness for dancers." HIs protest that they're "innocent girls working their way through college" leaves little doubt about what kind of dancer this was.

Probability: 95%

Joan - No evidence of romantic interest. Also (spoiler alert) she's collaborating with the bad guys.

Probability: 0%

Debra - He flirts at the end and she kisses him goodbye. Lewis says "He'll be back" and she gives a suggestive eyebrow raise. Possible but not conclusive.

Probability: 25%

s3e13 - Knight By A Nose

M: KITT, how close are you? It's getting stuffy in here. K: Any closer and I'll have to marry this limo.

Maxine - They hug and he calls her "sweetheart" when he shows up. Devon accuses Michael of being biased because Max is attractive but he describes her as "a very, very close friend." Yet we never actually see them kiss. Maybe they really are just friends?

Probability: 25%

s3e14 - Junkyard Dog

Fran - He's too preoccupied with KITT to do much flirting for most of the episode, but they're having a picnic/makeout session together in the semi, seemingly alone, at the end. It's a reasonable assumption that things escalated at some point, even if they didn't want a scandalized KITT watching and commenting at that particular moment.

Probability: 80%

s3e15 - Buy Out

Mel - They keep it professional for most of the ep but after he catches the bad guy he tells her she's attractive without her welding mask and they kiss. We don't see them together again but it's possible that more happened.

Probability: 50%

s3e16 - Knightlines

Janet Morgan - She's recently widowed and not in the market yet. No romantic interaction.

Probability: 0%

s3e17 - The Nineteenth Hole

Daisy: Is that thing blown? KITT: I beg your pardon?

Jamie - After they fake being married at the hotel she kisses him before the race. Not a lot of other romantic interaction but he and Bonnie and Devon do seem to be sticking around to watch the race so something could happen.

Probability: 50%

Daisy - He flirts with her a little at the meetup but no indication that it goes beyond that.

Probability: 0%

s3e18 - Knight and Knerd

Allie - She rides off into the sunset with Elliot.

Probability: 0%

Receptionist at Gifford's - He flirts but no indication that it goes anywhere.

Probability: 0%

Vanessa Sutton - Apparently he gives a really good massage but she's (understandably) pissed off that he wasn't who she was expecting the massage from. Also she's a villain and is too busy setting him up to get murdered for anything to happen.

Probability: 0%

s3e19 - Ten Wheel Trouble

M: Hey, are you hungry back there, partner? K: Perhaps a little lonely, Michael. But rather enjoying my independence.

Sally - He turns on the charm when they first meet but things go south rapidly when he talks her brother into going to jail. By the end he's back in her good graces and she likes him enough to steal a kiss from him before he says goodbye. You know her hormonal teenage brain is thinking about it but for reasons that should be obvious, he isn't going there.

Probability: 0%

s3e20 - Knight In Retreat

KITT: Of course, there is one other possibility. Devon: What is that? KITT: The lady of the retreat. She's quite attractive. Of course, knowing Michael the way I do, it would strictly be in the line of duty.

Bianca - She seems to find him physically attractive, and maybe if she hadn't been so busy torturing him she would have tried to have a little fun with him. But considering what he suspects her of, he probably wouldn't have gone too far unless he absolutely had to.

Probability: 0%

Monica - She flirts with him at the bar and comments on what a waste it is to kill him, but nothing is likely to have happened due to both time constraints and her being Bianca's henchwoman.

Probability: 0%

s3e21 - Knight Strike

Sheila - She acts jealous when he makes the date with Tyler but he seems more exasperated than romantically interested in her. They kiss before he goes into the warehouse but it's fairly short and chaste. At the end, she goes off with O'Malley.

Probability: 0%

Tyler - She makes a date with him at the gun range but it's just a distraction. He flirts with her but it's all in the line of duty.

Probability: 0%

s3e22 - Circus Knights

Bonnie: I have to admit, Devon, he looks fantastic. Devon: Yes, in spite of that ridiculous costume he's wearing. Bonnie: No, I'm talking about KITT!

Terri - They keep things professional at first, although when they're in the car together she asks if circus-folk camaraderie is the only reason he's interested in helping her. He says he's be lying if he said yes and presumably she reads it as him being interested romantically. After his near-murder in the ring they have a heart-to-heart talk and kiss. At the end he tells her to call him if she needs anything. *Anything?* Hmmm...

Probability: 50%

Tiger - She hits on him but he's not into it.

Probability: 0%

s4e01/02 - Knight of the Juggernaut

K: I'm asking you how I look. M: You look great, same as always!

Marta - They have some chemistry in their first meeting. He asks her out when they get back to her apartment. But (spoiler alert) she's part of the conspiracy to steal the cernium and sets him up to get murdered (twice). He cools it on the flirting after the first incident (understandably, since if he takes her story at face value she was assaulted and possibly worse) although he still acts protective of her. After she helps them get the bad guys she's hanging out with the Foundation crew at the end but we don't see any more romantic interaction.

Probability: 25%

Jennifer - No overtly romantic interaction. They're antagonistic for most of the episode although they make up at the end.

Probability: 0%

s4e03 - KITTnap

Karen - She's doing her doctoral thesis on KITT and spending a lot of time with Michael in the progress. Judging by the way they're holding hands in their first scene and then making out at her apartment, there's obvious romantic interest. And she clearly has more than academic interest even after (spoiler alert) she gets held hostage by the bad guys so it's a reasonable assumption that if they weren't already banging they're going to at some point.

Probability: 95%

s4e04 - Sky Knight

Bonnie - He's pretty touchy-feely at the airport and they hug after saving the day but no overt romance.

Probability: 5%

s4e05 - Burial Ground

Susan - They keep it professional for most of the episode. He tries to hit on her at the end but she's in a relationship with Eagle. That doesn't stop her from giving him a goodbye kiss but no indicator that it goes any further than that.

Probability: 0%

s4e06 - The Wrong Crowd

Ann - She spends most of the episode being menaced and/or held hostage by the bikers and we don't really see them interact with each other in a non-case-related way.

Probability: 0%

RC - Michael is very tenderly concerned when he finds him knocked out by the side of the road. But probably neither of them swing that way.

Probability: 0%

s4e07 - Knight Sting

Gaye - She seems young. And also kind of annoying. He hugs her in the hospital but it doesn't look particularly romantic. No evidence of interest on either side.

Probability: 0%

Bonnie - He flirts with her when they're planning the operation and she shows him her dress. The rest of the episode they're too busy with the mission for any shenanigans.

Probability: 0%

RC - He's clearly been raiding Michael's closet for that sweater. But Michael is cool with it. No overt indication that they're more than bros, though.

Probability: 0%

s4e08 - Many Happy Returns

Amy - He's flirting up a storm but whoops, Devon is cockblocking and she's actually there with a mission for him. However, it's not all business and she surprises him with a birthday cupcake and some birthday smoochin', until duty calls again. She makes some innuendo about "getting to adolescence and maturity later" as he's leaving so she's obviously willing to take a rain check. She's back in the semi with them at the end and Michael invites her on vacation with him. We don't see her answer but it's a safe bet it's a yes.

