#cas voice you hurt people? you hurt people for me? you hurt other people and then you treat me so tender? [tongue emoji]

[sillyblues]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic

part 1

Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.

Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.

If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.

More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.

Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—

“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window. 

“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.

“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”

You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.

“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”

“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.

“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.

“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”

Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.

“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”

There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.

“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle. 

“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”

“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.

“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,

“But, Miguel..”

“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”

“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.

“Pfft, really?”

“Yes, really.”

There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.

“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”

“...I missed you all too.”

.

.

.

The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.

What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.

During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.

“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly. 

“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”

“Oh no.” you silently snorted.

“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.

“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.

Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.

“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”

You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”

“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.

“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.

“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.

“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.

“You had a fight, didn’t you?”

“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”

“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation. 

“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.

“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.

But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did. 

On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had. 

“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.

“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.

“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.

You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.

“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.

“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.

“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”

“Never.” 

“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.

“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”

You start to walk away.

“[Name], por favor,”

You were nearing the exit.

“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.

“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”

What?

“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.

“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.

“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.

“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears. 

Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.

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#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐ #spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

[joshlmbrt]

Hey! I came across your account recently so I would like to make a request where Eddie and reader are secretly dating because he says he doesn't want to ruin her reputation (she's not a cheerleader or very popular, but still) but some people are starting to suspect you two, then Eddie starts bullying you so no one can continue talking about it, but there's a catch, he does it without warning you. So one minute you're in his locker and the next he's humiliating you in front of everyone, but that only increases the rumors, because everyone starts saying that not even the school freak wants you. If u dont like ignore me pls 😭

thank u so much for this request, i absolutely LOVE this type of request:p. i hope i do it justice and i apologize for it taking so long! w; secret relationship, angst!

eddie gets nervous when dustin brings something up about you - a fidgety nervous.

then eddie gets nervous when steve brings you up at a hang out you were at since you were robin and steve’s best friend - this time it’s a sweaty nervous.

he’s beginning to suspect that people realize that you both are dating and he doesn’t want your name run through the dirt just because you decided to fall in love with him.

so he does what he does best - try to ‘distract’.

you stumble when you feel a shoulder bump into yours, brows furrowing as you quickly lift your head up. you see a mess of curls and a leather jacket. you can hear other people around laugh when they notice the look on your face - confused and slightly hurt.

it was never your idea to keep the relationship a secret, it was eddie’s. you never understood why he wanted to keep it a secret - he never elaborated on the why.

it was probably only an accident, is what you think. until it happens more through the week. and you couldn’t even ask him about it because he had kept pushing you away, ignoring you.

week three was worse.

a feeling of dread heavy on your shoulders as soon as you stepped into the chilly building, fingers gripped around the strap of your bag.

robin meets up with you, a sympathetic look on her face. “did you sleep any last night?”

you give her a look. “what do you think?”

judging by the bags under your eyes, she thinks you did not. she looks away.

“sorry,” you say softly, stopping by your locker. she stops next to you, giving you a worried look. “i’ve just… i’ve never been bullied, over looked maybe, but never bullied. and i’ve never bullied others. and eddie’s my-” you pause, hand gripping the chipped locker.

robin tilts her head. “your what?”

you lower your voice. “my boyfriend.”

her eyes widen comically wide as she gasps. “what?!” you’re quick to shush her. “sorry. when did this happen? how come we never knew?”

“6 months ago,” your eyes cut over her shoulders. “and he didn’t want… anyone to know. i don’t know why, i don’t have any problem with people knowing. but i wanted to respect his wishes.”

her brows pinch together in confusion. “why would…”

“your guess is as good as mine,” you turn back to look in your locker when a group of friends pass, eyes cutting over to you before giggling, a couple of whispers shared. “and i can’t talk to him because he’s been ignoring my phone calls and hasn’t been coming over for our usual saturday movie nights.”

she frowns a bit, head turning just in time to notice the boy, eyes narrowing at him. he peeks up before quickly looking away, noticing her stare.

she knows.

maybe lunch time he went a bit to far.

went a bit to far by knocking your lunch over your chest on accident.

conversations are stopped. eyes are on you both. and there’s tears welling up in your eyes as you stare at the tray and food spread over the floor.

dustin, mike, and lucas are staring at you, a worried expression on their faces.

jason is the first to burst out into laughter. a shrill thing that makes the hairs on your arms stand.

soon, everyone joins in. thats when the first of many tears slip from your eyes.

“i hate you.” it slips before you can catch yourself and its raw with emotion, the words getting choked up on as you watch his face fall.

you turn away, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand furiously, head down. the heavy door closes behind you when you walk out.

you can hear the door open and close again, your name being yelled. you keep walking because you know who it is, and eddie is the last person you want to speak to right now.

a hand wraps around your bicep, turning you around. “hey… i’m-i’m sorry. i-” you flinch away from his palms when he tries to reach up to wipe away the tears.

“no. don’t… don’t touch me,” you step back, shaking your head. his shoulders slump and he stares at you. he didn’t know what he expected - especially after three weeks of torturing you. “why are you being so mean to me?”

his heart breaks when he hears the crack in your whispered voice. he thinks you probably didn’t want him to hear the question, but he did.

his eyes cut down to the cracked concrete, shifting the weight on his feet. “i just… i didn’t think people would actually join in with me,” he winces at the excuse. “i didn’t want people to know we were dating.”

“why? because you’re embarrassed of me or what? because this makes no sense, eddie.”

“no! no, i’m not- i’m not embarrassed of you. you would’ve been embarrassed of me.”

“well, thank you for making that decision because bullying me totally makes me believe that,” you shake your head. “you’re unbelievable, eddie.”

“what?”

“you could’ve talked to me about it instead of making me hate coming to school everyday. i’ve never felt that way, worried about what was going to happen next, but now i do. i worry about what someone is going to leave in my locker again and hide in the bathroom because of you.”

“someone’s leaving things in your locker?”

“don’t act like you care, because you don’t,” you snap. “in fact, don’t talk to me anymore. don’t look in my direction. i don’t want to see you or talk to you.”

his mouth opens but you shake your head, letting him know that whatever he was going to say, you wouldn’t change your mind.

“bye, eddie.”

#cherry writes ✿ #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn x reader

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 10

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,300 Tags/Warnings: **Sexual harassment, angst, perilous situations, hurt/comfort

Part 10: “Toil and Trouble”

After visiting his father, Dean spent the rest of his day unsettled. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but he had a gut feeling that John knew more than he was saying.

He understood that his dad was looking out for him, trying to protect him, but Dean had a problem.

He didn’t like being left in the dark.

You were working later than usual that afternoon, so he had more than one reason to invite Sam and Cas out for a drink. They met at the Roadhouse and sat in their usual corner. Unfortunately, they were getting drinks and a show.

Jo stormed out of the back room behind the bar with her mother hot on her heels.

“You stop right there, Joanna Beth—”

“Mom, you’re not going to talk me out of it! I’m taking the damn test and I’m going to get in and I’m going to the Police Academy!”

“And all the money I shelled out for you to go to college, to get your degree, something I never got, by the way.”

“I know. And I’m grateful for that, but I did the college thing for you and Dad,” Jo said.“I don’t want to go into business. I never did.”

“No, because owning your own business ain’t respectable,” Ellen said, with all due sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Never mind that I thought I could leave this place to you someday. Never mind that you’d rather be walking these streets with a gun than take care of the last thing your father left us.”

Jo finally stopped at that. She turned on her heel and withered slightly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. “I just don’t want to serve at a bar my whole life, Mom. I want to help people.”

Ellen’s brows shot up at that. She leaned back on her heels, as if she’d been delt a blow. Dean looked over and saw the guilt that set over Jo’s features, but neither Harvelle woman backed down.

“So you don’t want to end up like me,” said Ellen, clicking her tongue. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Mom, that’s not what I meant,” Jo tried, but her mother waved her off.

“No,” Ellen’s voice came out sharp as she went for a hand towel. “You do what you want, Jo. You’re grown, I suppose.”

She wiped down a few droplets by Cas’s hand before whipping the damp towel over her shoulder. And she walked down the line to continue serving her customers, leaving Jo standing at the other end, disheartened.

Sam and Dean shared a glance with each other, then with Cas, though they tried to keep their heads down and their noses out of the family business. Frankly, they were relieved when Jo left the bar.

Still, Dean couldn’t help but glance up at Ellen when she came back their way. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t you ask me if I’m okay, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was quieter, tired, but it still cut like a whip.

He bobbed his head and looked down at his beer. “Yes, ma’am.”

But after a moment, his eyes raised to find Ellen’s face.

“You want another?” she asked, pointing to his drink. It was still half full, but Dean nodded with a smile, just to help her out. She seemed to want to distract herself with work. He was liable to do the same thing when he was stressed. 

She nodded with a slight smile. After she left to go grab it for him, he raised his brows and looked over at his brother and his friend, whistling lowly.

“And we thought our family had issues,” Sam remarked. Dean huffed at that.

“Speaking of.” Dean turned to Cas on his left. “Dad told me you guys are making headway on this crime boss-turned-arsonist.”

Cas met him with a shrewd brow raise. “What did John tell you?”

Dean frowned, his brows knitting together. “I hate it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Cover his ass,” Dean replied. He lowered his voice to ask, “Have you figured out what’s connecting all the vics? What ties them to Azazel, besides the brand marks?”

Cas sighed, running a hand over his face. Meanwhile, Sam watched the exchange with tight lips.

“Dean, you know I can’t tell you that,” said Cas.

“Hey, this guy’s starting fires in my neck of the woods. I can help,” Dean said.

“We’re already working with Arson—”

“Oh yeah. Sounds like Dad’s party line.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, but Dean shook his head stubbornly.

“No, Sam. This isn’t just about fires, or some random nut job offing people,” Dean said. He tried his best to keep his voice quiet, despite the frustration coursing through his blood. “This is about Mom, no matter how much you wish it wasn’t.”

The brothers stared at each other for a moment, their silence charged with unspoken confrontation.

Eventually, Sam relented with a shallow breath through his nose. He turned to Cas, as did Dean. With the weight of both Winchesters on him, Cas finally had to sigh as well. He set down his whiskey on the countertop.

“Jerry Stillwell, the CPA,” he began. “We traced a secondary bank account in his name. It showed several ‘consultant invoices,’ for tens of thousands of dollars. The payments were wired from a company called Edlund Emporium.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “What does it lead back to?” 

“By all accounts, it’s just a wholesaler of antiques,” Cas explained. “But we believe it might be a shadow company for a larger enterprise. Drug runners are known to hide their product within secret compartments in furniture, in the frames behind paintings, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Narcos,” Dean quipped.

“Who owns the Emporium?” Sam asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cas admitted. “Its records are proving difficult to trace. However, the one relevant thing we were able to retrieve from Stillwell’s home files was an old audit of Edlund Emporium from 1996. It showed some old statements of the company using a storage facility downtown: Stull Storage.”

Stull Storage. Dean’s head tilted in thought. Why did that name sound familiar?

Cas noted his recognition with another nod.

“That particular storage facility was also linked to a money laundering scheme. You’re thinking of Paul Richardson, the father of two, who was killed in last month’s fire,” said Cas. “Well, as it turns out, he was a defense attorney who failed to get his client acquitted for that case. His client was a known drug runner, decades ago. And he actually pushed product for Azazel.”

“How do you know that?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed. “Your father remembered him from his time in Narcotics.”

Shit, Dean thought. He looked over at his brother, and by now, Sam’s gears were turning at Mach speed.

“Who owns Stull Storage then?” Sam asked. 

“A company called Savage & Co.,” Cas said. He looked over more pointedly at Dean, whose eyes widened in realization. 

“My girlfriend’s company?”

You hated having to work late. Not because of the working, but because the office was much quieter after 5:00 p.m. Too quiet.

Your desk phone rang, making you jolt in your seat. Once you saw the extension calling, you exhaled loudly and resigned yourself to answering the phone.

“Yes?”

“Come up to my office for a sec. I wanna discuss something with you,” said Nick.

And that. You really hated that.

Your eyes closed as you took in a breath.

“I’m working on an upsell for the Greenway account. Can we meet in the morning?” you asked.

“This is important,” he insisted.

You held in a sigh, but you agreed and hung up. You steeled yourself and took your phone with you as you decided to take the elevator up to the 30th floor. At least if it got stuck, it would get you out of this impromptu meeting with your boss.

Unfortunately for you, Betsy ran like clockwork. You were at Nick’s office within minutes—the penthouse suite of the building. Lavishly furnished, complete with a full leather couch set and coffee table for entertaining corporate big wigs, a large desk for Nick to pretend to work, and a fully stocked bar, where he did most of his “actual” work.

An expensive looking set of gold clubs were leaned against the wall, next to the bar. You knew it was his pride and joy, and he often brought it up in conversation when he was “networking.”

Just now, the sun was setting through the large windows overlooking his desk. The view was quite picturesque; the only thing that marred it was Nick Savage himself. He smiled and beckoned you into the room when he noticed you. You left the door open when you entered.

He got up from his desk and gestured over to the lounge area. He hinted at you taking a seat beside him on the same couch, but you sat on the opposite one, leaving the coffee table between you. His smile lessened a pinch. But he got up, as if he was just remembering something. He made his way to the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asked you over his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” you flatly replied. “Nick, I told Mr. Greenway that I would have that paperwork into processing by end-of-day today.”

“Yep, you are working hard,” Nick nodded. “Miss Busy Bee.”

He filled a tumbler three quarters of the way with bourbon and took it back with him to the couch where you sat. You crossed your legs and subtly shifted backwards. It left a foot or so of distance in between.  

“That’s what I like about you,” he continued. “You do what it takes to get the job done.”

“I take my work seriously,” you said, in a pointed tone.

Nick inclined his head.

“You sure do. And you’re doing very well. In just a few years, you’ve racked up more accounts and upsells under your belt than anyone else on the team right now. Even Josh,” he said. “In fact, I’m considering you two as my top candidates for the Senior Sales Manager position. Adam’s leaving us for another company next month.”

That compliment surprised you, as well as the potential promotion. You’d heard that Adam Milligan was interviewing with other companies, but you hadn’t known that he was leaving. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the consideration…and I would look forward to the opportunity to grow in the company.” 

Nick smiled. “Good! And while I believe in you, I just need to know that you’d be willing to do what it takes in this new role.”

That had a subtle alarm trembling up your spine.

“How so?” you asked. “Like you said, I think my margins speak for themselves, along with my ability to manage projects. I think that’ll translate well with managing the team.”

“But you’ve never managed people,” Nick pointed out. He leaned an arm on the back of the couch, his fingers drawing near to your arm. “Tell you what. I want to keep chatting about this, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t I order some dinner, and we’ll keep pow-wowing.”

“Actually,” you said, leaning away from his hand. “I have plans this evening.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’re you up to?”

You didn’t feel you had to give him any details about your personal life, let alone that you didn’t actually have plans tonight (except for watching The Princess Bride with George. It was your favorite movie to watch together).

“I’m having dinner with my boyfriend,” you answered with a tight smile.

Your womanly pride hated that you had to use Dean as an excuse, but maybe then your boss would get the hint.

Nick’s lips thinned a bit as he leaned back in his seat. “Hmm, didn’t know you had one of those.”

“You met him,” you replied, arching a brow. “He’s a firefighter, remember?”

Nick nodded, though he made a non-committal sound.

“All right, well, I should go actually. He’s picking me up,” you said.

Though when you moved to stand, Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist. His eyes met yours meaningfully, edged with interest as he eyed you.

“You sure you can’t stick around?” he asked.

His hold was firm enough to scare you, a subtle gasp catching in your throat when your eyes flicked up to his in warning. You instinctively jerked your hand back.

“Don’t touch me,” you said, even as you hated the slight tremor in your voice. “I’m warning you, Nick. I will go to HR. I don’t care how many lawyers you threaten me with. I’m not interested.”

Nick’s head tilted as he watched you with a frown.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.” He relaxed against the couch with arrogance, and it was beginning to make you sick. He crossed his arms as you stood and began to storm out of the office. All the while, his words followed you.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You still had work to do, but you weren’t taking any chances. After you made it back to your office, you grabbed your work laptop and left for home. You had to take several calming breaths as you got into your car and turned the key into the ignition, but your hands still shook.

Then the car spluttered, refusing to start. You blinked, tried it again.

Still, the engine struggled and the dashboard shook.

Damn it, damn it! Don’t do this to me, you silently begged. You knew you should’ve had Dean look the old car over weeks ago. He’d offered more than once, but you kept forgetting. You bit your lip.

“Please,” you whispered. You just wanted to get the hell out of here. You glanced up and around the parking lot to make sure it was still empty, that no one was approaching.

After another painfully long moment of puttering, the car finally grumbled to life. A relieved breath rushed out of your body, and you began to peel out of the parking lot. 

I can’t take much more of this, you thought as you drove home.

You also thought about calling Andréa. She still didn’t know all the details about what you were dealing with at the office. In fact, she knew little more than Dean.

And you really wanted to tell Dean. He had a way of calming your nerves and reassuring you when you felt out of sorts…and making you feel safe.

But you also knew how both your best friend and your boyfriend would react. Andréa would force you to go to HR, and then it would undoubtedly get messy. She could even get fired, if Nick was petty about it (and he usually was). You couldn’t afford to lose your job either.

Whereas Dean…

God, he’ll be so pissed, you thought. You had seen just a flash of his jealous side before, with Gordon. And that was one of his friends.