Probability: 95%

s4e09 - Knight Racer

Elena - At first it's all business but they seem to be having fun dancing at the reception. They have a heart-to-heart talk in the parking lot until the hit man shows up. They hug after the big reveal about Elena's dad and the fight with Wayne's partner but don't kiss. Maybe Michael would think twice about getting involved with a friend of Bonnie's.

Probability: 10%

Unnamed track bunnies - Michael says it wasn't easy ignoring all those trophy queens and their phone numbers, implying that he did indeed ignore them (maybe more because he had to get back to the office than out of disinterest).

Probability: 0%

s4e10 - Knight Behind Bars

Julie - He agrees with KITT that she's cute, but they don't really express romantic interest to each other beyond a hug after he tosses Nelson into the ocean. Also at 20 she's a little young for him.

Probability: 0%

Gymnastics instructor - She flirtatiously tells him she's free the rest of the day, but he isn't. No indication that they see each other again.

Probability: 0%

s4e11 - Knight Song

Bonnie and/or RC - They're all playing hookie together and conspiring to keep it from Devon. Shenanigans?

Probability: 5%

Sanford - No indication of romantic interest, also she's a villain.

Probability: 0%

s4e12 - The Scent of Roses

K: I'm sorry, they don't allow cars in hospitals. I would have been closer. M: I know you would.

Stevie - They appear to have been staying at the beach house together so it's a safe bet, even if (spoiler alert) they never got to consummate their marriage.

Probability: 95%

s4e13 - Killer KITT

"Not now, Michael. I have a headache."

Bronwen - She and Michael barely interact, plus she's probably Berio's girlfriend.

Probability: 0%

s4e14 - Out of the Woods

Sam - He's flirtatious when they first get reacquainted but too busy working on the case for anything to happen before it's revealed that (spoiler alert) she's a villain. He does hug her when she surrenders at the end but I assume that trying to murder him is a dealbreaker.

Probability: 0%

Ellen - No real evidence of romantic interest and she says goodbye with a handshake rather than a kiss.

Probability: 0%

s4e15 - Deadly Knightshade

Bonnie - She's more preoccupied with Templeton. He does give her a swan in his magic act at the end.

Probability: 0%

Nancy - He's too busy with the investigation to even do much flirting.

Probability: 0%

s4e16 - Redemption of a Champion

Miss Cooper - Michael obviously has a hot date that most likely would have ended with some lovin' if he hadn't once again been cockblocked by KITT and Devon. At the end, Michael is dressed up for Date Night, Take 2, but gets called back to the semi again. Does she give him a third chance? I mean, *I* would...

Probability: 50%

Nurse Tremount - He flirts with her to get info and comforts her after she breaks down and confesses to the scam but no indication that it goes further than that. Plus she’s in an adulterous relationship with the villainous doctor.

Probability: 0%

s4e17 - Knight of A Thousand Devils

Claudia Terrell - She's a villain. When she makes a pseudo-date with him it's just to set him up.

Probability: 0%

Agent Jonas - They bet dinner on the arrest and Michael seems to be taking his death extremely personally. Juggernaut slash ships have been built on less. If he were a chick I'd say "extremely probable" except for the fact that Jonas was married with kids. Not that it stops some people, but it would most likely stop Michael.

Probability: 0%

"Ana-Lucia" - She keeps him up all night working on her car and he says he's going to come back after the race is over and demand equal time. Her response: "You won't have to demand." Plot twist: She's actually a Federale. We don't see her again after they apprehend the bad guy so it's questionable whether their flirtation was still valid for her real identity.

Probability: 10%

s4e18 - Hills of Fire

Sandra Rusk - Barely any interaction and also she's a villain.

Probability: 0%

Tess Hubbard: No significant romantic interaction. Probably too busy with her charitable work to go chasing after pretty-boys.

Probability: 0%

s4e19 - Knight Flight to Freedom

Lisa - Too busy dealing with a revolution for any shenanigans.

Probability: 0%

s4e20 - Fright Night

Karen - They keep things mostly professional but she buys him lunch at the end. No real indicator that it ends in anything romantic, though.

Probability: 5%

Liz - They flirt a little when he interviews her ("I appreciate your interest." "I'm interested!") but it doesn't really go anywhere.

Probability: 5%

s4e21 - Knight of the Rising Sun

N/A - No female guest characters and nothing particularly shippy with Bonnie.

Probability: 0%

s4e22 - Voo Doo Knight

Harana - She's a little flirtatious at the party. When she puts one of her zombifying earrings on him, she gets a little touchy-feely and tells him they could have had a future together but there are two of her goons in the room and she's sending him to the soon-to-be-demolished building so she probably doesn't have time to take advantage of him even if she wanted to do it with an audience.

Probability: 0%

Elizabeth - Michael nudges Devon into letting her stay an extra few days, and she seems pretty good with that. We don't see them kiss but they're engaged in a pretty intense hug at the end.

Probability: 90%

...at least he got to go out with a bang?

#knight rider #is srs bsns #long post #this was a much better use for my time #than my hamfisted car repair #and less likely to result in death by misadventure #than trying to clean the gutters

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alleiradayne · 4 years

Photo

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story…

THE MIDNIGHT RIDE

Long is our list of ghost stories laid to rest. But when the dark rider returns thirty years after his exorcism at the hands of the Winchesters, Sam, Dean, and I are faced with the possibility that we’ve been wrong about one thing.

Some urban legends never die.

Part II - Tales From the Crypt

Summary: In Sleepy Hollow, New York, Sam, Dean, and the reader begin their investigation. Warnings/Tags: A dead body, talk of bodily harm, language, alcohol consumption, and some flirting. Characters/Pairings: First Person Female!Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Word Count: 3,103

“We were able to identify most of the bodies, but a few are still John or Jane Does.”

The coroner led us around a table where a cadaver lay covered by a thick white sheet. She continued talking as she drew the sheet to the corpse’s waist, but I heard little and less of what she said. I barely stifled a yawn before sipping from my thermos. Coffee scalded my tongue but I’d rather deal with that than pass out on my own two feet at four o'clock in the afternoon.

Sam and Dean had insisted on driving through the night. Every time I had managed to fall asleep in the Impala, I had woken up sore and aching ten minutes later. So instead of risking another chiropractor bill, I had researched what I could of The Headless Horseman. Unfortunately, I had learned next to nothing besides boring variations on the same bullshit story from the urban legend.

Another yawn scattered my thoughts, and my vision finally focused on the exposed body before me. Headless as expected, no surprise there. Lacerations crisscrossed all over the torso and what remained of the neck, also expected. But something about those lacerations piqued my interest and so I leaned closer.

Thin black crusting outlined every cut, no matter how deep or superficial. The coroner and Dean were chatting amicably when I prodded Sam in the rib. He regarded me with a raised brow as I pointed at the lashes and said, “Look.”