This would be infinitely worse.

Dean was protective. It was literally in his job description, but it was also just who he was as a person, you’d come to find. While you loved that about him, you also couldn’t have him storming your office building to wring Nick’s neck.

You needed your job. And even though you had updated your resume, with how hard you’d been working, you hadn’t had time to start scouring the online job boards…

You blew out a long breath. Your eyes were beginning to burn with frustrated tears. You sniffed and wiped under your eyes in vain.

Damn it, what the hell am I gonna do?

The question burned through your mind over and over, even when you got home. Your grandfather looked up from the show he was watching in the living room when you came in.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said. “Workin’ late?”

“Yeah,” you replied dully. You dumped your purse and workbag on the dining table and continued into the kitchen, not seeing how George frowned.

He slowly got up, wincing and at his aching joints and stifling a wet cough. He paused for a moment as a bout of nausea threatened to bowl him over.

When it passed, after a moment, he straightened. And he followed you into the kitchen, where you were peering into a near empty fridge.

“We barely have anything here,” you said with a sigh. “Okay, guess I’m going to the store. I can pick up something for dinner on the way home.”

“I’ll go with you,” George said. “I’ve been cooped up here all day.”

You shook your head without looking back at him, still making a mental note of everything you needed to buy.

“I heard you coughing. It doesn’t sound like your asthma,” you said, letting out a breath. Add a dash of worry for your grandfather’s health to spruce up your evening.

George sighed.

“Honey,” he tried. You were already shaking your head as you closed the fridge and turned to him with a frown.

“That primary doctor’s an idiot,” you said. “I’m calling your oncologist tomorrow morning.”

 You went to grab your phone to set a reminder for yourself, but George stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Would you stop?” he barked. “Just stop it!”

You blinked wide, and both literally and figurately, you took a step back. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, even when you were a child. But your earlier frustrations already had you on edge, and frankly, this was the last thing you needed.

“What?” you snapped back. “Clearly you need to see the doctor, and I’m not going to let you dismiss whatever it is you’re hiding and don’t want to tell me about! I’m sick of it.”

“Let me?” he said. “That right there is our problem. I’m not a goddamn kid. Damn well ain’t your kid or your responsibility. And I’m sick of you treating me like I already got one foot in the grave!”

You flinched as if he’d physically hurt you. Your eyes inevitably flooded with tears.

George relented when he saw it. He leaned a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“Look, hun. I’m 82. Every day, I take a stack of pills that sometimes make me feel worse than the damn cancer did. I got no illusions, and I do appreciate everything you do for me,” he said. “But you’re not my caretaker. You’re not my nurse. You’re my granddaughter.”

He grasped your hand with a warm squeeze. You sniffed and shook your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. And maybe…okay, I know I can be overbearing sometimes. But there’s a reality here that you don’t want to face,” you began. Though it was hard, you met his eyes.

“I’m not just your granddaughter,” you said. “I haven’t been since Grandma died. Because I’ve had to be more. Because you’re the only family I have, and I’ll make that choice every time.”

You let go of his hand and took up your purse, wiping at your eyes.

“But if you really want to come to the store, let’s go,” you said.

George stared back at you at a loss. Deep down, he knew there was a good deal of truth in your words, but he still felt like you weren’t quite hearing him.

Still, he followed you to the car.

You got into the driver’s seat of your Camry and briefly closed your eyes in a silent prayer. Then you turned the key in the ignition. The car turned on, to your surprise and relief.

You started the short drive out of your suburban neighborhood and down to the nearest grocery store. It was only 20 minutes away, and traffic wasn’t bad, but somehow the drive seemed to take an eternity on the two-way street. There was grass and forest on the passenger side, and the rest of the city approaching on the other. 

Unbidden, your mind kept drifting back to this afternoon in Nick’s office. His words were like tendrils of black, oily ink coiling through your mind.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.”

Your hand tightened on the steering wheel, your teeth clenching. You could picture his lazy, arrogant smirk as he leaned back into the couch.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You wanted to take one of his precious golf clubs and take a few swings at the man’s head.

“Something wrong with the car?” George asked.

“What?” you asked, flinching in your seat. But you realized then what he was saying. Your car was shaking, like it was about to stall. What the hell?

None of the service lights on the car were on, but this was a warning sign you couldn’t ignore.

George looked up as you approached a curve. “Slow down!”

Your gaze lifted just in time to see how an SUV from the opposite lane of oncoming traffic was drifting too far into your lane, on the curve. You corrected quickly with a jerk of the steering wheel, but your car jolted and stuck on the wheels’ position, and you couldn’t force it straight again.

It sent the car veering off the road and onto the grass, then tumbling down the hill into a sharp decline. You didn’t see the tree until you were feeling the impact of it hitting the front of the car, and nothing more.

You blinked awake, slowly. The side of your face felt numb as you manage to raise it from the airbag. Blood dripped down your nose over your lips, which you only realized after tasting copper on your tongue. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and wiped some of it away.

Sucking in a breath, you turned your head. Fuck, that hurt.

“Grandpa? …Grandpa!”

George was still unconscious, though he didn’t look like he was bleeding. His airbag thankfully deployed as well. You looked around for your phone…if you remembered right, it had been in your purse. You looked over, and you saw it by his feet.

Though you were held back by your seatbelt and the airbag, and your whole body felt stiff and aching, you reached over and grabbed the purse’s strap. From there you pulled it towards you, with pained grunts, and whimpers, and shallow breaths.

When you were able to fish out your cell, your blood-stained thumb shook while swiping through your contacts.

You knew you should call 911 first, but your instincts took hold. There was only one person you could call. Your eyes began to burn the longer the line rang. By the time it finally connected, the first tears welled up.

“Hey, baby. Good timing,” Dean answered. He sounded tired. “Was just thinking about calling you.”

Your heart had traveled up into your throat to hear his voice. But now, it was hard to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth.

“Dean,” you managed, though your throat became clogged with emotion. Your tears blurred your vision and finally slid down your cheeks.

You tried to push at your seatbelt; it felt like it was cutting your circulation across your chest. But that proved to be a mistake, as the tight fabric just pressed into the bruising you already felt forming against your skin. You couldn’t contain a small whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone was more alert now, changed with the distress he likely heard in your voice.

You took in a shuddering breath as more tears rolled down your face.

“I need help.”

Dean had already been home from the bar when you called. But when he heard your voice, full of pain, your plea for help—it was like a stone dropping into his stomach.

“What happened? Where are you?” he asked. Already he was off the couch and looking for his wallet and keys. Sam was crashing at Eileen’s tonight. Dean would have to call him later. He locked the apartment and hastened down the stairs.

You were eventually able to tell him that your car had swerved after locking up on you. That you’d crashed into a ditch, against a tree.

“Grandpa’s with me. He still hasn’t woken up,” you said through tears. “I can’t move—”

“Don’t!” Dean interrupted, another lance of panic running through him. But he gentled, hearing your soft crying. “Don’t move. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m comin’ to get you. Did you call 911?”

“No…not yet,” you admitted with a sniff.

He nodded to himself. “All right. I’m gonna call this in, make sure they’re on the way.”

“Don’t hang up, please,” you begged.

Dean was torn. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew he needed to get the fire department there as soon as possible.

“I won’t, I promise. Just hold on while I make the call,” he said as he climbed into his car. “I’m going to get the team out to you, okay?”

You sniffled again, but you finally agreed. Dean put you on hold while he called 911. All the while he was driving out of his neighborhood and onto the main road. He gave them his badge number to make sure they knew who he was, and that his girlfriend and her grandfather needed help on 32nd Street and Parker.

After he hung up with the operator, he got back on the line with you and kept you company while he drove. He gave you reassuring words, tried to keep you calm with a few wise cracks to lighten you up. Some of them you seemed to appreciate (others you didn’t).

When he pulled up to the right location, he didn’t see your car at first. That is, until he pulled over to the side of the road. He saw the edge of your bumper just over the slope, and then the rest of your Camry in the ditch. The hood was crumpled like an accordion into a tree, but at least it wasn’t smoking too bad (or on fire).

His heart clenched, but he forced himself to act—with the same fight or flight response he had to overpower with every call he responded to on the job.

Dean climbed out of his car and quickly grabbed the steel Halligan he kept in the trunk. It was essentially a more professional crowbar.

Then he jogged down into the ditch.

He went to the driver’s side first. He saw your tear-streaked face through the window, could hear your muffled voice call his name. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Can you unlock it?” he asked.

“I tried earlier,” you said. “It won’t open.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, no problem. Lean back.” 

You obliged him, and once he was sure you were ready, Dean used the Halligan to pry the door open. He could’ve busted open the window, but this was safer.

Once the door was cracked open enough, he pushed it the rest of the way so he could get to you. He punctured through the air bag with the sharp end of the Halligan and pushed it down to deflate it a bit. It allowed you to grab onto his arm, and he reached for you, cupping your cheek and wiping at your tears with his thumb.

“Dean…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, when you tearfully squeezed his arm. He noticed the drying blood around your nose and stained down your blouse. You were still dressed for work.

“Dean-o, hey,” said George from the passenger side. He was awake, but his eyes were half-lidded.

“Hey, George,” Dean nodded with a smile, to hide his concern. “How’re you doin’ over there?”

“Okay,” George tried, but it ended on a wet cough.

“Check on him. Please,” you asked. Dean nodded, but first, he leaned in a pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a subtle breath of relief. You closed your eyes, and a couple more tears slipped down. You squeezed his hand gratefully.

“Stay put for me,” he said. You hummed in agreement. And by now he could hear the sirens of an ambulance nearby.

Good, he thought, especially when he went over to the passenger side and wrenched the door open. He leaned George back in his seat, away from the airbag, and measured his pulse at his clammy wrist. It was a bit too fast for Dean’s liking.

“I’m good, right?” George asked. He was pale and sweating.  

“That’s right. You’re gonna be hittin’ the roller disco in no time,” Dean said. George smiled in amusement, letting out a huff.

Dean smirked, then gave you a reassuring look. “The paramedic’s coming now. Just keep taking even breaths for me.”

A couple of minutes later, two paramedics came with a board and a neck brace to carry someone out. Dean recognized them from the shift opposite to his: Ed and Harry. They were a couple of chuckle brothers, but they did their job well. Dean instructed them to get George out first, and he helped them do it.

“We’re going to get to you next, ma’am,” Ed told you.

“Is he okay?” you asked. Worry for your grandfather was steeped in your watery eyes.

“They’re taking him up to the ambulance now. Another one’s coming for you,” Dean said. He was on his way back over to your side of the car, but he hurried when he saw you trying to get out. Apparently you’d managed to unclip your seatbelt when he wasn’t looking.

“Whoa, hey! What’re you doing?” Dean said. You gave him a small heart attack when you nearly fell out of the car on your shaky legs. He guided you back to sit, but you were adamant about getting out.

“I don’t want to wait,” you said sternly, though the effect was hampered by the way your voice also trembled.

“Okay, okay. I gotcha,” Dean nodded, but he urged you to let him help. He was careful in how he slipped his arms behind your back and under your knees. “Any sharp pain? In your neck, anywhere else?”

Truthfully, your neck did hurt. But it wasn’t that bad, you reasoned. The rest was just aches and bruises you were sure you would have later. You rested against his chest.

“I’m okay,” you said. Your arm curled around his shoulder while your free hand laid against his chest. “Thank you.”

Dean sighed and pressed another kiss to your hair, and then your forehead before he made his way up the slope with you in his arms. Once he got back onto the road, he spoke to Donna Hanscum, the police officer who’d arrived at the scene. She worked in the same precinct as his father and Jody.

You briefly explained what happened to cause the crash—the SUV drifting and your car locking up out of your control. Donna took notes all the while. Dean then let her know that he was taking you to the hospital.

“She really should wait for the ambulance,” Donna said, though her eyes were kind, taking in your tear-streaked face and the way you clung to Dean. She might have to visit you later for a more detailed statement, but she knew an honest mistake when she saw one.

“Eh, I’m saving them a trip,” Dean said. “That’s gas and labor cuttin’ costs right there.”

Donna shook her head, despite a smile.

“All right, Dean. Just go.” She gave you one last look of sympathy. “Feel better, hun. Looks like you’re in good hands.”

You nodded with a small smile. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes and relaxed against Dean.

Dean stayed with you in the Emergency Department while a nurse cleaned the blood from your face, took your vitals, and tested your vision and hearing.

Your blood pressure was high, but that was to be expected. All else fell into the realm of normal, considering. Though when the nurse checked your neck, you grimaced a little when she slowly turned your head from side to side.

“Hmm. Scale of 1 to 10 on the pain?” she asked.

You glanced at Dean, who raised his brows at you expectantly. That look said, Tell the truth.

“I don’t know…4,” you replied.

The nurse gave you a knowing glance. “You can be honest. Is it a 4, or more like a 6?”

You bit your lip. “Okay, a 5.”

“All right. That’s understandable,” she said. The nurse then grabbed a brace to set around your neck. “The doctor will be in shortly to check you out, but likely she’ll prescribe you something short-term for the pain.”

You sighed in annoyance. “How long will that take? I need to see my grandfather.”

“Want me to check on him again?” Dean asked. Now that the nurse was done, he came over to where you were sitting on the edge of the examining bed to rest a hand on your back.

He’d made sure George was stable and comfortable in his own room. The ED doctor had ordered blood tests, among other things, since he was a former cancer patient. But also because he had a fever and an elevated blood pressure that didn’t seem to just be related to the crash. He was now sleeping while the hospital ran the rest of their tests.

You turned to Dean with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. “I want to see him.” 

Dean slipped an arm around you and tucked you against him more securely.

“You will, sweetheart. You just need to get checked out first,” he said. He was worried about you. You seemed all right, but he didn’t like your tendency to forget about yourself. Sometimes, you were a bit too much like him.

You sighed in defeat (for now). But after a moment, your small voice broke through the quiet.

“I should’ve let you look at the car,” you said.

Dean glanced down at you and caught the guilt written across your face. His brows knit together as his heart clenched again.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“My car, my goddamn fault,” you said through tears.

“Stop, baby,” Dean said. He held you closer, laying a kiss on the top of your head while you tried to stifle your tears.

He waited with you until the doctor finally arrived to examine you. She spotted the same things as the nurse, and prescribed you an anti-inflammatory pain killer, as well as rest. And of course, if your pain worsened, you were to come back to the ED.

After the doctor left, Dean agreed to walk you down to your grandfather’s hospital room. George was awake, though he seemed groggy with the pain medication they had him on through the IV. He greeted you and Dean with an attempt at a smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. His hand turned over to welcome yours, and he squeezed, seeing the tears in your eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sniffling. “I’m good. How’re you feeling?”

Your gaze drifted to his chart, to the medications and fluids they had him on, what tests were listed…

George’s hand tugged on yours, pulling your attention back to him.

“They’ve got it in hand. Don’t you worry about me,” he said.

You flickered at a smile, as you both knew that wasn’t in the cards. In fact, you’d barely been sitting down on the edge of his bed for a couple of minutes before you were asking if the recline of his bed was comfortable. If he needed more water, or another blanket.

George responded negatively to most of your questions, though he shot Dean an imploring look over your head. The other man nodded and gently grasped your shoulders.

Dean could see why you were blustering around—so you wouldn’t crack from anxiety and exhaustion. But he needed to stop you before you hurt yourself. (Not to mention, before you drove George crazy.)

“Hey, come ‘ere a sec,” said Dean. He guided you into a nearby chair and soothed a hand over your hair. He kneeled down next to you and grabbed your hand. You let out a breath and held onto him back. 

“You need to take it easy, okay? Need to,” Dean said, in a quiet but firm tone he didn’t often use with you. He reached for the slip of paper the doctor gave you, now stuffed in your purse. “Everything’s gonna get taken care of. You just relax here, and I’m going to go fill out your prescription.”

Dean waited for you to meet his eyes; he was only satisfied when you nodded in acceptance. He gave you a smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was comfort and relief, for both of you.

You held him there for a moment with a hand on his cheek. Your fingers traced across his brow, and down his jawline. If it were even possible, after everything he’d done today, you were never more grateful for him than in this moment.

George watched the little scene from his bed with a soft smile.

Finally, he thought. And it meant many things.

After Dean reluctantly pulled away, he promised he’d be back soon. He then left to take your prescription to the closest pharmacy, also fishing out his phone to call Sam and let him know what was going on at the hospital.

Dean had a feeling you all were going to be here for a while.

AN: *exhales* Okay. 😅 A lot going on in this chapter. Another piece of the puzzle, more of why Nick needs his ass handed to him, and a dramatic save. Let me know what you thought!

And please forgive me for where we're going next...

Next Time:

Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

Keep Reading: PART 11

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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#Toil and Trouble #Smoke Eater #Part 10 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #Castiel #Sam winchester #spn #supernatural #zepskies writes

[carlsdarling]

carl with fingering. it can be anything. any scenario. it’s all i can think about right now because LOOK AT HIS HANDS.

please and thank you 🙏🏼 keep on doing gods work 💗

Piano Player's Hands

Y/N gets really obsessed with Carl's hands... Bit more of a plot, than sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

Piano player's hands, that's what popped into your head when you first became aware of Carl Grimes' hands during a boring meeting at the Alexandria Community Center.