Sam bowed in beside me, and the scent of his freshly washed hair filled my nose. So close, I eased into his warmth and leaned closer. “That,” I muttered as I pointed. “Aren’t those burns?”

He eyed me with a suspicious sideways glance before his smile spread across his lips, and he nodded. “Good catch, Y/N,” he started. “But the lashes alone are confusing. Since when does the Headles—”

“We’ll get back to you if we learn anything else,” Dean said loud enough to drown out Sam. “Thank you for your time, miss.”

Sam and I followed Dean’s lead and thanked the coroner for her time as well. She thanked us in return—flashing a warmer than casual smile at Dean, who blushed—and covered the cadaver as we headed for the door.

In the hallway, Dean breathed a sigh of relief. “Christ, she’s too smart.”

“What, did she reject you before you even asked?” Sam jested.

Dean tossed a tentative glance my way. “Nah, I got her number. But after that, she started asking about the decapitations and the lashes looking strange…” He trailed off as we stepped out into the cool fall breeze and pale October sun. “I don’t think she knows more, but I’ll have to be on my toes later.”

“And by later you mean after we finish this hunt, right?” I asked across Sam.

At the car, Dean popped the driver’s door open, then said, “She asked me out tonight.”

As they slid into the front seat, I eased into the back. “And you said what?”

He shot me a dark glare in the rearview mirror. “I asked her for a rain check until this weekend.”

Wow. “Okay, I’m impressed,” I replied.

“I’m… not surprised,” Sam replied. “Considering what’s going on.”

The Impala roared to life as Dean twisted the key in the ignition. When he pulled away from the curb, I leaned over the backrest and asked, “What is going on?”

Sam shot a nervous look at Dean before he took a deep breath. “Can we solve the case first?”

When he turned to look at me, I glared back. Earnest. Honest, even. But I wasn’t about to let my feelings for him cloud my judgment. “No. I need to know what we’re up against and...” I paused, my attention snared by the houses we passed. Every yard displayed a scene from the urban legend that had put Sleepy Hollow on the map. Various iterations on The Headless Horseman stood in every yard, myriad pumpkins and overly detailed horses impressively crafted. But each and every rider had a jack-o-lantern for a head or held one aloft. Not a single display had armed him with a whip or a cannonball. “Seriously, those lashes were burned into that victim. Since when does he wield a whip? And what kind of whip can do that?”

“One made from the spinal bones of human corpses,” Dean strained under his breath.

I blinked several times before I responded. “Excuse me?”

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Dean started. The Impala followed his command as it lumbered over the driveway into a diner’s parking lot. “We’re gonna eat dinner here. But we can’t talk about work. Once we’re in there, we’re FBI agents, and on-going investigations are off-limits. Got it?”

Better than nothing. “Once we get back to the motel?”

Dean pulled into a spot and slid the shifter into park. “We’ll tell you everything.”

Everything. So foreboding. As if all of their skeletons had been buried in an urban legend. Both of them turned over the backrest when I remained quiet too long. Weighed and measured, their expectant glares demanded an answer.

So I agreed.

“Deal.”

“I haven’t had a pot roast sandwich like that in ages.”

Dean covered his mouth with his fist as he held back a deep belch. “The pecan pie was damn near the best I’ve ever had.”

“And that hot cider!” I added. “That was definitely homemade.”

“Uh, you’re damn right it was homemade. Everything there was homemade,” Dean replied. “Well, except for maybe Sam’s salad.” He turned to Sam and his face fell. “Sammy?”

I followed Dean’s concerned glare and found Sam near the motel room door, eyes glazed over and staring into the middle distance. I knew that look. I’d felt it before, and I’d seen it on both of them too many times over the years. The severity of the situation sank in then, and reality returned in a rush. Forgotten was the pot roast, the pecan pie, and the hot cider. Abandoned was the lighthearted banter, and our carefree dinner.

Death stalked us in the shadows, no longer a friendly face.

“I think we should sit down,” Sam suggested as he crossed the room. When he slumped onto the bed, he said, “This story gets dark in a hurry.”

I shed my suit jacket and boots at the small table under the singular hanging lamp. “I get the feeling something pretty awful happened,” I said as I crossed the room and sat beside him.

Dean withdrew a bottle of scotch from his duffel bag. “Normally I’d save this for after we waste this asshole, but,” he paused as he popped the cork free of the bottle. “I have some doubts that’ll ever come to pass.” He pulled three short plastic cups from his bag then and poured two-finger pours into each. He handed a cup to Sam, who passed it on to me, and handed another to Sam before seating himself at the table with the third. A sip and a hum preceded his thoughts. “You got that picture handy, Y/N?”

I dug through my backpack at my feet and withdrew the article. “Right here. I saw The Headle—”

“Yeah,” Dean interjected. “He’s back there, in the field. Anything else jump out at you?”

Confused, my brow knotted as I focused on the article once more. “I mean, there’s this family standing in front of what is clearly the Sleepy Hollow museum. I recognized the building when we got into town,” I said. Another yawn reminded me I had not slept more than a couple of hours over the last twenty-four. "But I don't see anything else. No aberrations, no distortion, no orbs… other than Tits McGee up in the field there, I got nothing."

Sam pointed to the father. "Look a little closer here. You might recognize someone."

Recognize? The picture was thirty years old. Hell, I'd have been a kid back then. Probably just shy of seven years old.

Seven.

My focus snapped to the caption.

Thomas (7).

Something instinctual snapped my attention to Sam, and I saw it then. My jaw dropped as recognition crept along my spine. Boyish charm had grown ruggedly handsome, but the fear behind his wide stare had remained the same. I returned to the photograph, focusing on the older brother, and the truth settled in the pit of my stomach. A suave sense of confidence radiated from John (11). And he was the spitting image of his father, Richard Phillips (36).

He still is.

The image blurred as tears burned my eyes. I looked up to find Dean glassy-eyed and well into his cup. The start of so many thoughts stuttered on my clumsy tongue. How had I missed it back at the Bunker? Of course John Winchester would give an alias to a reporter. When I returned to the photograph one last time, I stared at their father, and the tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Every few months, John grew out his beard," Dean started. "He had this laser-like focus on hunting down the thing that killed Mary, and a time or two every year, he'd get a wild hair up his ass so bad, he'd forget to shave."

"That year," Sam said as he pointed to the photograph, "the wild hair was Sleepy Hollow. He was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that we would learn something important here."

Dean finished his pour of scotch and refreshed his glass. "He found nothing except for a bunch of busted pumpkins and a vengeful spirit."

I wiped at my eyes with the cuff of my shirtsleeve. When I turned to Sam, I asked, "How did he exorcise it?"

He shifted closer on the bed as he looked at the photograph. "We don't know. I was too young yet."

Dean grunted as he sat up in his seat and stood, caught his balance, then shuffled across the room to sit on the opposite bed. "Dad had just started filling me in on what he was doing about a year before we came here. But he did his best to ease me into it. Sam had hardly a clue until that day," he said as he pointed at the photograph.

"What happened?" I asked as I turned back to Sam.

A deep breath allowed him space to stall, but that same fear in his eyes returned. "I saw something." His stare glazed as it drifted off into the middle distance once more. "Bodies. Headless bodies," he stuttered. "A headless rider on a dark horse." He continued through a stream of consciousness, as though he were somewhere else. Sometime else. "Cannonballs and a whip of human spinal bones engulfed in flames."

My heart railed against my ribs as if to escape. Numb with dread, my fingers and toes burned, and fresh tears blurred my vision. "You were so young. That must have been terrifying."

He nodded and sipped from his drink. "At the time, yeah. I had nightmares for months. Over the years, I must have forgotten about it or blocked it out. But then you found this case. However you ended up with that article, it was no coincidence."

I looked to Dean then, and he clarified. "Something wanted us to come back. I think. To actually finish the job Dad didn't."

Something about that statement sparked a thought I had not yet considered. "How do you know this isn't something leftover from Chuck?"

A thoughtful look twisted his face. "We took care of Chuck and his mess. It's definitely a hunch but, I'd wager this isn't related. No, I think Dad just got this one wrong. He thought he did the job and we skipped town. But he screwed up and now The Headless Hessian is back again."

Hessian.

"What did you just call him?" I asked.

Dean regarded Sam, and they shared an equally confused look. "The Headless Hessian."

"I thought Hessians were German soldiers that fought for the Brits in the Revolution," I said.

When Sam nodded in agreement, he said, "You would be correct. And that was the original story until more retellings of the urban legend were printed."

Retellings. Talk about wild hairs. I dove for my backpack then and tore out my tablet. As it booted, I said, "I tried doing some research on The Headless Horseman on our way out here, but all I found was bullshit about the urban legend. Pumpkins and horses and heads and Ichabod Crane and crap like that. Nothing about cannonballs and whips made out of human spinal columns."

Sam propped one leg up on the bed as he turned to face me. "Regardless of what I saw as a kid, that story sounds familiar, too. I know the Hessian angle but I know I've also heard a version with a whip and a cannonball."

"Those," I started, then paused to type furiously, "I never knew. I always thought the myth was Ichabod Crane. But yesterday when I was searching for information, I think I found a website that mentioned a Hessian soldier as a part of the myth." Once I had found what I searched for, I turned the tablet to face them. "I thought it was a mistake. I know way too much about American history and its bullshit colonialism, so I wrote it off as a discrepancy. But when Dean referred to him as the Headless Hessian, it clicked."

The image on the tablet flipped through several iterations of a headless rider. The first carried a jack-o-lantern high over his head, then a headless horse with a headless rider appeared on the screen. Next, a rider carrying his own head, followed by a headless rider brandishing a sword. Then another hefting a muzzleloader, and finally a headless rider wielding a vicious whip made out of bone.

"Wait, which legend is that one?" Sam asked as he pointed.

The image of a man carrying his head under his arm while astride a horse froze on the page. "According to the website, that appears to be the dulachan. Irish folklore. The whip is a part of that legend, too."

"But our guy doesn't have his dome on him at all," Dean clarified.

"Exactly," I said, "Which was why I basically wrote this website off. Came to the same conclusion."

Sam pointed to the screen as the image changed to a giant man astride his horse brandishing his own head high above his shoulders. "That's the Gawain myth. Gawain beheaded the Green Knight."

Excitement flooded my senses as I exclaimed, "Yes! The Green Knight returns to challenge Gawain to a duel every year." The image changed again to that of a headless rider and horse. "And that's the Scottish story of the would-be chieftain, Ewen, who was decapitated at the battle at Glen Cainnir."

"And the headless man on a carriage?" Dean asked as the image changed once more.

"The Coiste Bodhar. Sometimes referred to as the gan ceann," I explained. “Damn, this website has everything…”

"But what does it all mean?" Sam asked.

I opened my mouth to reply but found I had nothing to say. A sudden silence filled the tiny motel room, all the wind sucked from our sails. It had to mean something. So many stories with their variations. Then again, they all shared a singular consistency.

“Maybe they’re all correct,” Dean mumbled.

Confusion scattered my rambling thoughts, and my focus snapped to Dean. “What are you saying?”

“Every story has the same headless dude in it, right?” he asked, echoing my idea. “Even the Hessian myth isn’t the original story. Irish, Scottish, English. They all have their own versions that are way older than the American story.”

“But a lot of Americans are the Irish, Scots, and English,” Sam added.

“Son of a bitch, we are English. I bet our forefathers fought in the Revolution,” Dean concluded and Sam agreed with a confident nod.

With the pattern weaving before my mind’s eye, I found a thread, a singular frayed end, and tugged on it. “So it’s not surprising at all that the stories are so similar. Immigrants made up the Headless Hessian based on their own urban legends from the motherland.”

“Exactly!” Dean declared.

Elation filled me for a brief moment before Sam ruined it again. “But then what is it?! A fae? A spirit? A curse? It could be anything with that theory!”

“You’re a real party pooper, you know that?” I said as I flopped back on the bed. “We were so close to something, I know it!”

Dean stood in a rush, then quickly returned to the bed. “Okay, that’s enough of the hooch,” he said as he crushed his empty cup and tossed it into the bin. “Let’s pick something and go after it. We’re never going to figure out what it actually is in a reasonable amount of time.”

“That’s a terrible plan!” Sam barked. “We’ll waste more time just trying random shit.”

Both of them fell quiet at that. My brain, on the other hand, was anything but. We had everything to handle a fairy, a vengeful spirit, even a curse. But how? How could we blindly choose? I agreed with Dean; we needed to do something and fast. And yet, Sam had a very valid point. I gritted my teeth against the frustration that supplanted my hope. What kind of spirit manifested once a year to kill a bunch of people? How, if all the stories are true, could we put down a fae-curse-spirit?

Then it dawned on me.

I bolted upright on the bed and blurted, “It’s all three.”

“What?”

Between Sam and Dean’s incredulous faces, I forced myself to grasp the last shred of confidence before it fled. “It’s all three. A spirit cursed by the fae.”

They regarded one another again, then turned away, silently considering my theory. Even I struggled to believe it. But then Dean snapped his fingers and said, “If it’s ultimately just a cursed spirit, all we need to do is roast his bones.” He pointed at the tablet as he jumped to his feet, steady as a rock. “The Headless Hessian was buried in an unmarked grave of the Old Dutch Church!”

I turned to Sam then, tense as a drawn bowstring. When his crooked, knowing grin spread across his lips, my stomach jumped into my throat. I hadn’t seen that smile in what felt like a century. And when he spoke, my heart nearly burst with relief.

“Looks like we’re doing some digging tonight.”

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE AWESOME. IF YOU WANT IN ON THE TAGS, SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM!

THE MIDNIGHT RIDE MASTER LIST

ALLEIRADAYNE’S SPN MASTER LIST

#alleiradayne writes #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction

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theres-a-goldensky · 4 years

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BL Show Review Series - Until We Meet Again

The next show I am going to review is (spoilers) my favorite BL to date. It’s called Until We Meet Again, and it is fantastic.