You were sitting around a large round table, and the topic was how to make the Alexandria neighborhood safer because Saviours often prowled around the area

Carl didn't say much - he never did - he just listened, both hands wrapped around a coffee cup. Once you started, you couldn't stop looking at his hands. They were big for such a slender boy, but graceful - with long, slender fingers and clearly visible knuckles. Really the hands of a piano player; only the chipped and somewhat dirty fingernails and the calluses, the rough skin and the small wounds didn't fit the picture, you mused. But Carl's hands were mostly busy working, killing walkers or cleaning weapons. There wasn't much time for hand and nail care.

"Y/N?" asked Maggie impatiently, and you noticed startled - apparently she hadn't addressed you for the first time.

"Um, what?" you asked dumbly, and Maggie rolled her eyes.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to be assigned to regular patrols outside the wall?"

"Uh, yeah," you stammered, taking your eyes off Carl's hands with difficulty.

                                                           ***

In the following time you caught yourself again and again thinking about Carl in a juicy way. About him and his hands, especially his fingers. You imagined Carl pleasuring himself; how his long fingers closed around his hard shaft and moved up and down, squeezing lightly, how he rubbed his thumb over the wet tip, how he tossed his head back and forth on the pillow and moaned. Certainly Carl did it every day; at least that was true of most boys his age. You had never had much contact, but now your thoughts were constantly circling around Carl.

When you masturbated yourself, you now fantasized exclusively about Carl; you dreamed of him sliding those fingers into your pussy and stroking your clit. You feared that people would see what you were thinking, so you started avoiding Carl. Whenever you ran into him, you would turn bright red, turn around, and walk away in the other direction. One day you were supposed to stand guard on the wall with Carl, but that was completely impossible, you couldn't talk to him or look him in the eye - he would read your dirty mind, you were sure of it. So you sought out Rick and asked him to let you switch shifts with someone.

Rick frowned at the schedule where the guard duties were listed. It was clear he wasn't thrilled with your request. "Now I'm going to have to reschedule everything," he groused. "Why do you want to change shifts?"

"Um, I, I... well, I don't like getting up early," you lied.

"The shift starts at 10 AM," Rick wondered. "But well, I guess you can switch with Glenn; you'll be on at 6 PM," he stated, scribbling on the list. Neither Rick, nor you had noticed Carl standing next to the doorway to the living room.

After leaving Rick's house, you went to the stables, you wanted to look at a newborn foal. The foal was lying in the straw, sleeping, protected by its mother. "Cute, isn't it?" a voice sounded behind you.

The foal woke up and roused itself. You flinched. "Carl!" you exclaimed. "Are you stalking me?" you then accused him.

"To be honest, yes," he answered hesitantly. "I overheard that you didn't want to be on guard duty with me. Besides, you're avoiding me like I have the plague. Have I done something to you?" he asked, half hurt, half provocative.

You glanced past him to his left hand, with which he was petting the foal. "No," you murmured. The sight made you all tingly.

"Then what is it?" demanded Carl angrily.

"Well...I can't talk about it," you evaded, your face glowing. You tried to walk past Carl out of the stable, but he held you by the shoulder.

"Wait," he said, amused. "Are you...are you maybe crushing on me?" He grinned.

"I don't know," you squirmed, licking your lips. Carl was suddenly very close to you, his breath warmly brushing your neck, then all of a sudden his lips lay softly on yours. You let yourself go into the kiss, of course you did. When you stopped the kiss a moment later, you whispered, "I can't stop thinking about your fingers."

Carl raised an eyebrow - the one, visible one. "My fingers?"

"Yes, they...they're extraordinary, beautiful, and I'd like you to...um..."

Carl chuckled. "Now I understand," he said, throwing you a cocky smile before kissing you again, letting his right hand wander to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and fumbling forward into your panties. You went to your knees whimpering as he stroked you between your legs, wetting his fingers. You sank to the floor together, and you impatiently pushed your pants and panties down to your knees to give Carl free access. "You're completely wet for me," he noted with fascination.

"Carl, finger me, please," you moaned breathlessly, raising your hips with a yelp as Carl obeyed, sliding his index and middle finger into your willing pussy and gently moving them back and forth with a smooth rhythm. "Oh, Carl, yes, please," you moaned, totally wanting and at his mercy. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, craving more and more of him. He bent down and kissed you passionately as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. You clung to Carl's shoulders as he pushed you over the edge and the world exploded around you in stars and rainbow colors. "Carl!!!" you panted, clawing at him. One of the horses shied away at your outcry.

Breathing heavily, you relaxed as Carl slowly pulled his fingers out of you. They were all slippery from your juices. Your heart raced. Carl pressed himself against you longingly. "You could do something for me now," he pleaded, and you could see the bulge in his jeans. He rubbed over it meaningfully.

"Jerk yourself off," you suggested. "I want to see that."

Carl grinned suggestively. "Someday, maybe, but right now I want you to jerk me off. It's only fair, don't you think?" he pouted.

He wasn't wrong, though. "All right," you agreed. You still had a little time before you had to show up for your work at the doctor's office. Eagerly, Carl opened his belt and his jeans and pulled out his fully erected dick, and you noted that it was really big and just as pretty as Carl's hands, and inhaled sharply. However, it turned out that Carl was so aroused from your previous activities that he cum all over your hand just as soon as you touched him.

"Oh," he commented lamely. "Sorry, baby."

You had to snicker. "I think we should do this more often."

--

Tags: @loveforcarl @tessasweet @knochentrocken0808 @taylormarieee

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes imagines #carl fanfiction #carl grimes smut

[river13245]

We are here for you

Navigation / SPN Masterlist

Dean x Reader x Castiel

The sun was starting to set, it was at the perfect height to be directly into your eyes as you drove. You were reaching to pull the sun visor down so it would block at least some of the glare as your phone began to ring.

There were only a select few people who called you. Other people texted because they know you don't like talking on the phone unless it was an emergency. So once the visor was down you picked up your phone to see it was Castiel.

When you answer you put it on speaker and place your phone on your lap as you continued to drive. "Hey angel" the nickname you had for him rolled off your tongue easily and you knew that there would be a soft smile on his face. "hi y/n"

He wasn't one for nicknames really and that was okay. However that wasn't the thing that had you nervous is was the fact that after he had spoke your name a sigh escaped him. "Castiel what's wrong?" he never called you if there was something wrong. He would just appear so the fact that he hasn't yet really has you worried.

"its Dean" his words were forced out as if he was becoming frustrated with something. You knew that Dean wasn't doing to well with the passing of his mom, and the whole Jack situation.

That's actually why you were out running around trying to find any way to get his mom back but also to find any trace of Jack. There hadn't been and you knew they were not going to be happy with how there was no progress being made. "What's going on with him. Is he okay?"

Rustling was heard and a incoherent grumble was heard before you heard Cas telling someone to stay out the fridge. A few moments later Cas spoke into the phone again. "I cant help him this time. He needs you, we need you to come back to the bunker. He's drunk and no one can get him to calm down"

As you rest your head against the seat you sigh. You weren't angry or anything you just had to figure out how you would approach Dean to get him to calm down. "alright ill be there as soon as I can. I love you"

Before he hung up a soft "we love you too" was heard before the beeping sound. Tossing your phone to the passenger seat you pressed on the gas. You were known for always being a safe driver usually but on cases and when people needed you, all caution was thrown to the wind.

When you pull up the bunker you park beside baby and walk inside. The sight inside breaks your heart, Dean is standing with what looks like to be his fourth beer in his hand as he argues with Sam and Cas both. Cas is trying to be gentle with him but you can tell they had just got done arguing because of the tension through the room.

Sam is the first to notice you and he gives you a look that's like "save me". You point to tell him that its okay to leave and so he does but not before kissing the top of your head in a friendly way.

Now it leaves the three of you in the room. You walk up beside Castiel and look at Dean. "Dean can you please put the bottle down?" your voice was soft not wanting to come off as demanding or anything to tip him off but you should have known that wasn't going to work. Instead he lashes out. "of course you come as backup. I'm fine its my fourth beer I don't need you here. Neither does Cas"

The words he spoke were intended to hurt you and it works. He doesn't usually say hurtful things like that towards you its usually your own insecurities and other people that do. But you choose to not feel it at the moment instead you look at him and tell Cas that he can leave. He places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it letting you know that whatever Dean says isn't true before leaving.

Dean is taking another drink of his beer and you take it from his hands and toss it in the trash. This earns a incoherent mumble of words and you just shake your head. "come on dean you stink of sweat, dirt and alcohol. Lets get you cleaned up we could both use a shower"

As you spoke you were running your hand up and down his arm gently and it seemed to calm him down as he leaned into you. "never seemed to bother you before" This earns him a light slap on his arm as you begin to walk the both of you to the shower.

Closing the door you see him taking off his clothes and then you go over and start the water making sure its a nice temperature for you both. Then you take off your clothes and hold his hands as you walk under the water.

Making sure that he was the one under the water first you run your hands through his hair and then hold his face in your hands. "Dean Love." He looks down at you but doesn't respond "Me and Castiel love you. and so does your brother. Hell there are a lot of people who love you. You aren't alone in this. I promise"

He pulls you into a kiss and its sloppy but you both keep it short because tonight is not the night. "alright now clean yourself up. Ill wash your hair"

When you grab the shampoo he begins to wash off his body. You watch as the dirt washes off him and goes down the drain and then you begin to wash his hair. This results to him resting his head against your chest. Its the reason you choose to wash his hair at times like this.

Your hands run through his hair and scratch gently at his scalp. The whole time you do this he is resting against you. Only pulling away to rinse his hair out and then you do your own routine before the both of you get out and into your pajamas.

Dean had only put on a pair of sweatpants while you put on sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt that was Castiel's. Dean was the first in bed and you got in beside him. When you both get comfortable you grab the remote and turn on scooby doo. This causes Dean to laugh a bit and he watches it.

You knew that Dean would be apologizing tomorrow for how he acted because its something he has been working on is apologizing for when he says or does things that are hurtful to people he loves. So tonight you push it to the side.

Hours later Castiel comes back to the bunker and sees the both of you asleep. He had been out looking for anything that would help us all so it was nice to see the two people he loves most asleep without any worries.

He walks over to the bed and covers the both of you up and kisses you and deans forehead. When he does this he uses some of his power to enter your dreams so he could make sure they were good ones before he walks off after saying "I love you both"

#polyamory #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #castiel x male reader #castiel x reader #castiel x dean #dean x castiel #dean x castiel x reader #new blog #supernatural #angst #fluff #river13245 #sam winchester

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Facetime

Masterlist

Summary: You and Dean facetime whenever he goes on a hunt, but things go south when he and Sam are miles away

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader 

Rating: R for language, violence

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, blood, violence, torture, hostage situation, implied nudity, injured reader, mind control, starts off fluffy but gets real dark real quick, reader is a fan of Chris Evans

Author’s Note: This is loosely based on a dream I had and I know this gif is Dean looking at a coffee maker, but if you squint the coffee maker looks like a laptop :) Also, I don’t usually use capital letters (intentionally, but for no particular reason) but I thought I’d see how my writing looks with capital letters.

gif source

“Dean I don’t think your mic’s working,” You furrowed your brows in frustration, trying to tell him you couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

“Yeah it was off, that makes sense,” He laughed lightly. You smiled, happy to hear his voice and see his face. Sam and Dean had been on this hunt for nearly four days at this point and you missed your boyfriend so much it was driving you crazy. 

You weren’t much of a hunter; you preferred to keep a safe distance and help with research, instead of picking up a machete and chopping up vampires. Dean knew you preferred to stay home and he was happy with you being out of the line of fire. He’d hate himself if he let you get hurt on a hunt, you were his everything.

It was hard, though. You lived in the bunker but you still didn’t spend as much time with Dean as you would’ve liked to. You wanted to be with him each night instead of falling asleep to either his music playing on vinyl or his voice over the phone if you were lucky enough to be in the same time zone. Most of the time you’d go days without hearing his voice. 

That was until Sam had the brilliant (but blatantly obvious, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t come up with it) idea of you and Dean facetiming while doing research for the case; as opposed to just texting each other important details. 

“So, what’re you hunting?” You asked. Your laptop was set up next to your phone which is what you were calling Dean from. You were seated in the library and eager to help however you could. 

“Sam’s thinking a god,” Dean sighed. “He’s out getting the food.”

“And you’re doing the research?” You laughed. 

“Well, I wanted to talk with you, and see that beautiful face of yours,” He smirked. “Sammy can do the actual research when he gets back, should be soon.”

“I miss you,” You smiled, he did the same.

“I miss you, too, hun. How’re you doing? Cas is gonna get back home tomorrow morning so you won’t have the whole bunker to yourself for much longer.”

“It’s really lonely,” You laughed wryly. “As an introvert, I swore never to say this, but I kinda wish more people lived here.”

“Yeah, I know it’s... it’s not ideal,” He gave you a sympathetic look. “Y’know there’s a library in town you could go to if you don’t wanna be alone.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head over there. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight, I’m really starting to go stir-crazy!” 

“Wanna stay on the phone while you drive over there?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Of course!” You emphasized. “I’m so happy I finally get to talk to you for the first time today! I’m just gonna change into something more presentable real quick.”

“It’s 2pm on a Tuesday and you’re going to a public library; who are you thinking you might run into?” He teased lightly.

“Hey if I go not looking my best and Chris Evans just happens to be there I would kick myself!” You replied honestly. “Gimme a second.” You put the phone on your dresser and faced it away from where you would be changing.

“Y/n, I’ve seen you naked, you can change in front of me!” He sighed dramatically when you didn’t respond right away. “C’mon, I miss you!”

“You only get to see these boobs when you hurry up, finish that case, and get your ass back here!” You called out to him as you got dressed.

“That’s no fair,” Dean whined. You finished getting dressed pretty quickly and grabbed your phone off your dresser and your purse off your desk before you left the room.

“Okay I’m heading out now,” You smiled at your phone as you walked up to the entrance of the bunker.

“Which car are you taking?” Dean asked. 

“Mine; it’s parked outside, not in the garage. why?”

“Just wanna know you’ll be safe getting there. A lot of the cars in the garage tend to break down at random,” He replied. You hopped into your car and set your phone on the stand that was attached to the front window. 

“Ah, shit,” You winced suddenly, your hands now pressed against your temples. “De, something’s wrong-” You croaked out. Your head felt like it was going to explode as your vision began getting blurry. 

“Y/n? Y/n, talk to me! What’s happening,” Dean exclaimed, his voice ripe with panic. 

The pounding in your head suddenly stopped as your vision went black and you passed out. 

Your head was throbbing as you woke up. You tried bringing your hands to your head but then realized you were tied to a chair. You then also realized you were wearing nothing but a bra and your boy-short panties. 

“What the fuck,” You mumbled to yourself. You tightened your fists and pulled against the restraints.

“It’s no use, y/n,” A voice behind you announced. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. who knows, you might even die here.”

**

“Y/n? Y/n!” Dean exclaimed. He was completely panicking as he watched your car door open and someone pull you out of the driver’s seat. 

“Dean Winchester!” The man picked up the cell phone and showed Dean his face; complete with hideous black eyes. “Looks like I now have the thing you care about most,” The demon laughed. 

“You son of a bitch,” Dean screamed. “You hurt her and I swear I will-”

“What? What’re you gonna do Dean? Kill me? You don’t know where I’m taking her and I’m dumping this meat suit before you get the chance to figure out this guy’s name. No, you can’t do anything, Dean. You are completely and utterly powerless. I have the bitch you seem to love so much, and there’s nothing you can do.”

“What do you want?” Dean seethed through gritted teeth. He slammed his fist on the table next to him. “What do you fucking want?”

“To watch you suffer,” The demon smirked then hung up.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean screamed. He grabbed the chair he was sitting on and threw it to the side in frustration.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam exclaimed. He had walked in right as the chair hit the wall. “I take a little too long getting the burgers and you start breaking the furniture?” He laughed lightly. 

“Y/n,” Dean shouted. “A demon has y/n!”

“What the fuck? How? When?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Just now, we- we were facetiming and she was gonna go to the library- and she- it just took her Sam- I-” Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked at his younger brother with desperation. 

**

“What do you want from me?” You asked the demon. He was now kneeling in front of you as he toyed with your hair. 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” He smiled wickedly. “You see, you are very important to Dean Winchester; I hate Dean Winchester. I want him to suffer. Having you locked up in here is the easiest way to torture him. He’ll find you eventually, I’m sure, but you’ll be so broken and beaten you won’t ever be the same. You’ll never be his cheerful y/n again. You’ll be worn down by what I'm going to do to you, you’re not going to want to be anywhere near him. And that will break his heart beyond repair - that will be the ultimate torture. I'll be known as the demon who destroyed Dean Winchester’s will to live.”

“You’re wrong,” You whispered. “Dean cares about me, sure, but losing me isn’t gonna break him, you idiot! He'll be over me within a few months then he will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb.”

“Maybe,” The demon shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see how long it takes him to get over you.” He pulled a knife out of his back pocket and plunged it into your thigh. You screamed in pain as tears streamed down your face. You looked down at the blood now dripping down your thigh then looked back up.

“D-Dean?” You whispered. “Wh-What’s going on?” Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on the man in front of you. “Dean! Dean, you found me?”

“Yeah, hun, it’s me,” The demon held your face with his hands. 

“H-Help me out of here,” You quivered, confused as to why Dean was so calm. He shook his head, smiled, then gripped the knife and twisted it. “Y-You’re not Dean!”