Disclaimer that these are my own opinions, and I don’t know where the BL community as a whole stands on these shows. If I disliked a show you loved or visa versa, no disrespect is intended!

MASTERLIST OF BL SHOW REVIEWS

Mild Spoiler Warning and TW: brief mentions of suicide and homophobia

Until We Meet Again Rating: 9 / 10

I’ve put off writing about this show, because I’m finding it hard to articulate all of the reasons why the whole thing works so well. First of all, it needs to be said that whoever did the casting should get whatever the Thai version of an Emmy is, because every person involved in this show is so, so good. The standout, however, is Fluke as the main character, Pharm.

Fluke is, in my humble opinion, unequivocally the best actor in the Thai BL world. So much of the emotional work is done by him, in a show that is very, very emotional, and he carries the weight of the narrative really well. This man can cry on cue, and I swear he can make himself blush on cue too. You believe every second of his performance, and he makes Pharm very likable, relatable, and sympathetic without tipping over into helpless damsel territory.

Part of what makes the character so good is the quiet but firm way that he sticks up for himself. When Alex, the popular drama club president, starts to flirt with him, instead of running to Dean or meekly tolerating it, Pharm smiles politely and rejects him in a way that leaves no room for confusion. And when Dean does something that Pharm is uncomfortable with, Pharm forgives him with the gentle caveat that he never do it again. It’s said kindly, but you understand that Pharm means it, and Dean understands that too.

Anyway, that’s a hundred words just about how much I love Pharm, and we haven’t even talked about the main relationship. See, this is why I haven’t written about this show yet.

A quick overview of the show is that back in the late 80s, two university-aged men named Korn and In fell in love. However, their fathers disapproved, and Korn’s father was a mob boss who had tight control over his son. In despair, Korn kills himself and In, sick with grief, follows.

(left: Korn, right: In)

Then, cut to modern times, we meet Pharm and Dean, who we quickly understand are the reincarnations of In and Korn, respectively. It’s Pharm’s first day at university, and while he’s there doing all the introduction stuff, he meets his future best friends, Team and Manaow, and locks eyes with Dean.

Dean and Pharm both feel this connection, and their relationship is the sweetest, softest, kindest thing you will ever encounter in one of these series. Dean is a taciturn third year who is the president of the swimming club. He has plenty of female admirers, but he’s been looking for someone all his life. When he finds Pharm, he knows that his search is over. He is so gentle with Pharm, who is dealing with PTSD from In’s memories. At the same time, Dean doesn’t play any games. He makes it clear that he likes Pharm and wants Pharm to like him back. He never tries to hide his feelings with Pharm or anyone else.

(left: Dean, right: Pharm)

Ohm, who plays Dean, has less to do than Fluke, because Dean is not the primary POV character of the show, and he’s much quieter overall. But what he does well is watching Pharm and touching him like he is the most important thing in the world. He’s open with his affection and never gets hostile or aggressive the way characters often do in these stories. He’s a big guy, but he’s very kind.

Korn and In’s story is told through flashbacks that are mainly meant to mirror Dean and Pharm in the present. It’s hard to watch their happiness when we know how it’s going to end up. Earth plays In, who patiently and insistently chases after Korn. His smile is like sunlight. Seriously, he is a gift, which makes it all the harder to watch him go through so much pain. Korn is much more stoic. I think of all of the characters, he’s the one I had the hardest time connecting with. He keeps a very stern face most of the time, but by the end, it still hurts seeing him suffer.

One of the key things that makes this drama different than other BLs is that it has a genuinely compelling plot. We get to watch as Dean and Pharm navigate their new relationship while trying to piece together what is happening inside their heads. They also need to figure out how much of what they feel for each other is them and how much of it is because of Korn and In’s memories. The story went places I truly wasn’t expecting at times and kept me interested the whole way through.

The supporting characters on this show are also great. The secondary couple is Pharm’s friend Team and Dean’s friend Win. Win is the vice president of the swimming club, and Team is a junior member of the club. They immediately have that playful, fighting vibe between them that is really fun to watch.

(left: Team, right: Win)

Win’s character has lots of tattoos and piercings. He looks like a bad boy, but just like Dean, he’s actually very nice. He’s more mischievous and outgoing than Dean though. This makes him a better match for Team, who isn’t afraid to match Win’s attitude and return his teasing back at him.

Oftentimes, the secondary pairings bore me a bit, but I loved, loved, LOVED Win and Team. They are getting their own series next year, and I cannot wait for it.

Something else I want to point out about this story is that there are no Evil Female Characters. No clingy ex-girlfriends or scheming, jealous love rivals anywhere to be seen. But there ARE female characters, and they’re all great. Manaow, Pharm’s other best friend, is the main one. She’s played by Thai BL mainstay Sammy. Manaow is loud and friendly and supportive. She also gets her own boyfriend, though I wish we saw more of that relationship (give it to us in the sequel, pleassssse). Dean’s sister Del quickly joins their group of friends as well. Then there’s the less prominent members of Pharm’s cooking club. Female family members who also play big roles in the narrative.

The show isn’t without its faults. The one BLARING example that comes to mind is product placement. Until We Meet Again has the most blatant and annoying product placement I have ever seen. It almost feels like the show is stopping and having the characters give full commercials mid-episode. I refuse to mention the names of the products, but they are highlighted in a ham-handed way that is even more crass when you contrast it with the quality of the rest of the show. The worst one, by far, is at least relegated to a sort of mini-story after the episode. It involves one character encouraging another to go to the sponsored clinic and get cosmetic work done. The whole thing is not just gross but also out of character for both of them. I’ve pretty much erased it from my mind. Capitalism can burn.

The other thing is that occasionally the pacing drags a bit. I enjoyed it, but the director lingers 5-10 seconds too long on some shots, especially those involving eye contact. This is normal for BLs, but not to this extent. There’s an almost-kiss scene that drags on for nearly a FULL MINUTE in an early episode. At this point, I’ve rewatched the show so many times that I know when to hit the skip 10 secs button to move things along at a faster clip. But the first time I watched, I was like, “OK, I get it. They’re looking at each other and remembering events from their past lives. You have thoroughly conveyed this.”

But those are comparatively minor gripes and didn’t detract too much from my enjoyment. Watch this show. Have tissues ready.

And if you’re interested in fanfic, I put together rec lists for multiple BL shows including this one that can be found here and here.

MASTERLIST OF BL SHOW REVIEWS

(Send me an ask if you have a show you’d like me to review - with the understanding that I will be completely honest - or if there’s anything you think I forgot or got wrong in this review.)

#until we meet again #uwma #bl review series #ohmfluke #deanpharm #dean x pharm #bounprem #winteam #win x team #kornin #korn x in #cooheart #kao x earth #thai bl #bl recs

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flamencodiva · 4 years

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Who Do You Think You Are? - Enemies to Lovers

Description: Y/N Y/L/N and Dean Winchester seem to bump into each other quite frequently. What happens when these two hunters rub each other the wrong way?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Bingo Square: Free Space

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Drug Abuse.