“Of course I am, y/n! And I'm so happy I finally get to show you how I really feel about you,” He smiled. He took the knife out and pressed it against your left breast. “You know I never really cared much about you, you’re just an easy lay.”

“You’re not Dean,” You closed your eyes tightly. “Dean loves me.”

“Awe, that’s really sweet y/n, but of course I'm Dean! And I wouldn’t say I love you, more like I love having my own pathetic fucktoy handy at all times,” He patted your cheek. “I mean, let’s face it; all we do when I'm not hunting is have sex! Why else would I want you living with me?”

“That’s- That’s not true!” You whispered, more to yourself than to the monster posing as the love of your life. “We have movie nights, we bake pie, we have dinner together, we-”

“Do we?” He touched your temple with two fingers. “Dean never did any of that with you.”

“Y-You never did any of that with me,” You mumbled.

**

“Days, Sam! It's been days!” Dean shouted. “Y/n is still with that fucking demon!”

“I know it’s been days, Dean but you need to sleep. Just four hours; recharge and come back with a clear head.”

“Do you think y/n is able to sleep? Or have a second of peace or quiet! She is being tortured by a demon, because of me!”

“Cas will be back with some information in a few hours, until then you should sleep,” Sam suggested. “Look, we’ve done all we can for right now, you’re no use to y/n if you’re too tired to function!”

Before Dean could protest, his phone rang and he answered; “Hello?”

“Dean Winchester,” the voice replied.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“I’m the demon that’s got y/n,” He replied. Dean could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I swear to God I will find you and-”

“And you’ll kill me, blah, blah, blah; you’ve said that before. I'm just calling to let you know you can have her back. I'll text you the address.” The demon hung up.

“What-” Dean brought his phone down, confused. “That was the demon, he said he’s texting me the address where y/n is,” He told Sam.

“What? That makes no sense?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t lying,” Dean held up his phone and showed Sam the text. 

“It’s definitely a trap, right?”

“Doesn't matter, let's go; we can meet Cas there.”

“Dean, that's at least a six-hour drive; let me drive so you can sleep,” Sam offered. Dean was ridiculously tired and he knew he wasn’t at his full strength so he decided to take a nap on the way.

**

“Y/n! Oh my god!” Dean exclaimed when he walked into the dark warehouse and saw you tied to the chair.

“Sam?” You breathed out. “Cas?” You smiled slightly, barely lifting your head. 

“Hey- Hey hun,” Dean crouched down and held your face.

“What, now you’re all sweet?” You scoffed, then looked past him and up at his younger brother. “Sam, please help me! Dean, he- he did this to me.”

“What? No! No, no, I would never! I love you," Dean stuttered, not taking his eyes off you. He untied your right hand and you punched the side of his head, which caused him to fall to the side. 

“Cas! Please! You guys have to believe me!”

“It's okay, you’re safe now,” Cas came up to you. He put two fingers on your forehead and healed you. “We’re gonna take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” You replied as the angel untied you. Sam looked around for your clothes and, surprisingly, found them off to the side and folded neatly. Cas helped you up as Sam handed you your jeans and shirt, and you happily put them on. Dean was standing up at this point, but he just stood there; silent tears falling as he looked at you. 

“Y/n- Hun, please- please tell me you know this wasn’t me!” He whispered, you looked over at him. “Please you- you know it was a demon!”

“Oh and where is this demon now, Dean?” You asked flatly, Dean stayed silent. “You know, I fucking trusted you!” Tears escaped your eyes and you brushed them away quickly. You continued, gritting your teeth in anger, “I hate you.” 

“Let’s get you home,” Sam interrupted, he knew Dean didn’t do this and he needed to figure out how to make you know too. You nodded and followed Castiel out the door, Sam followed you and, after a moment, Dean did too.

Cas opened the back door for you while Sam opened the passenger door. 

“Sam, can you drive?” You asked him quietly. “Please? I know you don’t believe me about Dean, but I don't trust him; please don’t let him drive.”

“Sweetheart, I-” Dean started, overhearing what you said to Sam.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” You hissed and pointed your finger at him with anger. You turned back to Sam, “If it was up to me, I’d say cuff him; but at least don’t let him be the fucking driver!” With that, you hopped in the back seat, Cas doing the same after you.

Dean took the demon cuffs out of his back pocket and handed them to Sam before holding his hands behind him.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed.

“I want her to feel safe,” Dean replied. “Well, as safe as she can feel while I'm still in proximity.” Sam nodded and cuffed his older brother before they both got into the car; Sam in the driver’s seat.

**

“You really don’t believe me?” You practically screamed. You were all back at the bunker and Sam was refusing to lock Dean up in the dungeon.

“It's not that I don’t believe you-”

“Then do something!”

“Sam, Dean, can I talk to you?” Cas asked and the three went around the corner, you huffed to yourself and sat at the war room table. “There’s something really wrong with y/n.”

“Yeah, Cas, we can tell,” Dean replied.

“No, I mean, really wrong! When I healed her at the warehouse, I could feel something pushing back.”

“What do you think that means?” Sam asked.

“I think we need to call Crowley. He’s had a soft spot for y/n for a while now, maybe he’ll know what’s wrong.”

“Yeah, great! Let another demon get their hands on her,” Dean scoffed sarcastically.

“Crowley isn’t just ‘another demon’ Dean; he might be able to reverse whatever’s happened here!” Castiel retorted. 

“Fine, fine we’ll give him a call,” Dean sighed. The three of them walked back around the corner but you weren’t sitting at the table anymore. “Y/n?” Dean called out, beginning to panic.

Sam rushed outside while Dean checked your bedroom and Cas checked the garage.

“Y/n, what’re you doing?” Dean asked. You frantically threw clothes into your duffle and didn’t answer him. “Sweet- Uh, sorry- y/n please,” Dean stumbled over his words.

“I’m leaving Dean, and I never want to see you again!” You exclaimed and tried to brush past him. He gently gripped your forearm to pull you back and your demeanor changed. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” You whispered; tears welled in your eyes as Dean’s widened. He let go of you and put his hands up, backing away.

“No, no I- I’m not going to hurt you, y/n, I wanna help you,” He said calmly. “We all do. Please, don’t go.”

“Why are you being so sweet now, I don’t understand,” You let the tears fall. “Is it just cause of Sam and Cas? Is that it? You’d like to take out your knife and get back to work but you don’t want your baby brother and your best friend to see you torturing me?”

“I- I don’t know what to say, y/n,” He replied, also letting tears fall. “I swear that was not me!”

“Right, right it was a demon,” You scoffed. “Seriously, Dean? The least you could do is own up to what you did, for fuck’s sake! But I guess I should’ve seen this coming, huh?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You only ever cared about my body, Dean! Was just a matter of time before you got bored and used what Alastair taught you!”

“What? Y/n we’ve known each other for ten years, we’ve only been dating the last two! We didn’t even sleep together the first four months because we wanted to take it slow; do you not remember any of this?”

“Does this actually work on people?” You laughed. “You fake a few tears, look at them with lost puppy eyes, and try to make them believe such ridiculous lies?”

“Y/n!” Castiel called out from behind you. He had checked the garage and when he didn’t see you there he decided to check the kitchen and then head over to your bedroom.

“Castiel, please get me out of here!” You hurried to his side. “Dean won’t let me leave!”

“No- I-” Dean tried to protest but then just shook his head in defeat, not wanting to make things worse.

“We have a working theory going about what happened,” Cas lied to you. “We think Dean may have been possessed before, and the demon that possessed him may still be looking for you. You should stay here in the bunker where it’s safe, okay?”

“Okay, Cas, I trust you,” You clung to his arm, still terrified of Dean. 

“Dean, why don’t you get Sam and meet me in the dungeon in a few minutes,” Cas asked him. “Y/n, you can stay in your room until we know more.”

**

It took Crowley a couple of days to figure out what the demon did but once he did, he called Dean and was summoned to the bunker.

“It’s a hex bag,” He said before his trademark, “Hello, boys.”

“A hex bag? Where?” Sam asked. “She’s changed clothes, we’re nowhere near the warehouse-”

“According to Frank-” 

“Frank? The demon’s name is Frank?” Dean scoffed.

“Yes,” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Frank said he carved it into her thigh.”

“Good Lord,” Sam muttered. 

“How do we get it out?” Dean asked Crowley. “We can’t just cut back into her!”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Crowley replied.

“No! She’s already terrified we can’t-”

“I can put her to sleep,” Castiel suggested. “She shouldn’t feel a thing.”

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Crowley walked out of the dungeon and over to your room.

“What’s he doing here?” You glared at Dean when the four men entered your bedroom. You had been seated on your couch reading when Crowley knocked and opened the door.

“Dean, maybe you should wait outside,” Sam told him quietly. Dean nodded slightly and backed out of the room.

**

“She’s asking for you,” Sam smiled a little, walking into the library to find Dean downing another glass of whiskey.

“Seriously!? She wants to see me?” He practically jumped out of the chair and then hurried to your room. He took a deep breath and opened your door.

You were at the edge of your bed with one knee tucked against you. When Dean entered, you looked at him with tear-stained eyes and let a quiet sob leave your lips. 

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered. “De, I’m so, so sorry!”

“No, no, no it’s- none of this is your fault,” He hurried to your side but hesitated to wrap his arms around you. “Can I… Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course,” You replied and wrapped your arms around him when he held you. “I love you so much, Dean, I’m so sorry I believed the demon.”

“It’s not your fault, it was a hex bag,” He kissed the crown of your head. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“I know, but I should’ve been able to snap out of it!” You protested. “I mean, these hands,” You took his left hand and held it, kissing his palm gently. “I love these hands, how could I have believed that they, that you hurt me?” You kissed his hand again then looked up at him. “I’m sorry, for what I said.”

“It’s okay,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m just glad you’re okay, that you’re back.” The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while before Dean asked you, “How are you feeling?”

“Physically? Fine. Emotionally? Fucking terrible,” You replied, squeezing Dean tighter. “I keep getting these like flashbacks about what the demon did, and in a lot of the memories the demon still looks like you.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, that sounds awful!”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “I'll be okay though, I’ve got you.”

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[scoobydoodean]

Hi! I just wanted to start off by saying that your analyses on the characters are awesome and they really helped further my understanding of the show, so keep up the good work! :D

I was wondering, if you don't mind answering, what did you think of about Dean giving permission for Gadreel/Ezekiel to possess Sam in season 9?

I'm still a bit on the fence about how to feel about it and I thought your particular brand of wisdom might be able to help me out.

Dean had just a few pieces of information at the hospital in 9.01.

Dean knew that Sam had every intention of surviving The Trials in 8.14 and in fact Sam promised he would survive them and show Dean to the light at the end of the tunnel, because Dean was suicidal: "I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. [...] I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it."

Dean observed that Sam became suicidal over the course of The Trials and that this culminated in Sam forsaking his promise and his desire to live and falling into a tailspin where he wanted to die to make himself "pure". Disturbing dialogue from 8.21: "Knights of the Round Table. Had all of King Arthur's knights, and they were all on the quest for the Holy Grail. And I remember looking at this picture of Sir Galahad, and, and, and he was kneeling, and— and light streaming over his face, and— I remember... thinking, uh, I could never go on a quest like that. Because I'm not clean. I mean, I w— I was just a little kid. You think... maybe I knew? I mean, deep down, that— I had... demon blood in me, and about the evil of it, and that I'm— wasn't pure? [...] It doesn't matter anymore. Because these trials... they're purifying me."

Dean pleaded with Sam not to kill himself in 8.23, and Sam agreed, asking, "How do I stop?"

These are the details Dean has prior to Sam falling into a coma. He believes that his brother wanted to commit suicide, but that he did change his mind and decide he wants to live.

Two other notable details:

First, Gadreel earns Dean's trust quickly by risking his ass to help Dean, and then on the phone (after being given the fake name "Ezekiel") Cas, relieved and pleased, vouches for Ezekiel. So Dean has no reason to suspect anything nefarious (and in fact, at this point, Gadreel doesn't have particularly nefarious intentions besides staying in hiding away from other angels).

Second, Dean is not the one who pleads with Sam to live in the dream sequence, getting him to say "Yes". It can't be Dean, because 1) "Dean's" face morphs into Gadreels which is clearly intended to indicate to us that this wasn't Dean speaking 2) If Gadreel was somehow projecting the real Dean into the conversation to give that speech, then Gadreel wouldn't be the one receiving the consent. It would truly be Dean receiving it and not just Gadreel pretending. Those words HAVE to come from Gadreel's mouth for the possession to work—not Dean's. We've seen angels morph into loved ones and mimic their voices perfectly several times.

With all that in mind:

After Gadreel pitches his plan to possess Sam, Dean immediately says it isn't his call to make—it's Sam's. It's after Gadreel shows him Sam falling back into the same suicidality from 8.23—wanting to die so that "no one else can get hurt because of me"—that Dean wavers. Still—at the end of the day, whether Sam agrees to live or not was never Dean's choice, and this is something I often see people get mixed up about. Dean doesn't get to choose whether Sam dies or not. It is still Sam who chooses to live. Sam does this by saying "Yes" to Gadreel. This could not have happened if Sam hadn't changed his mind about living. He doesn't know he's going to be possessed, but he has once again beaten back his suicidality and chosen to live. Sam still had hope in a good future.

Sam chose to live. He did not know he was going to be possessed. That's the issue. However, Dean did not intend to keep Gadreel's possession from Sam after it happened. Dean and Gadreel have this conversation upon leaving the hospital:

DEAN So? How's it look in there? EZEKIEL IN SAM’S BODY Not good. There is much work to be done. DEAN Yeah, but he's gonna wake up, right? EZEKIEL IN SAM’S BODY He will. DEAN So, what he does – what, is he gonna feel you inside, triaging his spleen? EZEKIEL IN SAM’S BODY He will not feel me, no. There is no reason for Sam to know I'm in here at all. DEAN You're joking. No, this is – this is too big. EZEKIEL IN SAM’S BODY And what will he do if you do tell him he is possessed by an angel? DEAN Well, he'll have to understand.

This conversation suggests that Dean's initial thought process was "We perform supernatural life-saving surgery". He just wanted to get Sam to a point where he'd wake up and they could talk. Like any situation with a relative in a coma, that person in a coma can't consent to surgery. The next of kin is the one who gives consent, because their loved one can't. They can only consent to a procedure if awake to do so. So Dean doesn't stop Gadreel from performing life saving surgery, but his intial belief and intent is that they'll put all of this back in Sam's hands when he's awake.

Up to this point, I don't actually have a problem with what Dean's done based on his knowledge. It's here at the end of the episode, where Gadreel convinces Dean to depart from his intial intent and stall, that in my opinion, the "Dean doing something wrong" part starts:

EZEKIEL IN SAM’S BODY And if he does not? Without his acceptance, Sam can eject me at any time, especially with me so weak. And if Sam does eject me, he will die. DEAN Then we keep it a secret for now. Or until Sam's well enough that he doesn't need an angelic pacemaker or I find a way to tell him. I - I... As for him being in a hospital, I'll have to figure something out. EZEKIEL IN SAM’S BODY I can erase it all, if you like. He will not remember any of this.

Dean doesn't feel good about it, but he agrees to keep quiet, because he's scared Sam will yet again make a suicidal play. Dean is riddled with guilt in the following episodes over lying to Sam, and in 9.08, Dean tries to tell Sam he's possessed, but Gadreel takes over Sam's body and stops him. Dean comes clean again in 9.09, only for Gadreel to stop Sam from receiving the news again.

So. Dean's mistake is lying to Sam. He shouldn't have lied to him. Point blank. At the same time, had Dean pushed the issue, would Gadreel have been willing to be expelled? Would he ever have allowed Dean to tell Sam the truth, from the moment he was... installed? Or was Dean screwed from the beginning, and was the idea that he got to choose any of this—any bit of it—really just... an illusion to keep Dean compliant with the possession that was keeping Gadreel under the radar?

Think about it for a second. Why did Gadreel ask Dean's permission? He didn't ever need Dean's permission to do any of this. He didn't need Dean's permission to trick Sam. He didn't need Dean's permission to remove Sam's memory of the hospital. He didn't need Dean's permission to keep the fact that he was possessing Sam a secret. He could have done every bit of this without asking. The problem was, Dean probably would have caught onto the disappearing angel act, and Gadreel would have had to get violent, and for the first part of season 9, Gadreel doesn't want to get violent! He just wants a place to lay low, and sees an opportunity to prove he's a good angel who helps humans—not just the angel who let the serpent into the garden. Getting Dean's "consent" might ease his own conscience about nonconsensual possession or be a way to keep Dean compliant or both, but ultimately, these are more questions worth weighing imo, because Supernatural loves to toy with the illusion that Dean has power in situations where he doesn’t, and in this case, he doesn't... actually have any power at all... does he?

That said, when it comes right down to it, Dean still did something wrong by helping keep the secret—by not trying to tell Sam the truth immediately because he was scared. And well. Okay. So what?

This is a show with characters who have good intentions but still make mistakes. As Cas will say about this later, "You were stupid for the right reasons". We get some great insights into the pitfalls that lead Dean down this path, and it's interesting to watch that happen and then later, see a broken mirror as Sam endeavors to prove through season 10 what Dean is willing to do can't touch what Sam is ultimately willing to do to keep Dean around.