Border by: @talesmaniac89

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dean growled as they pulled up the barn only to see it up in flames and a familiar figure staring at it. Dean glared at the familiar Pontiac and the figure sitting atop the hood staring at the blaze. “She is not going to get away with this.”

“Dean,” Sam rubbed at his forehead, “hunts are fair game last we checked.”

“That is a likely story,” Dean huffed. “Come on, let’s go tell her what’s what!”

Dean parked the Impala and walked over to the Pontiac. He froze as the wind blew and Y/N’s hair flowed with it. Something about the moonlight capturing it made his heart pound in his chest. He liked her, but he couldn’t tell her that, he couldn’t tell her that even though he hated her, there was something that drew him to her. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he cracked his neck and walked over to face her.

“Hey Winchester,” she threw back her head as she took a large chug from the beer bottle she was holding, “Did you bring marshmallows for the roast?”

“Y/L/N,” Dean growled, “you took over our hunt… AGAIN!”

“Wow,” Y/N snorted taking another chug of her beer, “you really think you are hot shit. I wonder when was the last time you got laid because you seem grouchy,” she smiled.

“I like her,” Sam laughed, taking a drink of beer that Y/N gave him. “She’s sassy.”

“Trust me Y/L/N, if I wanted some I could get it,” he licked his lips before giving her a once over. “Yeah… no hunter in their right mind would ever touch you,” Dean sneered as he walked away. “Let’s go, Sam.”

"Wow, someone really needs to get some," Y/N finished her beer before walking to the driver's side of her car. "It's a good thing I can beat you at pool!" She called to him before revving up the engine and driving off.

Dean looked at Sam who was still drinking the beer Y/N had given him. “Do you have to drink that?”

“It was a gift and she’s nice,” Sam shrugged.

“Are you serious?” Dean turned to Sam. “She is annoying! For the past six months, she’s been one-upping us on every hunt Garth has found us. I mean how is she ahead of us on all these hunts?”

“Maybe she’s got someone on the inside?” Sam asked with a shrug. “Or Garth calls her, doesn’t get her then calls us?”

“Well next time we are going to take one hunt away from her,” He grumbled.

One week later…

“Thanks, Garth,” Y/N hung up her phone. Cranking the radio to Black Sabbath’s war pigs, she pressed on the gas pedal and raced to her destination. As she drove in she noticed the familiar Chevy Impala. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her guns filled with silver bullets and made her way inside when she heard voices.

Dean’s gruff voice echoed in the building, “Good thing I got that shot in when I did.”

“What, the kill shot? No, I had the kill shot.” Sam argued.

Y/N walk in as she looked around the corner to see Dean kicking the dead thing’s body so that the kill shot is facing out. She saw the hole on the body

“See that? That’s obviously one of mine.” Dean gave his brother a cocky smile.

“No way, How do you figure?” Sam placed his gun back on his waistband.

“‘Cause it’s actually dead.” Dean kicked the body a few more timed.

Sam scoffed, “My aim is just as good as yours.”

“I mean, your aim’s okay. Serviceable.” Dean put his gun away as he shrugged at Sam. Neither brother noticed Y/N behind them crossing her arms.

“Serviceable?!” Sam huffed, “My aim is not serviceable Dean.”

“See those inconsequential shots to the left arm and shoulder?” Dean pointed to all the bullet wounds on the body, “Those are all you.”

“Ok seriously? Some of those are yours, Dean,” Sam let out a chuckle as he looked at his brother.

“Wow,” Y/N spoke up making the boys point their guns at her as she placed her hands in the air, “It’s just me cowboys,” she laughed. “Hey Sam, is he this cocky all the time?”

“Pretty much,” Sam smiled as he pulled her in for a hug. “How have you been?”

“Sam… don’t feed the troll!” Dean rolled his eyes at the way Sam was friendly with Y/N.

“Hey Sam how about you and I go celebrate how good an aim you got,” she looked over at Dean, “I’m sure you can find a bar skank to keep you busy short stack,” she smiled. “You can ride with me, Sam.”

“He is not going anywhere with you she-beast,” Dean growled.

“Don’t worry, Sam is safe with me short stack!” she called back as she climbed into her Pontiac with Sam.

At a nearby bar…

Dean walked in and glared at the sight he saw. Y/N was hanging off of Sam laughing at something he was saying. Dean didn’t want Sam anywhere near Y/N. Not because he was jealous, no never that. He just didn't want her bad habits to rub off on his brother. He sauntered towards them as Y/N downed a shot of what looked like Jack Daniels.

“So you mean to tell me that he is full of mud and gunk while you guys are hunting a woman in white?” she snorted.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled as he sipped his beer, “I mean, the Impala is possessed by the Woman in White and he just dives into the ravine and gets caked in mud.”

“Well, it seems that your brother isn’t the big bad hunter he thinks he is,” Y/N downed another shot as she grabbed a dart and shot it at the dartboard hitting the bullseye.

“You are a really good shot,” Sam smiled as he drank his beer. “Where did you learn to play?”

“Deadbeat dad,” she scoffed. “Mom was a hunter, she would drop me off with him when they split.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam told her. “I understand how hard it can all be.”

“So, you and Sam are a thing now? I mean Sam could do better,” Dean crossed his arms as he looked at Y/N.

“Well Sam is the cuter, sexier, taller brother,” Y/N smiled as she winked at Sam who blushed. “Hey short stack, how about you and I play a game of darts? Loser has to stay away from the other for a good month?” she smiled wondering if he could up the ante on their bet.

“Loser has to kiss Sam?” Dean asked, causing Sam to give him his best bitch face. “Good thing I never lose, right Sammy?”

“You are so on,” she laughed, “I’m on my…” she looked at her phone as it rang. Dean could make out the familiar strums of Motley Crue’s ‘Shout At The Devil. “You got Y/L/N,” she turned around to answer the phone.

Dean found himself leaning in to try and catch the conversation.

“I don’t care, Nick,” she grumbled, “I’m busy ok I’m working and it’s keeping me busy.” she placed her hand on her hip as she listened to ‘Nick’. “Does it sound like I care that they want me to be there? They terrorized me all my life, Nick. No, I will not be attending, you can bet your ass I will not make an appearance.” she hung up the phone and turned back with a smile.

Dean could tell she was lying about something. He didn’t like liars. In fact, there was something about her that rubbed him the wrong way. She may be hot, but she had secrets.

“Who was that?” Dean took a sip of his beer as she downed another shot.

“No one important,” she shrugged, “now are we going to play or not?”

Dean glared at her as she got bullseye after bullseye. He was losing to her AGAIN! And this severely pissed him off. He was supposed to be suave, cool, and most of all impressive. But with Y/N, she outdid him left and right. There was nothing he could do that would be better than her. He watched as Y/N downed another shot and looked to Dean with a smile.

“What were the terms of that bet again?” she walked up to him and let her fingers dance on his chest before she tapped his nose. She frowned slightly when Dean swatted her hand away. “What is your problem, Winchester?”