Here's the thing—I don't believe for a single second that Sam wouldn't do the exact same thing in 9.01 had their positions been reversed. Sam and Dean have a conversation along these lines at the end of 9.13 "The Purge":

DEAN All right, you want to be honest? If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing. SAM No, Dean. I wouldn't. Same circumstances...I wouldn't. 

This genuinely wounds Dean and gets brought up a few times, but then in 9.23 when it's brought up for the last time in another context:

DEAN What happened with you being okay with this? SAM I lied.

Sam never gets the chance to do the exact same thing to Dean, but he has already gone behind Dean's back to try and save his life before. He's used Dean's death to justify doing things Dean begged him not to do on his behalf. He kept the case they were actually on under wraps as he inched toward a plan to turn himself and Dean into Frankenstein's monsters in 3.15 (and really the only reason it didn't work is that Sam got captured by Doc Benton and Dean had to save his ass, and then Sam morosely helped dig the grave). Sam went behind Dean's back directly against his wishes to threaten a crossroad's demon in 3.05. In season 10, he violates Dean's consent by removing the Mark of Cain from Dean's arm using the Book of the Damned, which not only requires an overt human sacrifice of Oskar and gets a woman named Suzie killed in "The Werther Project" because Sam refuses to heed her warnings, but also results in the apocalypse... and all of this was something Dean asked Sam not to do, and Sam did every bit of it to get his brother back, and while standing in the wreckage in 11.01, echoed Dean's line from 9.13, saying, "I would do it again". Dean signed the supernatural possession next-of-kin consent form, and the fallout was Kevin and Sam. Sam violated Dean's consent and tens of thousands of people died and he said he'd do it again while they died around him.

#also i got excited but xoxo 😘 #season 9 #9.01 #gadreel #the flannel business #3.15 #3.05 #11.01 #9.13 #8.14 #9.08 #9.09 #mail

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Take Care

Castiel & child/teen reader (platonic obviously)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you and Castiel protect each other over the years (reader is like 9-13, it’s up for interpretation)

The angels had felt threatened by your very existence ever since they’d found out about you. But not Castiel.

Your origin was a mystery, but you had abilities that scared most angels, and any hunter. You could sense angelic presence and exorcize angels from their human vessels with just one touch. To most of heaven’s forces, that made you a threat.

But not to Cas. Cas protected you from the other angels, and for lack of a better term he was your friend.

So when Cas became a human and was on the run from heaven, you wanted to do all you could to help him. However, he insisted on going it alone, but he let you keep tabs on him as long as you didn’t tell the Winchesters.

You kept your word, and you were just going to pay a visit to your favorite ex-angel when you sensed angels nearby. The feeling was strong; too strong. There had to be a lot of angels nearby, which couldn’t be good for Cas, aka heaven’s most wanted. You rushed to the abandoned bus that Castiel was sleeping in, only to find your friend surrounded by angels.

You didn’t even speak. The moment you stepped onto the bus, you laid your hands on any Angel that dared venture near you, exorcizing them instantly.

The fight was over almost before it started, and you were left with a lot of confused empty vessels and Cas staring at you in surprise.

“I…” faced with so many people, you suddenly weren’t sure what to do. “Take care, Cas.”

And you took off running.

…

Your powers were failing you. Or maybe you were failing your powers.

Either way, you were currently locked away in Metatron’s basement with no hope of escape. He had your hands locked in special cuffs that surrounded your whole hand, so that it was impossible to make skin-on-skin contact, the only way for you to exorcise angels.

You’d tried every trick you knew to get out, but to no avail. Finally, you went to your last resort.

“Cas,” you began. “I…I didn’t want to call for you, because this is…this is gonna be really dangerous. But I need your help. Now that you’ve got your grace back, I figure maybe you’ve got a shot at helping me. Metatron’s got me at his…I don’t know, his headquarters I guess, in the basement.” You took a deep breath. “Cas,” your voice cracked. “Cas I need yo—“

“Do you really think your little angel friend can save you?” Metatron laughed as he sauntered down the stairs. “You’re gonna stay down here as long as I want you here. And there’s nothing that Castiel can—“

Metatron didn’t get to finish his sentence. He was blasted across the room, and the moment his head hit the wall you saw Castiel entering the room, trench coat waving behind him.

“Y/N.” Cas’s attention was on you instantly. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m ok,” you assured him.

Within moments, Cas had the cuffs off you and was leading you up the stairs.

“Thanks,” you breathed when the two of you were far from Metatron.

“I guess this makes us even.” Cas grinned. “So don’t mention it.”

…

“Are you staying around this time?” You asked as Castiel dropped you off at the bunker.

“You’ll see me around,” Cas promised.

You took one look at the bunker door before turning around and wrapping your arms around Cas.

“Visit soon,” you urged.

Cas smiled as he reciprocated your hug.

“Take care, little one.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

#the winchesters #castiel & reader #castiel x reader #spn castiel #castiel novak #castiel #supernatural #supernatural castiel

[yoonzinuhh]

RUN TO YOU

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : reader x seungcheol,reader x mingyu (NOT A POLY !)

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : office au. boss x worker,co workers,fluff,smut,comfort,hurt,angst.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : SMUT minors dni !! reader has fem descriptions. drunk sex if you squint but are sobered up and is done with consent.

𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 : this is purely fiction. i have no intentions in sexualising any artist. just for entertainment purposes. let me know if you want to be tagged !

series list , episode 2

episode1.

party lights blinding your eyes,stuffy,almost no room for anyone else to enter. if you weren’t so drunk right now you probably would be crying to leave this moment. but this was nice,the party was nice and what’s more nicer is you finally got into your dream company and here you are partying with your few friends who probably went out to fuck with someone while you were grinding onto some man and in your defence,you’re little drunk.

you feel a deep and hot breath against your neck,probably the man you were grinding your ass on for like the past 10 minutes.

you turn back putting your hands over his neck only to earn a smirk.

“if you weren’t going to stop this moment i probably would’ve fucked you right here” god he’s hot.

“well what’s stopping you” is all you had to say and he is already rushing you into one of the rooms upstairs,kissing you even before the door was locked.

pushing you against the wall,his kisses travels from your lips to your jaw to your neck.,all that while his knees were moving between your hot core. you were literally humping on his knee.

“you sure you’re sober for this ? you want this..right?” he whispered in between the kisses.

“y-yeah just be gentle..i’m fine” you moan out when he sucks behind your ear.

taking you to the bed without breaking the kiss the tall man hovers over you while his hands are at the hem of your pink satin dress that tightly hugged your body.

“beautiful” he smiled and started sucking off your nipples slowly. his other hand finds your chest,slowly massaging it making your bud hard. going down and down he stops at your core,slowly opening up your legs. looking up making sure you were okay he just pecks onto your underwear only to snatch it away the very moment.

your panties which is probably in some dark corner,all wet and stinky while he’s eating your out like no tomorrow. sucking,licking,kissing,tapping. GOD you’re going crazy over a man you have no idea about.

sticking two fingers inside of you,slowly moving making sure you loosen up he increases the speed. keeping his fingers go in and out,little faster and then deeper. you feel your stomach heat up,almost flipping you out.

“f-fuck im c-“ he just stops the contact. you can’t help but whine at the loss of touch only for him to put his tip on your entrance.

“tell me if you want to stop” he enters you. so slow as if the time stopped. the feeling of being full when you’re so sensitive from earlier. eyes shut so tightly,this felt like heaven. the pain was soon replaced with pleasure as he focused on moving while massaging your hips.

“f-faster” you moan,not holding back any of it. you just want a good fuck before starting your 9-5 from tomorrow. and this guy fucks you so good,better than any of your exes,hitting your spot and making you a screaming mess.

“shit im cumming” and you let it out. so does he,pulling out he rolls over next to you.

it feels dirty. sweaty from all the partying and fucking. smell of alcohol and cum that’s literally dripping out of you. all of that when you’re sleeping naked with a stranger who probably has killed people or has a wife. so dirty,so ugly.

———————————————————————

you woke up to the sound of your alarm ringing right into your brain. the stranger who you slept with behind you,strangling your waist so tightly,checking the time

8:10 FUCK. FUCK YOU’RE SO FUCKED UP.

you just stand up too quick not caring about the man behind you.

“you’re leaving already?” his deep hoarse voice startling you but you can’t care more because you might actually lose your job the very right moment.

picking up your clothes and phone,putting them over you messily you practically run out of this place not caring at all.

tags : @thepoopdokyeomtouched @leah-rose03 @wonwootakemyheart @fragmentof-indifference

#seventeen #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fanfic #mingyu #mingyu x reader #scoups #scoups x reader #scoups fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol x reader #svt seungcheol #svt series #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #svt smut

[sarawritestories]

I'd love to know more about Unwavering Presence!

@hellodarling1357 a sneak peek of this Cassian series awaits!

Unwavering Presence is a slow-burn Cassian x Archeron Sister (Reader) romance that will have many parts if I have anything to say about it. Y/N is Feyre's twin who ends up going to the Night Court and falling in love with our General of the Night Court. This will follow their love story from her perspective and how she finds his presence as something unwavering even in the darkest of times and it is going to get angsty.

And here is a Sneak peek that will take place in the middle of our story(and will probably be changed by the time we get there) but shows how I want to put a spotlight on his Loyalty and love for the people he is close with:

The sunrise was shimmering over Velaris another day had gone by. Sitting in the armchair looking out through the window I was beginning to lose track of the days. This body was new to me and all the heightened senses that came with it. Now that I was able to use them I could only muster up enough energy to get out of bed and on this chair. At least my room had a beautiful view of the city proof that things could still be beautiful.

There was a crash followed by yelling outside of my door that caused my whole body to tense and my eyes to squeeze shut. The shouts were growing louder and a whimper escaped my lips as I covered my now-pointed ears. The door slams open and I open my eyes in time to see Cassian shutting the door and putting a chair under the knob preventing, Feyre and Rhys, whose voices were now carrying down the hall, from coming in.

Cassian slowly took a step into the room his face pained, "Princess, I'm not going to hurt you." I slowly lowered my hands and wrapped them around my knees as he took another step. I averted his gaze held worry and looked out over the city hoping the tears would swallow back down. His voice was closer, "They wouldn't let me see you. They said you had asked them to keep me away."

A tear escaped as he took the seat next to mine. I turned my head so he wouldn't see the tears falling. I closed my eyes but his presence wrapped me in a warm embrace that made me want to fall apart. The pounding on the other side of the door subsided but I knew they were on the other side one word and they would throw Cassian out with no hesitation.

"Y/N please look at me." His plea came out as a choked sob. I lifted my head turning to face him and I took a sharp intake of breath as tears streamed down his face. His Hazel eyes met mine and he straightened in his seat and tried to compose himself and gave you a small smile reaching out his hand not touching me but to let me know I could take it if I wanted. "There's my brave girl."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the sentiment, I cleared my throat, "Hi."

Cassian lit up at the sound of my voice, "We don't have to talk about what happened. I just wanted to see you." I looked at his outstretched hand, "They wouldn't even let me ask about you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I absentmindedly slid my hand into his and I could feel him still for a moment before his fingers gripped my hand, as though I could disappear at any moment. "I don't think I could talk if I wanted to, Cas," I whisper as my gaze moves from his face back to the city.

Cassian hummed in response and I could feel his eyes lingering. His finger tapped against the top of my hand. He did it once more, then twice, three times until I looked at our intertwined hands. "You don't need to say anything, Sweetheart, not until you are ready." My eyes met his and he gave me another warm smile that caused the butterflies to stir again. "But don't push me away. We can do a daily check-in no words necessary." He holds up our hands and he taps once on the top of my hand, "One tap is 'How are you doing?'" He taps twice on the top of my hand, "Two taps is 'I'm not okay I need you close,'" He taps 3 times, "Three will be 'I'm not okay but you can go'," he taps 4 times, "Four will be 'I'm okay but I would like you near'". He taps my hand 5 times, "Five taps will mean 'I'm okay you can go'," He taps my hand 6 times.

Tears threaten to escape as I whisper, "What does six taps mean?"

He grips my chin and has me look up at him. "Six means, 'I'm here. I'm with you. You are not alone.'"

Tears freefall down my cheeks as he swipes them with the pad of his thumb, as I look back out of the city gripping his hand in mine.

We sit in silence for a few moments before I adjust my hand and tap his hand twice. I'm not okay, I need you close.

He taps my hand six times, I'm here. I'm with you. You are not alone.

#cassian acotar #cassian x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you

[onlyhereforthestories]

Want To Be Wanted (Slight Aitana x Reader) (Platonic Keira and Lucy x Reader)

So this is a little close to home in terms of the dialog about mental health is something I once wrote to a friend when I really needed someone to understand me. It’s adapted a bit and changed but yeah. If anyone is struggling my messages are always open you are not alone and I promise the hard times don’t last they really are just a blip.

You just never felt like anyone got you, or like they wanted to be around you for who you were no matter what mood or mental state you were in. Because unfortunately you had some parts of you and some reactions to things that weren’t always the best and they tended to scare people away. You knew they were annoying and bad but they were still part of you and you were trying to lessen them.

So you decided a change of scenery would do you good, that it would help and that’s how you found yourself walking into the training facilities of Barcelona women's football team. Your loneliness growing up had paid off for something when it came to your job and it was the best part of your life in your minds eye.

The dynamic among the group took you a while to understand, all the women got on really well and they acted different to what you were used to. The constant touching and loud voices often had you shying away from engaging something that the two British women of the team noticed.

Keira was the first to approach you after a training session about 2 weeks after you joined. She merely started a small conversation about how you had been settling into the city and it was all you needed to not feel quite so alone. Not that the other women weren’t trying to engage you, they really were, but this was the first quiet solo conversation someone had really tried to have and it was good for you.

The next day lucy did the same thing and by the time you were 6 months into your time on the team you had become pretty much their little sister. The two women probably knew you the best out of anyone in the world and that scared you to no end. But they had already dealt with and been through some of your freak out episodes as you liked to call them and they were still here. They were still taking you to training and having you over for dinner and shielding you for the ruckus of the younger girls at training.

What you didn’t expect was to start falling for someone that wasn’t them. What you didn’t see coming was the warmth you felt when Aitana involved you in a small conversation with Mariona or the happiness that spread through you when she chose you to be her partner in a warm up drill.

It was fast and scary and within a month of properly speaking you had nicknames and spoke everyday outside of training. You laughed and joked and playfully argued and it’s was nice. You enjoyed the time you had with her and the time you weren’t speaking you looked forward to the next.

Then you had one of your freak out episodes on her. You got too clingy and too comfy and said things that she didn’t agree with or like about yourself. You were an idiot you knew it but they happened and you thought she liked you enough to not let it be an ending factor.

You were wrong. She stopped talking to you for about a week. Sent maybe three short messages and it hurt a lot. It hurt because once again you weren’t enough.

You tried to be a big girl and speak to her about it, tried to explain it all and help her see that okay yes it’s a bad part of you but you as a whole are trying and good enough that that bad part doesn’t define you.

You thought she got it. Though she wanted to be friends you thought maybe that was to just see with some time if you were the You she liked but again you thought wrong. The nicknames went, the time spent talking went and most of all the feeling of being wanted went.

That’s how you found yourself here in the arms of the two women who never leave you crying over a women you hardly had a chance to get to know.

“I just don’t understand Luce why call me those cute names. Why joke and giggle and try start to get to know me if you don’t want to be a part of my life. I know I fucked up I know that but I told her I was working on it. I told her.”

Lucy held you tighter, she didn’t know what to say here. She didn’t understand how Aitana could have left that easily but maybe that’s because she knew all of you.

“I don’t know why it’s happened y/n but I do know you are wonderful despite what you think. Those bad days are never a reason to leave or not get close to people. They are a little part of the amazing person that is you.” You sobbed a little harder. You had never really spoken about why they happen to anyone before not even them. They just knew they happened, witnessed a few themselves and become a major part of the comfort you needed now when they did.

“I need to tell you a little bit about why these happen. I think it will be good for me to finally tell someone and I think you both deserve to know. I need you to wait until I’ve said I’m done before you speak because I think this might take some time to all come out.”

Both women nodded and pulled you so you were sandwiched in between them, their way of telling you you were not alone.

Taking a deep breath you started “When I was 5 I realised my parents were never really around, I would get dropped off at before school clubs and get dropped home by a friends parent every evening after evening school clubs. I think I could count on on hand the amount of times I got a hug from my mum and if I’m honest it didn’t bother me until I got old enough to be told that wasn’t normal. Now I look back and curse my parents for even bringing me into the world when they didn’t want me.”

You took a deep breath and started to fiddle with Keira’s fingers before you continued “By the time I was 12 I was already travelling all over for football games and tournaments so I didn’t have much time to think about myself or my feelings. I just had to make it. Football was the only thing I loved and I didn’t want to lose that. So I worked. I got my head down and I played and trained and it worked for my parents because they had to think about me less. And by 15 it worked for me because I didn’t have to feel so unloved by parents that didn’t want me.”

You asked for some water that Lucy got up and got for you. Giving yourself a second to think through what you wanted to say a little bit more. You thanked the woman before taking a gulp and continuing “Friends came and went. They would talk to me for a little while involve me in things and then just stop. My first real friendship that ended the same way was when I was 16. A girl I met at the under 18s. She was great, she spent time with me, made me feel wanted and cared about and never judged me. Well until a freak out. I had got upset that she didn’t speak to me for a few days and pulled away from her and so she left. I know I was at fault but it still hurt that she didn’t fight. After that I tried harder to not let people go, well the ones I really wanted to stay. I tried to explain myself a little bit and tried to hide the bad part but it always snuck out. So pretty much everyone left.”