“I don’t have to sit here and deal with a terrible shot orphan that no one wants,” Dean growled.

Before Dean knew what had happened, his cheek stung from the hard slap he received from Y/N.

“You can go to hell Winchester, I see you again I will shoot you,” she growled before turning on her heel and storming out of the bar.

“Dean, what did you do?” Sam asked. Dean just sighed and went to the bar to get himself a whiskey.

Make it a double.

Three weeks later…

"Garth," Y/N sighed as she looked at her information. "Are there any hunters in the area that can help me with this? I mean there are Vamps left and this was too much for just me."

"I think Sam and Dean are--"

"NO!" she growled. "I want nothing to do with them. I want them far away from this Garth."

"But, Y/N, they can help you if there are--"

"I said no Garth," she sighed. "I'll handle it myself." She hung up the phone before Garth could argue.

Grabbing her sword she called a familiar number.

"You've reached T-bone," the voice said.

Y/N took in a deep shaky breath, "Uncle T?"

"Y/N, what's wrong? Where are you?"

She could hear him grab his keys. Closing her eyes she took another breath, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"I um… I just wanted to see how you're doing. I'm...I might be MIA for a bit. I just wanted to thank you … for being there when Dad couldn't." She could feel her tears trickling down her cheeks.

“Y/N, just… just tell me where you are hun,” she could hear him reaching for the door. His breathing sounded heavy, he was most likely rushing to his car. “Tell me where you are and I can help you out. Whatever it is hun, you know I got you. I can call your dad, he loves you Y/N. I know it wasn’t easy but he does.”

"I gotta go, Uncle T., I wanted to… to let you know that you might not hear from me for a while that's all." She sniffled, "just tell Nick that he can focus on his better kids… Okay?"

"Y/N… you know he--"

"I got to go. I'll call you when it's all good." She hung up before he could say anything more.

Climbing into her Pontiac, she drove towards the barn. She knew it was going to be rough. She was prepared to die hunting, just like her mother. Swinging the sword in her hand she kicked the door open and went to town, chopping head after head, until her world went dark.

“She smells delicious,” the voice whispered.

Y/N groaned as she struggled against the bindings. Two Vampires were circling around her like sharks at feeding time. She could feel their fingers grazing her skin. Y/N could feel the bile rise up as they inched closer and sniffed at her skin. One of them ran their tongue along her cheek.

“If you’re going to kill me do it now,” she spat.

“Patience,” one of the vamps said. “I think you would make a fine addition to the nest.”

Y/N watched as the female slit her wrist and the male tried to open her mouth. Her eyes widened at the realization of what was happening. She tried to keep her mouth closed, tried to keep from having to drink the vamp's blood. But it was too much. The male laughed when he successfully opened her mouth. The bitter iron taste reached her taste buds, she tried to spit it out but it was too late. It was in her system. She could feel it pulsing through her veins. Before she could finally release herself from the restraints, the familiar sounds of bodies dropping echoed. Taking a shaky breath she knew she was done for. She was going to get beheaded by the hunters clearing the nest.

“I’ll see you in hell,” Y/N smiled at the vamps as they waited for the hunters to approach.

“You hunters are too late,” the female yelled. “She’s one of us now… she’s going to tear you apart and drink you dry.”

Y/N used her strength to break from her restraints and grab her sword. “Hey bloodsuckers,” she called out to them.

As the male turned around, Y/N swung her sword slicing his head off. The female growled at Y/N and tried to charge at her only to have her head roll-off. Y/N hissed as a bright light shone in her eyes. When the light moved away she could make out the two figures. Once she adjusted, she could recognize Sam and Dean.

“Great,” she muttered. Looking to Sam, she tossed him her motel key before handing him her sword, “before you off me, in my motel room there are some letters that I carry around with me for occasions like this.” She looked up at him avoiding Dean’s gaze. “Just make sure they’re sent out. Burn my body and if anyone shows up for it… don’t tell them how I died just make up some story and that my wishes were to be burned.” She pushed the handle into Sam’s hand. “Thanks for being a good friend Sam… sorry I wasn’t a better one.”

“Y/N, I can’t do this,” Sam shook his head, “We don’t have to do this.”

“Sam, just… please… my uncles need to know… and… the sperm donor who I share DNA with… well, he can read what I wrote and go to hell.” She took his hand and force him to wrap his fingers around the handle as she aligned the blade with her neck. “Just let the sword do the work and go with the momentum.”

“Y/N listen to me, which vamp gave you their blood?” Sam looked to the two Dead vampires on the floor.

“The female... but I don’t see how--”

“There’s a cure,” Sam looked at her. “Our grandfather Samuel, he taught us how to make it. We can cure you. It’s not too late!”

“There is no cure Sam! It doesn’t exist! It’s a myth!” she hissed. “Now fucking gank me before I feed on some innocent bystander!”

Dean grabbed the blood off the female vampire and watched Sam and Y/N.

“Y/N,” Sam put the sword down as he looked at her, “I’m not going to kill you when I can cure you.”

“I’m a worthless hunter who got caught and turned so… can we stop fucking dragging this out, grab the sword like a man and fucking KILL ME SAM!” she grabbed his hand and pressed the sword to her neck. A small drop of blood trickled down her neck, “Fucking do it already!”

“Hey!” Dean pulled Sam away, “ Calm the fuck down sweetheart. No one is going to kill you,”

“What do you care,” Y/N sneered, “pretty sure I’m a worthless hunter in your eyes. So you can get rid of me in one swing. I’m a monster… hunters kill monsters so do your fucking job and kill me!” she growled as she bared her teeth. The sound of Dean’s pulse echoed in her head. Her eyes seemed to zero in on his neck.

“I am doing my job,” Dean glared at her, “I’m saving someone that CAN be saved.”

“Oh Screw--”

Dean didn’t let Y/N finish as he knocked her out and looked to Sam.

“I’ll drive her to the motel you drive her car,” he placed Y/N in the back seat and drove off towards the motel.

It didn’t take long for Sam to mix the ingredients they needed for the cure. Y/N looked at the brothers and gave a low animalistic growl.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she looked at the mixture Sam was handing her, “What is this?”

"Just drink it… please," Sam pleaded.

"If this doesn't work are you going to do what I asked?" She looked at Sam. She could feel Dean staring at her. But she avoided his haze like the plague. “Sam? Promise me you’ll do what I ask if this doesn’t work!”

“Trust me it’s going to work Y/N. We are not losing a damn good hunter… not today.” he glared at Dean, who was standing behind her.

Y/N closed her eyes, she placed her lips on the rim of the glass before drinking down the horrible concoction. It was vile, and it burned going down her throat. It hit her with the force of a wrecking ball, the urge to throw up strong as she dived for the small trash can by the bed. It was awful, she could feel her stomach empty but what came out was blood.

Once she got it all out of her system, she looked to Sam, “am I cured?” she grumbled. “That had to be the most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me besides meeting your brother.” she gave Sam a soft smile not caring that Dean was in the room.

“You aren’t a picnic either sweetheart,” Dean scoffed.

“I’m going to go, Sam,” She offered him a smile, “I need to call my Uncle and let him know everything is…” the sound of Ozzy Osbournes ‘Crazy Train’, came from her phone. “Uncle T… I’m fine it was touch and go for a bit, but things are okay. No, I'm not in any hospital or anything,” she rolled her eyes. “You didn’t need to--”

Dean watched as her back straightened and she clenched her fist.

“Nick,” she said dryly, “It was nothing you needed to worry… I… look asshole! You were nothing but a sperm donor okay. Most of my childhood you were drugged up and out of it so no I don’t have to respect you. So just know that the mistake you made is safe, no one knows anything about our ties so your reputation is good.” she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up the phone.

“Y/N?” Sam placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

Y/N shrugged his hand off her shoulder and glared at the brothers, “You should have just killed me when I told you to.” she grabbed her things and marched to the door.

“Way to say thanks bitch,” Dean barked.

“What do you care?!” she growled at Dean, “I’m nothing but a terrible shot orphan no one wants, right?”

Dean and Sam watched as she stormed out of the room. Dean winced when she regurgitated the words he last said to her before this hunt. Sam just glared at Dean, his chest heaved with anger. This was the first time in a long time that Dean had seen Sam angry at him. Without a word, Dean walked past Sam just in time to see Y/N turn her car to head towards the local watering hole a few miles west of the motel. Grabbing his keys, he followed in the Impala.

Reaching the bar, Y/N ordered her usual shot of Jack. she was on her seventh shot by the time Dean found her. Dean cleared his throat as he sat by her and ordered his own shot of whiskey. They sat in silence, Y/N downing her shots as Dean nursed his.

"Listen, Y/N. I think we…" Dean began but she cut him off.

“Go away,” she slurred. Downing her latest shot. “I’m going to stay out of your way… you stay out of my way and you can have all the pussy you want without my interference,” she hissed. “Should have just killed me yourself,” she downed her last shot before climbing off the stool and making her way out.

Dean slapped some money on the bar top, paying for both their drinks before following behind her and out of the bar, "Y/N… Y/N wait."

“Fuck, take the god damn hint! You don’t like me I get it… hell right now I loathe you,” she snorted, “I… don’t get me wrong you are an ass… but you are skilled, and your reputation precedes you… but let’s face it… we are never going to get along.” she laughed at the statement. “I… I thought you would be impressed that I was a strong hunter… that I can beat you at your game… but I guess you like easy,” she found the dirt on the ground to be interesting.

"You're right. I am impressed but…"

“Oh please,” she shook her head, “I know my worth… I know I’ll end up dead on my next hunt… the orphan who won’t be missed. The one whose father was forced to care for her in her teens when he had a new family.” stumbling as she walked to her Pontiac, she placed her hands on the hood to balance herself. “Nobody wants me… so… I guess I’ll --”

Dean closed the gap between them as he listened to her self-pity. Licking his lips as he found himself close to her. grabbing her by the shoulders, he caused Y/N to jerk her gaze up. "You're so fucking wrong!" he whispered and bright his lips to hers.

“What was that?” Y/N’s head was swimming. Dean Winchester just planted one on her.

“That was me making you shut up,” he growled as he kissed her again. Breaking the kiss he looked around before pulling her back behind the bar. “You have people who want you Y/N. Your phone was ringing and buzzing with messages from people. A lot from ‘Uncle T’ some from someone you named 'Alien', then you had a 'Malibu Barbie'?” he shook his head, “whoever they are… they care about you. I had no right to say what I said… you are badass Y/N.”

“We do this… it’s only one time…” she pulled his jacket and flannel off him as he pressed her between his body and the wall in the alley. Her lips grazed his stubble jaw. “I don’t do long term… I don’t do commitment.” she pulled his shirt over his head. Her fingers caressing his skin.

“We are outside, sweetheart,” He let out a grunt as her hand slipped into his pants, “unless you’re into exhibitionism?” he gave her a bruising kiss, his fingers finding their way up her shit caressing every inch of her skin.

“I can be very adventurous, Winchester,” she gasped as his hands found their way into her own pants. His fingers slipping through her folds, “Fuck.”

Dean chuckled against her lips as he pushed her pants down to her ankles.Y/N was thankful for having her wide-leg jeans on. It allowed her to remove them from one leg so she could open wide for Dean. Her shirt hiked up to her neck as he pushed the cups of her bra down and suckled on her nipple. Y/N let out a soft moan as his fingers teased her entrance. It had been a very long while since she had sex with anyone.

Dean’s fingers pumped into her, moaning at the feel of her pussy dripping with anticipation. He grunted when her fingers wrapped around his already painfully hard cock, pumping his length. Dean moaned as she worked him, his cock twitching in her hands. He could feel her walls clench around his fingers as he pumped them good and fast. He pressed on her g-spot as his palm lay flat against her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed as the hand bracing his shoulder squeezed. Dean could feel his fingers being squeezed by her clenching walls.

“You going to cum for me Y/N?” he breathed in her ear, “going to get your cum dripping all over my fingers?” he added more pressure to her clit with his palm making her buck into him.

The coil snapped as she pressed her mouth onto his opposite shoulder muffling her scream as she came onto his fingers. Panting, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes, pupils lust blown as he brought his lips to hers kissing her hungrily. Tongue and teeth everywhere in a sloppy kiss.

With a soft chuckle, Dean lifted her up and guided himself into her entrance. He moaned at the feel of her. It was tight and warm and slicked up just enough to let him enter with ease. He could feel her fingers digging into his skin as he pushed in inch by inch. When he bottomed out she ground her hips, giving it the right angle for him to let out a very soft ‘fuck’ in her ear.

There were no words as they found a rhythm, Dean swallowing her moans in a hungry kiss. His hands cupping her ass as he thrust into her. His pace was fast as he could feel her walls clenching around his cock. Her fingers moved from his shoulders to his hair. She tugged on his short strands, driving him wild. His hips sputtered as he felt her cum around him and he filled her up. His lips on hers giving her a bruising kiss emptying inside her before pulling out and putting her on the ground gently.

Breathing heavily, Y/N and Dean got dressed. Dean cleared his throat as they walked towards Y/N’s Pontiac.

“So…” Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s a one-time thing… it means nothing… like I said earlier, I don’t do commitment,” she licked her lips. “How about this… I scratch your itch… you scratch mine… friends with benefits... No strings attached.”

“Friends?” Dean smiled at her. “Just a second ago you hated my guts.”

“What can I say,” she shrugged, “you were very… persuasive.”

“Ok, Y/L/N… Friends,” he pulled her body to his before giving her a searing kiss, “with benefits.”

“Deal,” she smiled. Turning from him she climbed in her car, “I have to head to California for a bit… I need to calm down my Uncles… they don’t know that I’m a hunter so the call I made to them….”

“I’ll see you around,” Dean reassured her.

With a small wave, she closed the door, turned the ignition and drove off towards the horizon. Dean could only stand there and watch as the taillights disappeared.

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