You could feel the wetness on your cheeks but you needed to finish before you let yourself cry properly.

“Depression creeps up on you quietly. At the very beginning you struggle with little things but usually choose to ignore them. I try to think of it like a headache, it’s temporary and it’ll pass, it’s just another bad day but it’s not. You get stuck in this state of mind. You get used to putting on a social mask and you continue to live amongst other people because that’s what you have to do, it’s what you want to do. It’s what others do so... However the problem does not just go away. It always shows back up. You struggle to put that play on everyday and it’s starts to cost you more and more. That is why you fall even deeper and that is when you start to slowly back away from friends and family, sometimes even completely shutting them out even if it is totally not what you want to do and even if it hurts you more. It always hurts you more. Which normally leads to those people around you not wanting to speak to you or backing off themselves because they either think it’s best or they give up hope a little. Backing off is the hardest and the worst thing to do because it causes isolation. It causes the people who are there for you all the time to leave. And most of the time it’s confusing, angering but mostly upsetting.”

You looked at the picture of Lucy and Keira holding the euros from the summer before and it made you smile a small smile. Seeing your people happy always made your heart happy.

“The little things that used to bring you joy are struggling to do just that which hurts you more because they shouldn’t be. They really shouldn’t be. Even the simplest tasks become painful. That is why you lack motivation, why would you keep on trying if very little makes you happy anymore anyway? What’s the point in it? And why aren’t you happy? There is so much to be happy about and people that are still there yet you just can’t seem to let that feeling happen. All of this makes you feel worse and you get caught up in a vicious cycle. This is when you find yourself living in slow motion. Days become indistinguishable, just white noise, just heaviness filling your mind and spilling over your body. You feel as though you’ll never be happy again. You’re ashamed for everything that you’ve done and everything you haven’t... You’re even ashamed of who you are.”

You felt Lucy shift next to you but held up your hand to signify that you weren’t done and that you needed her to just let you say it before commenting or acting.

“There is a part of you that wants to make things right there’s always a part of you that wants to be better, a sudden positive upsurge makes you want to go out and meet people, but it’s usually very short lived, because you think it won’t work anyway. Things that make your friends excited leave you indifferent and you become steadily aware of the huge gap that lies with you. Another failure is not an option, so in the end you choose to be alone where you can’t hurt anyone and you can let people get on with their lives. The low self esteem and lack of purpose becomes unbearable and you just don’t know why you haven’t given up yet. I don’t know why I haven’t given up yet. They say life is more than just living so what do you do when you feel like all you are doing is living? How do you not give up?” With that you let the tears fall and the sobs rack your body.

You had let it all out, every small thought in your mind you had just spoken about and it felt both good and scary. If Lucy and Keira left you wouldn’t cope you knew that but you didn’t think they would. You trusted them more than you would ever be able to explain.

The two women held you for a long time, they let you let it all out before lucy spoke up. “The people you want in your life are the ones that stay no matter what. Because you are amazing and caring and kind. They will see past the blips and hiccups and stay for you. You will always be enough don’t ever let anyone make you think otherwise.”

Keira spoke next “And you don’t give up because then you let all those people win, and you don’t give up because you have so much life left to live. So tonight we cry and tomorrow we get back up and we hold our head high. Never forget we will always be here through the good and bad days no matter what.”

You didn’t know what was going to happen next, you didn’t know if Aitana was just trying to be nice or leasing you on or not ready. You didn’t know if she even really wanted to be friends but in that moment you realized that it didn’t matter. As Lucy said the people who deserve to be in your world, the people that you want in your life stay. They stay no matter what because you are you. And to the right people you will always be enough.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine

[kazuiislazy]

“All For You.”

Pairing: Michael x reader Summary: Reader gets injured, Michael heals you and kills for you (we love to see it guys, we love to see it)

You were on a hunt with Dean. Castiel had “angel business” and poor Sammy had to stay back in the bunker to ‘babysit’ two archangels. You felt bad but the older brother kept insisting that you were ‘not mature enough to take care of them.’ He was right. You are and always will be horrible at taking care of someone, let alone archangels. 

– A few hours ago – 

“Why not (Y/N)? I don’t want to watch over them anymore.” Sam was done with trying to deal with two of the most stubborn beings that he has ever met. You gave an awkward smile and a thumbs-up. “Sam, if you think (Y/N) can be left alone with Mr. High And Mighty and Mr. Pay Attention To Me Or Else, there’s something wrong with you.” His brother explained. 

– After the hunt – 

You ended up getting horribly hurt. It was supposed to be a werewolf. Not a whole pack of them. Dean had gotten injured too but it wasn’t as bad as yours. Normally, he would berate you for ‘bleeding all over Baby’ but you were losing too much blood. If you didn’t make it back in time, or if Castiel didn’t get his ass down and heal you in time– you would be dead. 

Dean drove as fast as he could. Calling Cas didn’t work, so you were left to writhe and groan in the backseat– clutching the wound. “Cas.. where are you?” You heard Dean mutter. If Dean called Cas and he didn’t answer, you knew you was fucked. 

They reached back in time, but no one could possibly stop the blood. You needed to be healed and fast. “Sam! Sammy!” Dean yelled, carrying you. You were starting to lose consciousness– you fought it as best as you could. When Sam opened the door, he was shocked. “Shit. Shit.” He panicked, he moved out of the way. 

You closed your eyes. “(Y/N). (Y/N)! Stay with me!” A voice pulled you out of it. Your eyes shot open. Sam was basically ripping his hair out and Dean was able to lay you down on a bed. Michael and Lucifer were alarmed by the screaming and came to check it out. 

Both archangels froze. They stared at you – well, at your scratched opened stomach more like it, but you get it. “Move.” The older archangel commanded. Dean and Sam stared at him dumbfounded. “I said.. move.” Michael ‘gently’ shoved them out of the way. He put two fingers on your forehead. You gasped for air. The wound was gone. 

“What happened?” Michael asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears. Dean and Lucifer looked like they wanted to say something but decided not to ruin the moment. “Pack of werewolves..” You replied. “Are they still alive?” You nodded. “Do you have names?” Dean helped you answer. The archangel was gone in a second. 

“So.. are we gonna talk about that or..?” Dean started. “Talk about what?” You were confused. “The whole Michael thing…? Healing you, and all that.” You weren’t sure how to answer. To be honest, you didn’t know either. You gave Dean a shrug. 

Two seconds (or more) later, Michael was back– covered in blood. Dean and Sam took a double take. “You killed those werewolves didn’t you?” Sam asked. Michael wiped his face with his sleeve. “Yes. I did.” He stated. Dean opened and closed his mouth. “Why would you help us?” The older hunter questioned. Michael’s eyes shifted to you. 

“I’m not helping you.” He squinted at Dean. “For (Y/N) then?” The archangel shrugged but the answer was quite obvious– yes, for you. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” With that, he walked out the door, leaving four confused people to stare at each other in silence. “Never once in my life have I seen my older brother kill for someone.” 

#supernatural x reader #supernatural fic #dean winchester #castiel #spn fic #spn x reader #spn x you #michael spn #michael spn x reader #michael supernatural #michael supernatural x reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

Another request idea! I was listening to What a Time To Be Alive by Fall Out Boy and the line "But, baby, please, I just need someone to hold me Even though you don't even know me" struck me as a particularly good steddie prompt. Maybe some hurt/comfort? Thanks for even reading this request!

Full disclosure: I never got really into FOB. I mean obviously love their classics. Anything that was on the radio I liked it just fine. But I did have to go listen and look up the lyrics for this one because just that line had me going feral with an idea. I've read a few fics where Steve and Eddie meet at a party, which honestly makes a lot of sense canonically. Eddie has the goods, parties need the goods, Steve threw a lot of parties. This is a slightly different take on that premise. It's a LOT of hurt, and a LOT of comfort. Steve is kind of pitiful actually, and I love that for him. Eddie's super into it too. Also tagged it light dom/sub because of nonsexual type things that happen while Eddie is comforting Steve. To me, since they didn't have a discussion about it and aren't in a relationship, it could just be seen as one dude kind of being a little pushy when taking care of another dude, but that tag doesn't exist so here we are. I hope this gets posted in time for you to cry in the school pick up line! - Mickala ❤️

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Steve should not have come to this party. Tommy always threw a huge one at the end of the year, right when his parents left for their anniversary vacation, and Steve always came.

But this year was the first year he hadn’t been invited by Tommy.

He really hadn’t been invited at all, but it was just common knowledge that it was happening here and now, so here he was.

No more crown, hanging onto his sanity by a thread, and his only friends were barely 13 years old.

Being a wallflower was a new thing for him.

He watches from the corner of the kitchen, sees the people he used to call friends getting drunk, getting high, dancing. It doesn’t seem fun anymore.

He’s glad that’s not him anymore.

So why does he feel like crying?

He holds it in, takes small sips of his beer, focusing on the bitter taste. He didn’t even like beer. Just drank it to maintain the King of Keg Stands crown

As the night drags on, it sinks in that he just doesn’t fit in this world anymore. It wasn’t made for him, he wasn’t made for it.

He didn’t really fit anywhere.

He choked back a sob, rushing out the back door of the house and down to the pond that Tommy and his dad fished out of.

No one ever went out here, too worried about bugs or snakes, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care right now.

His legs gave out when he reached the dock, his body sinking down to the wood below him as he felt tears fall down his face.

It wasn’t a panic attack, he’d had plenty of those, made it through plenty of them on his own. This was just sadness.

He was alone out here, not even the noise of the party to keep him company.

He was alone everywhere, really.

Sure, he had the kids. But they were kids. They hung out with him because he protected them, not because they thought of him as a friend.

His parents hadn’t been home in nearly six months, hadn’t called in two, didn’t even seem interested in the fact that he was graduating high school.

Nancy didn’t give him the time of day, nor should she after everything that happened.

The friends he grew up with, the friends he thought would be there for him, ended up being terrible.

“Shit, Harrington? Is that you?”

Steve sniffed.

He couldn’t be found like this, his reputation would suffer even more, somehow.

He wiped his eyes quickly, hoping that it was dark enough the other person wouldn’t see the movement.

“Uh, yep,” Steve managed to say after a deep breath, surprised that his voice didn’t sound as wrecked as he felt.

He turned around and saw Eddie Munson walking up the dock.

Everyone knew Eddie only got invited to these parties because he sold weed. Eddie himself only came to the parties because he knew he could make a killing just for showing up for an hour or two.

The only times he’d ever spoken to Eddie were to make sure he showed up for his own parties, offering him a tip of $20 just to come well-stocked.

He always came, never accepted the tip, and usually left a rolled joint in Steve’s room at the end of the party.

He didn’t think he did that for everyone, but he was too scared that it would stop if he asked.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Just felt like fishing,” Steve responded, slapping his hand against his face as soon as he said it.

“With your bare hands in the dark?” Eddie snorted. “I will give you free weed for a year if you can manage to do that right now.”

Steve cracked a small smile.

“Make it free weed for life and I may consider hopping in and giving it a try.”

Eddie’s laugh filled the night, loud and full of life. Something Steve needed to hear.

But Eddie sobered quickly, watching as Steve looked down at his lap.

“Needed a break from the party?”

“Guess so.”

“It didn’t seem like you were doing much in there.”

Steve just shrugged, not sure how to explain without crying again.

But apparently Eddie wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

“Heard about you and Nancy, man. Sorry it didn’t work out,” Eddie said, nudging his shoulder with his hand.

He was really close, close enough for Steve to feel the warmth radiating from his body. It was that awkward time between spring and summer, and the night was warm, but it still felt nice.

He hadn’t had someone so close to him on purpose in a long time. Maybe if he scooted an inch to the left, he would brush against Eddie’s hand just right and-

“Shit, you’re crying again,” Eddie said.

His hand was suddenly on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve shivered at the contact.

He closed his eyes and realized that, yes, he was crying again.

Dammit.

Warm, strong arms were wrapping around him, pulling him tight against an equally warm, strong chest.

He let out a sob, his chest hurting with the effort it took to hold in as much noise as he could.

A hand was in his hair, fingers carefully running through the length of it.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Let it out. I got ya,” Eddie was saying quietly against the top of his head, his breath sending shivers down Steve’s spine.

Steve couldn’t catch his breath. The way Eddie was holding him, talking to him, caring for him, it was more than he’d ever really had.

He knew he’d never see or talk to Eddie again, so why not embarrass himself?

“Match my breaths, Stevie,” Eddie calmly tried getting him to calm down.

And he could if he tried, he knew he could. He wasn’t having a panic attack, just a breakdown he’d been meaning to have for a year now. He needed to get it out.

“Look at me.”

Eddie’s tone was different now, deeper and difficult to ignore.

Steve looked at him, eyes wide, wet with tears still falling. His nose was running, he could feel it starting to drip, but Eddie was holding him tightly, and he couldn’t move his hands to try to wipe his face at all.

“Good boy.”

Steve shivered again. He blamed it on a chill in the air, but he knew that they both knew there was no chill in the air.

The air was humid, a rainstorm expected the next day keeping the environment around them stale and still.

“You can cry as much as you want, but you have to breathe. Understand?”

Steve nodded, taking in a shaky breath.

“Better,” Eddie smiled, his face still showing concern, but relaxing when Steve started taking more frequent, slow breaths.

He felt less tears gather and fall the more breaths he took, his eyes never leaving Eddie’s smiling face.

“Doing better, sweetheart?”

Steve nodded, but he still felt the lingering loneliness, knew that when Eddie left him, he’d be back to square one.

“What’s got you so upset, huh?”

Steve shrugged, letting his head rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Did someone hurt you?”

What a loaded fucking question that was.

Yeah, a lot of people hurt Steve, for as long as he could remember, emotionally and physically.

But he wasn’t about to spill his guts to Eddie, even if he was being nice. He didn’t know the guy enough to start talking about his abandonment issues.

Eddie’s hands were running along his back, soft and then harder, soft again, then settled in his lower back.

His hands were big, bigger than Steve’s even, and his fingers were long. His splayed out hands covered all of Steve’s lower back area.

He felt covered, protected.

He didn’t want to get up.

“Steve, if someone hurt you, you need to tell someone. It doesn’t have to be me, but maybe your parents or the counselor.”

“Can’t tell my parents if they’re the ones who hurt me,” Steve spoke before realizing what he was saying.

It hit him so suddenly, he started to pull away, a small whimper leaving his body without his consent.

But Eddie wasn’t letting him go, tightened his arms around him and shushed him gently.

“Hey, stay with me. We don’t have to talk about it, let me just hold you a bit more.”

Steve gave in. He couldn’t understand why, or how, or what was running through his mind. He just knew the way Eddie was holding him made him feel whole for maybe the first time in his life.

He chased that feeling, sinking further into Eddie’s chest and letting the man rock him back and forth slowly.

Thinking went out the window as one of Eddie’s hands slowly brushed through his hair, then a finger slowly traced along his hairline, down his jaw, over his lips.

The whimper he let out now had nothing to do with being upset.

“Okay, sweetheart?”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

Eddie’s fingers froze, but only for a moment. Steve knew he’d never outright bullied Eddie, had probably been nicer to him than most of his friends had, but it didn’t change the fact that he’d never been particularly kind either.

His finger moved back along his lip, then up along his nose, then to his forehead. It was like he was trying to commit everything to memory, soaking every moment of this up because he didn’t think he’d have it again.

And maybe he wouldn’t.

But Steve wanted this to happen again when he wasn’t having a mental breakdown in Tommy’s backyard.

“Because sometimes there’s a lot more to people than what everyone sees and I think I see you a lot better than most people do. I don’t need you to explain anything to know you’re hurting and you don’t deserve to be.”

He said it like it was simple, like it made all the sense in the world for him to comfort him.

Maybe to him it did.

“But I was an asshole.”

“You were. But it doesn’t take a genius to see you aren’t anymore.”

“How do you know that?”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, his fingers moving back to Steve’s hair and tugging gently so he had to pull away from his chest and look at him.

“The old Steve would have never even given me a chance to help. He also wouldn’t have been standing by the wall for a party like this or escaping to a secluded area to cry. The old Steve wouldn’t be looking at me like you are right now.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like you want me to kiss you,” Eddie smiled.

He said it easily. Like saying it wouldn’t have made most other guys punch him immediately.

“And if I do?”

“You’ll have to ask nicely. You may be a changed man, but I do deserve some manners.”

Steve smiled at him, his charm replacing any lingering sadness.

“Oh? So if I were to lean in and kiss you that would be rude? I need to say please?”

Even in the dark, Steve could see Eddie blushing.

“I’m not stopping you,” Eddie finally said, voice strong despite the redness of his cheeks.

“So if I said please, you’d kiss me?” Steve asked as he inched closer, his breath hot against Eddie’s lips.

“If you said please, I’d do anything you wanted,” Eddie gasped out.

“Please kiss me,” Steve breathed out, his lips gently grazing against Eddie’s.

Eddie pushed forward the final centimeters, his lips warm and wet against Steve’s.

They both groaned into the kiss, Eddie’s hands cupping Steve’s jaw to keep him there.

Steve moved so he could straddle Eddie’s lap, his hands resting on Eddie’s shoulders as he finally gained the higher ground.

He realized quickly he didn’t want it, not with Eddie.

He let out a whimper and Eddie pulled away for a moment, but only to smirk and nudge him back.

“This dock isn’t gonna collapse under us, is it?”

“Don’t know,” Steve supplied as he settled on his back, Eddie hovering over him.

“Guess we’ll have to find out.”

Eddie’s lips were back on his, demanding, but slow.

Minutes passed, maybe hours.

Steve felt safer than he ever had, here under Eddie, with every possibility that someone could find them eventually and not giving a shit about it.

Eddie would keep him safe.

He didn’t know Eddie well, but he knew that much.

No one who helped a known asshole when he was having a breakdown at a party would just leave him to be beat up for kissing a dude.

The way Eddie touched him, rough hands fluttering over any place his skin was visible, lips and tongue making new patterns against his own, it felt like Steve was being cherished, appreciated, loved.

If this was all he ever got, if this is all he ever felt and tasted of Eddie, he thinks it would be enough.

Or it wouldn’t and he would never feel like this again.

“You’re thinking too loud, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbled against his lips.

“Just feels good,” Steve added, placing another kiss against his lips.

He could feel the shift, the way Eddie was slowing down, pulling away inch by inch.

It wasn’t enough.

Steve whimpered.

“Sh. It’s okay, Stevie. We’re just pausing for now,” Eddie moved back, kissing his forehead before there was too much space between them.

He heard voices in the distance, a reminder that the party was still happening and possibly wrapping up.

“Did you drive here?”

“I walked.”

“You walked?”

Eddie sounded upset.

“I’m only a street away. Not a long walk.”

“I’ll drive you back to yours. Walking this late after so many idiots have been drinking and plan to drive is dangerous.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a damsel in distress or whatever they’re called.”

“Ah, but you are. Crying alone outside in the dark, waiting for a big, strong man to come save you? My chariot awaits!” Eddie was helping him stand as he spoke, then bowed and gestured towards the road where his van must have been parked.

Steve couldn’t help the laugh he let out.

Yeah, maybe he was a damsel in distress. Maybe he would let Eddie rescue him.

Maybe he didn’t have to be so lonely, at least for tonight.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve is so lonely #this is pre-season 4 #hurt/comfort #ficlet #request

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 12

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Thank you everyone for your kind words on Part 11! 🥰 It really meant so much to me.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ just to be safe on this one. Angst, hurt/comfort, minor violence and tension, fluff with a tinge of spice.~

Part 12: “All in the Family”

You didn’t realize until the funeral just how well loved your grandfather had been.

So many of his friends, along with your grandmother’s, came up to you personally to express their condolences even before the church service began. Some were more heartfelt and broken up than that of your extended family members, many of whom hardly checked on him when he was alive, even before his cancer returned.

You had no mascara left by the time the service started. Yet it wasn’t until you had to get up and speak that you noticed something else when you stared out into the crowd.

Almost all of Dean’s friends (and now yours) had come to support you. Meg and Cas, Sam and Eileen, Benny and Andréa, Jo and Ellen…they all sat in the row behind him, even though very few of them had even met your grandfather in person.

“George was born in Lebanon, Kansas in the early ‘40s,” you began. “At the time, its population was about 600. Now, it’s less than 200…and that’s why he left, he told me. I didn’t want to be the last relic left standin’ with the tumbleweeds.”

That bit earned you some laughs. You paused, smiling slightly. With a shaking breath, you managed to continue.

Though it was hard for you to even look at Andréa. It was with a mixture of lingering resentment, tempered only by your guilt at the last words you’d levied at your best friend. A large part of you still felt justified, even today, to hold your grudge. Maybe you were wrong for it, but that was just how you felt.

And right now, you were shaking. You barely managed to get through the speech you wrote down on a notepad. After you were done, you couldn’t force yourself to pry your fingers off the podium. You glanced over at the closed casket behind you, to your right.

The pastor was standing to your left, waiting on you to go back to your seat so he could resume the service. You could sense him watching you, and distantly you heard him call your name. You couldn’t respond. Your voice was stuck in your throat.

Both anxious and panicked, you looked up at the sea of people watching you. Your gaze darted from face to face, until you landed on Dean. He was staring up at you in thinly veiled concern.

You okay? he mouthed.

You shook your head subtly. You had the undeniable conviction that if you let go of the podium, you would fall into a heap. You’d make an embarrassing scene at your grandpa’s funeral—something George definitely would’ve gotten a kick out of, if he was here.

My granddaughter, ladies and gentlemen. She can talk real well, but apparently she can’t walk at the same time.

Before you could choke out a laugh, followed shortly by hyperventilating, Dean got out of his seat and went up to the stage.

His supportive hand came to rest on the small of your back, while the other was offered to you palm facing up, next to where you had a death grip on the podium. You met his eyes, and he gave you a steady look. 

“You got this,” he said in a lowered voice.

You took his hand. He guided you off the stage and back into your seat. His lips pressed to your cheek.

“You did great,” Dean said quietly in your ear. “He’d be proud of you.”

You held onto his hand for the rest of the service.

Your big house was good for one thing: it made for a roomy reception.

Thank God you hadn’t had to cook yourself. Ellen had brought everything you might’ve wanted or needed by way of food and drinks, and true to Dean’s word, she’d given you what you suspected was a heavily discounted price. You’d tried to give her an extra tip earlier, but she’d folded the envelop and stuck it behind the neckline of your dress.

“We already covered payment, and I don’t wanna hear about it again,” Ellen said. “Now help me unwrap these chicken strips.”

You gave a tremulous smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Later, while Ellen went to grab the utensils and plates, you found yourself side by side with Jo in your kitchen. She gave you a smile that was both kind and reserved.

“I’m sorry about your grandpa,” she said, pausing on uncasing a container of sandwiches. Her blue eyes looked sincere.

“Thank you,” you replied. Your small smile was genuine as well. Until Andréa and Benny came in, with Dean right behind.

“Can we help?” Andréa asked. Her question was pointed, and filled with double meaning as her eyes met yours.

After a moment, you decided to swallow your pride for now. It was only a few more hours, and then your house would be empty.

“Can you get the dining table set up?” you asked.

Andréa nodded, but you stopped her before she could venture out into the dining room.

“Where’re you going?” you asked.

She shot you a frown. “To do what you asked.”

“Tablecloths are in the linen closet,” you reminded her. “You can grab the beige one.”

“Oh, I thought you would’ve taken that out already,” she said. As if you didn’t have a million other things to remember to do today.

“Well, it’s there,” you said, trying to be patient.

Andréa’s lips pursed. “In the linen closet? The one in the hall?”

You sighed as you finished unwrapping the second package of potato salad. Your patience thinned.

“No, the one in the attic,” you snipped dryly. You knew you were kind of being a bitch, but you could’ve grabbed the damn tablecloth yourself in this time.

Andréa agreed wordlessly and left the kitchen with clipped heels.

Meanwhile, Dean surveyed the scene between you and your friend, and sensed that something was off there. Even Jo shot him a subtle brow raise. Dean’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t want to say anything to you just yet. He knew you had a lot on your mind.

Instead, he glanced at Benny, who gave his friend a telling look.

Dean took in a breath. “Okay, uh. What else do you need, babe?”

You looked up at him, softening. “Maybe help Ellen bring in the drinks and stuff? She just went out to her car.”

Dean nodded. “Sure.”

He and Benny left the kitchen, giving Dean a chance to get the scoop.

“Something going on between Thelma and Louise? That was downright frosty back there,” he remarked.  

Benny scoffed. “What, you didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Dean asked.

“They had a big blow out a couple weeks ago.”

“Seriously? I didn’t hear a word about it.”

“Well that’s confoundin’,” Benny said, rubbing at his beard. “‘Cause I certainly did. In excruciating detail.”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smirk, but it soon faded.

After the lasts guests left the house, and the cleanup was done for the night, it got down to you and Dean alone in the house. Your family had never been a large one. Just you and your grandparents. And then, it had been just you and your grandfather for so long…

You now dreaded the moment that it would finally be just you.

At least tonight, you had your boyfriend. The two of you were watching a movie on the couch with another slice of leftover cake split between you. For once, you didn’t have the stomach for it. You let Dean polish off the plate.

He tossed it onto the coffee table and then paused the movie for a moment. He knew you weren’t really watching anyway. He rested a hand on your thigh, earning your attention.

“You given any more thought to a new car?” he asked. Yours had been totaled in the accident last month. Between Dean and Meg and Ellen bringing in food and supplies, you hadn’t needed to venture out of your house much ever since the accident.

Now, however, you heaved a sigh. You leveled him with honesty.

“Even with the insurance money left over, I’m not sure I can afford one after the funeral expenses.”

Dean inclined his head. “Okay, hear me out…Bobby owns a salvage yard.”

Your brows rose. “A junkyard?”

“Salvage yard,” he corrected. “He occasionally gets some good finds. I’ll comb through and look for something I can fix up for you.”

“Thanks, but…” You were grateful for him trying to help, but you still weren’t sure about adopting a “salvage yard” rescue car.

“You think I’m gonna put you in something that isn’t safe?” Dean asked, squeezing your thigh. The weight in his eyes sobered you.

“Okay, thanks. Let me know what you find,” you agreed. He nodded, but before he put the movie back on, he decided to broach something else.

“So, Benny filled me in on your little fight club moment with Andréa,” he said.

You sighed and leaned back on the couch, crossing your arms. “It wasn’t fight club.”

But an awkward silence fell between you and Dean as you didn’t offer anything more. He sighed and rubbed your knee with his thumb.

“You guys had a falling out?” he asked.

Your brows knitted together. “You want to hear about my girl drama?”

Ordinarily? Not really, Dean could admit. He liked “tea” as much as the next person, but he wasn’t angling for drama so much as for your trust. He was still new to this whole “boyfriend” thing. But still, this felt like something you could’ve come to him with.

“Look, if you’re upset…for any reason, you can tell me,” he said. “Thinking that’s my job as the boyfriend.”

…Well, shit, you thought, as guilt sunk heavy in your chest. How could you argue with that? 

You sighed and threw your hands up, before they landed on his. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Well,” you said, “I broke up with my best friend.”

Dean blinked at that. That would definitely make it awkward to double date.

“Aw, you didn’t break up, did you?”

When you merely gave him a look, he nodded. “All right. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

You sighed, but you explained it to him. You told him about your ongoing frustrations with your friend’s self-centeredness, and her lack of self-awareness at times. And while you took responsibility for the way you’d gone off on her that day on your porch, a large part of you still felt justified. Even if that made you the “bitch.”

“Well, look. If this is something that you can’t get past, then I get it. Sometimes you needa cut people out,” Dean said eventually. “But I’m thinking, right now, you need support. Maybe she didn’t give it when you needed her, but maybe she’s hurtin’ about this too… At least, that’s what Benny says.”

At first, you frowned. Your throat was tight with emotion, probably from today, but maybe because he was saying things you had already been thinking, deep down. You just didn’t want to admit it.

“You just want us to smooth things over so it won’t make it awkward for you with your friend,” you shot back.

Dean frowned, raising placating hands. “That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Come on. You know that’s not it.”

You wiped at your eyes, as they were starting to sting with unshed tears. You knew you weren’t being fair. He was just trying to help.

“Sorry,” you said, in a calmer voice. “…I’ll think about it, okay? Because you’re right. It’s not just her…I also just can’t shake this feeling. Like my world is getting smaller, and someday I’m going to be the only one left.”

And there it was. Yet another fear you didn’t want to admit. It was your worst fear: being alone.

You were hesitant to let your gaze leave your lap, to meet Dean’s. When you did, you were met by his softened look. He went for your hand again.

“Listen. You still have people,” he said. “Doesn’t matter if they’re related to you by blood or not. Real family’s gonna fight and bitch. But they’re also gonna be there, like your friend was today.”

You sighed heavily. Once again, you knew he was right. Despite the awfulness of your fight, Andréa had come to your grandfather’s funeral. She helped you set up for the reception, and she stayed until the last hour helping with the cleanup, along with Benny, Sam, Eileen, and the rest of Dean’s friends. They were now your friends too.

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily. “Dean, I love you. I love you so damn much.”

Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. A sigh expelled through his nose as he pressed a lingering kiss into your neck.

Warm. It felt warm in his chest. Almost overwhelming.

He’d been letting instinct guide him since the day he met you. So even though he hesitated to answer at first, he knew.

“I love you too,” he admitted. You held onto him that much tighter.

In hindsight, he’d already known. The day of the car accident, when you’d called him in tears and asked for his help, he realized just how much he’d do for you. The lengths he would go to make sure you were okay.

That you were safe, and his.

Nick Savage was an opportunist at heart.

Sure, he’d flunked out of college. Big fucking whoop.

Now he stood at the literal head of a multimillion-dollar company. He ruled in the very same office where he once sat on the floor as a ten-year-old kid, playing with his Batman action figure. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d watched his father hook new “clients” between glasses of scotch.

Now, Nick was the one making deals.

He stared out of the immense window of his office as he practiced his putting swing. These golf clubs had been a gift (to himself), and he thought he could’ve pursued it harder when he was younger, if he hadn’t lost focus in high school.

Maybe if his dad had attended even one of his games, he would’ve pursued sports past the varsity level. He had the talent. He could’ve gotten scouted…

Nick blew out a breath.   

“Well, this is what I like to see,” a droll voice said from the doorway. “A man hard at work.”

Nick’s head raised slowly. His brows twitched with surprise, but he soon covered it up with a hint of a dry smile.

“Welcome back, Dad,” Nick drawled. “Where were you? Venice? Greece?”

Daniel Savage was only slightly taller than his son. His build was broader, his blonde hair graying at the temples, but his blue eyes were sharp.

He dressed the part of a wealthy mogul: brown slacks, smart shoes, dark green turtleneck, with sleeves bunched up on his forearms, and a black Rolex on his wrist. Its watch face flashed in the afternoon light as he smoked a cigarette indoors. 

He stepped inside the office, letting Nick’s assistant close the door.

“The hottest fucking country known to man,” said Daniel. He cocked his head as he took in all the changes to his office. He noted the untidy bar area with a critical eye.

“It was fun,” he added. “Got a nice tan. But it was starting to chafe…you know why?”

Nick rolled his eyes and straightened from his putting. He leaned on his club.

“I have everything under control,” he said.

“You see, if that were true,” Daniel said. His slow but measured gait drew him closer to his son. He flicked a bit of ash from his cigarette onto Nick’s shoe. “I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”

“You didn’t have to come,” Nick said, subtly shaking off his shoe. He tried to maintain his nonchalance, but even now, his father’s gaze pinned his feet to the floor. “Everything’s fine. I’m handling it.”

Daniel paused for a moment. The cigarette was poised between two fingers while his arm crossed beneath his elbow. He stared at his son like he was trying to figure out where the hell he went wrong.

“You know how I know you’re lying?” Daniel asked.

He then smacked his son so hard up the head, it made Nick trip over his golf club. It skittered to the floor, and he had to catch himself on the nearby couch. His arm chafed against the brown leather.

“Fuck,” he yelped.

Daniel grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him around, until he was leaning against the couch arm.

“Because you’re single-handedly driving my empire into the ground with stupid. Fucking. Mistakes,” Daniel said. His tone was calm and even, but deep in his eyes was hellfire. “Alastair can only do so much to clean up after you.”

Nick swallowed. “I thought…using your brand would send a message. Remind people that our name still has power.”

By that, of course, he meant the various kills he’d ordered in the past six months. Each marked with a burn on their body—a symbol that even now was etched on his father’s ring: two snakes devouring one another.

“My name,” Daniel corrected. “The problem is, you use my mark, people think you’re me. And…well, you’re not, are you?”

Nick’s gaze cut away.

“And I was on sabbatical for a reason,” Daniel reminded. “I was kinda supposed to be dead.”

He took a long drag of his cigarette. When he blew out the smoke, the smell reminded Nick of nights he spent in the back rooms of old bars and clubs as a kid, watching his father play cards with old “friends of the family.”

But sometimes, family friends shot one another over money owed and disrespected protocols. 

“Never kill your accountant, you idiot,” Daniel said. He punctuated this by tapping Nick hard on the chest, with the same two fingers that held his smoke. “The devil’s in the details. In this case, the numbers.”

Daniel shook his head and blew more smoke. “The cops are onto you…one in particular, in fact, who’s a few steps shy of pinning your ass against the wall.” 

And one step away from mine, his tone implied. Hence why he’d returned from sabbatical, Nick realized, with a sinking feeling.

Okay, maybe he’d fucked up putting the hit on Jerry Stillwell, but the grubby little man had been demanding a bigger cut for his “continuing silence.”

Daniel sighed and raised a hand to rub between his eyes. He turned towards the desk and put out his cigarette on an ashtray. 

“Technology’s gotten too good, Nicholas. It’s not like it was 30 years ago. Nowadays, when you start a damn fire, the cops tend to look at that shit a bit harder.”

Nick straightened up onto his feet. His hands clenched into fists with the same fire that always drove him: the desire to be useful. To be seen by his father. To matter. 

“The cop, I know who he is. It’s the same one that tried to burn you last time,” Nick said. “John Winchester.”

Daniel scoffed, giving a short nod. “I know. The man’s fucking obsessed.”

Nick smiled. “I’ve already been working on a plan with Alastair—”

“You’ll do nothing,” Daniel snapped. He glanced at his son over his shoulder. “From now on, I’m back in the saddle. Nothing happens without my word. That includes this company.”

Nick frowned at that. A trill of anger made his nails bite into his palms.

“Savage & Co. is mine,” he argued. “You gave it to me.”

“That’s right. I’m correcting that bit of oversight.”

“We’ve been margining the best profits we’ve ever had,” Nick said. He mentally scoured your latest sales report in his brain. “Our projections—”

“Don’t mean shit,” Daniel said. He turned on his heel, with a hand in his pocket. “You do realize that this building? It’s just a pretty face. The real magic happens behind the curtain.”

He took note of the gold pen showcased on Nick’s desk. He picked it up…and threw it as hard as he could towards the bar. Nick flinched as glass bottles of fine liquor shattered.

“As we speak, there are deals closing all over the world,” Daniel continued. “Shipments being made back and forth through customs, all perfectly legal, as long as it has this company’s stamp…but that’s all about to unravel. And evidently, the only one who can keep the entire goddamn operation from crumbling into nothing, is ME!”

Nick tried not to flinch again at his father’s raised voice. That brought back memories too.

His gaze lowered. Meanwhile, Daniel took pains to inhale deeply, taking more even breaths. His hand brushed back his hair, as if smoothing down proverbial ruffled feathers.

“It’s all right, son,” he said with a slippery smile. “Azazel’s back in town.”

The next morning marked your official first day back in the office. After a little over a month of working from home, it felt odd to actually get dressed in the “workwear” side of your closet, complete with slacks, blouse, flat shoes, and a blazer.

No more making yourself a nice breakfast at home. No more Dean dropping in on his off days to hang out during the day, making you feel like you weren’t completely alone in your old, too-big house.

Back to the office, where you had to be completely and 100% on your game. Or else you wouldn’t be taken seriously by the would-be Jon Hamms of your office.

However, for every floor that Betsy the elevator climbed, the more your stomach churned. For once, it wasn’t just because you didn’t want to deal with Nick. You genuinely just didn’t want to be here.

“Buck up sweetheart,” as your grandfather would often say, when he watched you pause at the front door, taking a breath before you left for the day.

“Give it your very best, and no matter what crap happens afterwards, you can’t be disappointed in yourself.”

You remembered his encouragements. His smile. The way he subtly reminded you not to be so hard on yourself. The way he always knew how to make you laugh when you were at your most exhausted, or discouraged. The way he’d been your best friend and your father all at once.

You let out a shaky sigh, and you stopped the elevator three floors before the 22nd.

Before you fully realized what you were doing, you found yourself standing in the doorway of Andréa’s cubicle. She looked up at you a bit startled at first. Her brows drew together, but then, she seemed to soften.

You must’ve looked like hell.

“Hey…is it your first day back to the office?” she asked.

You nodded, because you weren’t sure what would come out if you spoke. Your hands were shaking, you also realized.

Andréa’s hazel eyes gentled. She stood and went over to you, resting a hand on your arm. After a beat, she just took your hand. You bit your lip, and your eyes watered, meeting hers.

“You’re not ready to be here, are you?” she asked.

After a beat, you made a negative sound and shook your head.

“Okay. Let’s get you back to your office so you can put in your PTO. I know you’ve got days racked up, since you’re a workaholic.”

You gave a tremulous smile. You let her lead you out of her cubicle and back towards the elevators.

“Nick is going to be an asshole about it,” you said weakly.

Andréa threw her head back and scoffed. “Nick can suck my dick twice on a Tuesday.”

She had you laughing through your tears. Then laughing until your stomach hurt.

She chortled, though she shushed you when you two walked out into the main hallway. A couple of guys from Legal shot you strange looks, but you ignored them. The lawyers at your company were starch-pressed assholes. 

“Wanna grab brunch?” Andréa asked, when the elevator opened up for you two. 

I’m sorry, her gaze said. You gave her a softer smile, accompanied by a nod.

Me too. You squeezed her hand. You two could talk the rest out later, but for now, you just wanted peace.

“Yeah, but for the love of God, not Geraldo’s,” you replied. “Last time, I think I got food poisoning just from the salad bar.”

Andréa laughed and pressed the floor for your office.

“Oh, hun. That’s what you get for eating rabbit food.” 

Bit by bit, you started to pick up the pieces of yourself.

You ended up at Dean’s apartment more often than not, as being at home made your skin crawl with loneliness most nights.

He and Sam always welcomed you. In fact, Dean got a kick out of trading off cooking dinner with you. And you had to admit, he made a damn good burger.

So you decided to do something you hadn’t done in months. You grabbed every pan the brothers had, flour, eggs, sugar, salt, and the two leftover apples that looked like they were just about to turn. You started peeling them.

Meanwhile, Dean watched you spark to life as you baked in his kitchen. He sat from his corner at the dining table, still able to see you with his iPad in hand. A slow smile grew across his face.

“Apple pie?” he asked.

You looked up at him. “Apple cake. I don’t think I can compete with your mom’s recipe.”

“Damn, I really wish we had it,” he said. “I’d trust you do to it right.”

You tossed him a smile back. “Well, that’s high praise. Maybe one day I’ll give it a try…I don’t think I’ve made pie in a while.”

Dean watched you mix ingredients, whipping up a storm with the wooden spoon in the bowl. You dearly missed your Kitchen Aid mixer.

“You guys really need a better arsenal up in here,” you muttered. “Feel like I’m a damn Quaker churning butter over here.”

Your boyfriend burst out laughing. You looked up at him, your lips tugging back into a smile. You hadn’t even meant to make him laugh, but at least someone thought you were funny.

Dean tilted his head thoughtfully while he scrolled through football highlights on the small screen.

“Well, if you’re going to be over here more often, guess I’m gonna have to step up my game,” he said, “hit up a Homegoods.”

Your smile started to fall, as something occurred to you. “Oh, you don’t have to do all that.”

Dean noticed the shift in you, with a frown of his own.

“What?” he asked. You glanced over at him.

“Nothing, just…” You sighed. Hands on your hips, you paused in your churning to turn towards him. “It’s okay that I’ve been hanging out here more often, right? I mean…you’ll tell me if you need space. Or if Sam—”

Dean held up a hand. “Hold up. I’m gonna stop you right there.”

He set down his iPad on the table and got up from his seat. He joined you in the kitchen, letting his hand skim the counter as he drew into your personal space. You looked up at him and unconsciously held your breath.

Dean stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Have I said or done something to make you think I don’t want you here? Has Sam?”

You frowned, but you shook your head. “No, baby. I just want to make sure I’m not…I don’t know, overstaying my welcome.”

His eyes met yours frankly. “You’re not.”

His hand fell from your face, just to bring you in close by your waist. He dropped a kiss onto your forehead.

“I’d just be worrying about you over there anyway. Alone in that big house,” he admitted.

You blew out a breath and leaned into him, resting your hands against his chest.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Grandpa told me to sell it, but…I don’t know if I can do that.”

Dean didn’t want to tell you what to do here. Personally, he thought you’d be better off selling it, both for practical reasons and for your own wellbeing. But he could also understand the sentimental side of it too.

“Well, you’ve got time to figure it out,” he said.

You nodded. A smile returned to your face, and you looked up at him.

“But first, cake,” you said.

Dean smiled down at you. He could certainly live with that.

He later moaned while sampling said confection. The apple and spices were the perfect ratio of sweetness to softness. The cake was buttery and delicious. And you really were talented, he thought.

“I’m telling you, babe, you really need to get back into this,” he said around another bite. “I mean professionally. Who needs corporate assholes when you’ve got cinnamon apples?”

Sitting across from him at the dining table, you giggled at the sight of this massive man child with his mouth full. Though he might’ve had a point…maybe it was time to revisit your “pipe dream.” Or at least the very thing you went to school for.

If only working at a bakery slinging pastry dough paid the same as your sales job.

“This was my grandma’s recipe,” you told him. “She’s the one who taught me how to cook, how to bake.”

Dean made a “top notch” symbol with his hand. “She sure knew what she was doin’.”

Your good humor soon faded, though you tried to hide it. You were tired of bringing down the people around you. You wanted to just be yourself again…but it seemed your heavy heart wouldn’t let you.

You realized you hadn’t succeeded when Dean’s hand fell over yours. You looked up and met his eyes. They asked a question without speaking as his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand.

“My family’s gone, Dean,” you said wearily, fighting the tears stinging in your eyes.

You still technically had extended family members, but most of them had always looked down at your grandparents, after seeing how they’d “failed” with your mother, then raised the daughter she’d had from a one-night stand she’d met in a bar. Those same people had pitied you when you were young, and barely looked you in the eyes at both of your grandparents’ funerals.

So in your mind, the only real family you had was gone.

But Dean squeezed your hand.

“No,” he said. “They’re right here. In these hands.”

Once again his thumb swept across the back of your knuckles. “You’ve still got what they gave you. Your mind, your spirit, and a lot of other things that make you, you…”

His lips pulled at a smile.

“And you’ve still got me,” he added.

Slowly, you smiled back. You leaned over and held his face in your hands, stroking his stubble covered cheeks.  

“That I do,” you said, and your voice only shook a little. “Thank God for that.”

When you kissed him, it felt as natural as taking a breath. You two had shared tender moments in the past few weeks, born of pain and comfort. But this time had a spark of hunger as your hand drifted down his neck.

Dean kissed you back, pleasantly surprised by the demand of your tongue. He hummed in question, though he gripped your arms to keep you close.

You answered him by licking further into his mouth, kissing him deeper. You broke for a moment, just to meet his eyes. The heat in his was familiar, prickling delightful sensations across your skin. Especially when he dragged you into his lap and continued to devour you against the kitchen table.

Your hands slipped under his black Henley and between the muscles in his back. Some of them twitched under your touch, and you let your nails drag slowly back down his spine.

Fuck, he shuddered. It felt nice (and arousing), but it reminded him of other times your nails had raked across his back.

He gripped your thighs tight, and he contemplated laying you out right here on the dining table, for all he cared. Matter of fact, he’d eat apple cake off your body, if you were down for it.

Unfortunately, that was when Sam finally unlocked the door and got home from work. He caught you and Dean breathless and pupils wide, your hair frizzy and your shirt halfway up over your bra. You hastily tugged it down, while he did the same for himself.

Meanwhile, Sam just rolled his eyes.

“You do have a room, you know,” he said wryly.

Dean cleared his throat and shot you a meaningful look. You nodded, slipping off his lap. But you grabbed his hand and pulled him up with you.

Dean shot his brother a wink over his shoulder. “When the room’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.”

Sam scoffed. “As if I’d give myself that kind of family trauma.”

“Leftovers are in the fridge, Sam!” you called, even though you were halfway down the hall with Dean on your heels.

Sam huffed as he heard your squeal, followed by a door slamming shut. And yet, he smiled. His brother might’ve become part of the “happily committed,” but some things just didn’t change.

Afterwards, you really felt nothing but peace.

Your head rested on your arms, across Dean’s lap. You were comfortable and naked and tangled in his sheets, while he soothed a hand through your wild hair. Ace Ventura played on the TV, and you enjoyed listening to him laugh.

You were too tired, physically and emotionally, to be as vocal. Your body shook in silent laughter, goaded on by his. And that was enough for Dean.

It was enough for you too.

AN: 🥹 I hope you enjoyed that bit of hurt/comfort at the end there, but really throughout this. Dean's really proved himself, hasn't he? But let's talk about "Azazel"...

Did you like the reveal? It changes how you look at Nick, huh?

Well, he's about to get worse.

(Don't worry too much though. There will be protective!Dean.)

Next Time:

He grabbed your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”

You shoved his hand off of you.

“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”

Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge.

Keep Reading: PART 13

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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#All in the Family #Smoke Eater #Part 12 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #Castiel #spn #supernatural #benny lafitte #jo harvelle #ellen harvelle #zepskies writes

[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 18)

your words, baby, how they mean so little when your just a little to late.

—

A/N: I’m sorry y’all… 🤞🏻😔

Synopsis: bunch of hurt feelings that no one can explain

—

“Are they here yet?”

“shhh, be quiet.” I put my finger to my lips as Frankie rolls her eyes at me.

“Listen, I have to interject,” Taylor begins, “This is why Conrad is lame. You two need to stop fighting over him and let it go! He just strings people along. Let’s not act like his feelings for you are real, yn.”

I know she didn’t mean it in a mean way, but it hurt. Because no one actually believed Conrad felt that way about me, and I was starting to believe it to. What about all those stolen kisses? The cuddling at night and when he would mumble words into my ear so I would forget about the rain. Was it even real? That night?

I didn’t have time to respond to Taylor because Jeremiah is getting out of the car. “Oh my God, Belly are you okay?”

Frankie scoffs, “Yeah, we’re fine thanks for asking.” And I can’t help but laugh a little at Jeremiah’s blatant forgetfulness of anyone who wasn’t Belly.

Conrad trials behind Jeremiah and Taylor and Frankie pounce at the chance to question him, “What are you doing here?”

His adam’s apple bobs up and down before holding a bag in front of us, “Nicole.. she uh— gave me these.”

Taylor takes it quickly, “You better tell her to watch her back.” Me and the rest of the girls get in a line and Jeremiah and Conrad awkwardly hold the towel up after a couple of seconds. They better not look.

Belly shakes her head, “Hey uh, do you guys mind if I go with Jeremiah?”

“Yes, 1000% yes.” Taylor adds quickly.

“So we have to go with Conrad?” Frankie breathes the words out like there’s no tomorrow. Truthfully, I don’t want to go with Conrad either but what choice do we have since Belly and Jeremiah want to get down at 11 at night.

“Seriously?” I say but it comes out like more a whisper.

“You’ll be fine, yn. Nothing you haven’t done before.” The words come out sharp like knives to my heart. Thought me and Belly were over that but we might need to talk more.

“Ignore her, yn.” Frankie whispers in my ear and we all finish changing. Jeremiah throws the covers to the side and Belly awkwardly shuffled towards Jeremiah. He puts a hand on her back as they walk to his car.

Conrad grabs his shoulder and rubs it, but the rubbing became more aggressive the more nervous he got. “So, you guys all coming with me?”

“Sadly.” Frankie whips out.

“Let’s not make this a thing.” Taylor adds and for the first time her and Frankie start laughing. With each other and before I can question them they’re getting into the back seats.

I sigh and get into the passenger side and like always Conrad’s staring at me. I’m over it at this point.

“Crazy night guys..” Those words, they make we want to slap him. Over and over again. Does he even realize what he’s done? We were naked because of him. That’s the second time he’s the cause for me being naked. Shamefully.

“It didn’t have to be like that, if you would just stop texting yn and pretending to like her.” Taylor shoots the words right at Conrad’s throat and I can almost see the stab mark in my head.

“Taylor—”

“No, i’m serious. Maybe if you actually liked her this wouldn’t be a problem. But you don’t. So let’s just.. go.”

I can’t look anywhere else besides the window because I know if I face Conrad my heart will break into a million pieces. All the i love you’s and the promises will be broken. Our friendship lost in the cracks as well.

—

Age 14, Summer

“Jere, please?”

“Mom, I promised Belly I would take her to the boardwalk, I can’t stay with yn.”

There was one thing that was worse than leaving the summer house. That was getting a cold during the summer. Right now, that was me. Poor yn, stuck inside away from the daylight like Susannah claimed.

Their voices chirped in the background which I faintly heard, but my ears were way to clogged to fully understand.

“Why can’t Connie stay home with her? He’s obsessed with her.”

“Jere, Connie is practicing for a sailing competition, ie would you please—”

After minutes of bickering it was clear Jeremiah was not going to stay inside for me, but it was nothing personal. Even if he had decided to give in I would have felt guilty for prying him away from Belly.

Susannah came over to hand me a glass of water when Conrad walked in the room, surfboard in hand ready to catch some waves. His face went from excited to worried within milliseconds.

“What’s wrong with yn?” He looks at Susannah and I suddenly feel like a child. Like i’m not even here. I certainly look like one though in my shorts and sweatshirt. My hair was up in a high bun and sweat was dripping off my face.

Susannah’s eyes light up and I know now i’m going to have to sit through another 10 minutes of a fisher brother rejecting care to me. I would get up but I feel to sick to do anything.

“Oh, poor yn, has a summer cold. Threw up this morning.” Susannah runs a hand through my hair and another horrible, burning sneeze comes from my mouth. I can see Susannah wince.

“Oh.” Conrad whispers and I know he’s contemplating it. I don’t want him to though, he deserves the right to go outside and have fun, do whatever he wants. I’m not worth the time.

“Connie, could you, maybe—”

“I’ll stay with her. You can go to the store and run some errands mom.”

That feeling, that the girls say they feel in fairytales, I think I just got that. Leave it to Conrad Fisher to make a girl feel like the only fucking girl in the world.

“Don’t you have to surf?” I say and after I realize how desperate I sound, it’s sad. Almost like i’m begging him to go the ocean and forget about me. For now.

Instead of the response I thought he was going to give, he waves his hand and shakes his head, “It’s okay, I’ll go change.”

Before I can protest, Conrad’s up the stairs in a heartbeat.

“See,” Susannah begins, “He’d do anything for you.”

I laugh, a little too hard which results in me coughing and Susannah hands me my glass of water. “That’s funny.” I say once my voice clears.

“It’s true, yn. You’re his weakness.” The words came off Susannah’s tongue like a prayer, a promise. A promise in my heart that maybe one day, I would believe her.

Minutes later, Conrad came downstairs in shorts and a sweatshirt. He had also brought down with him and extra pair of sweats and an ice pack.

“uhm- i brought you these.” He motions and Susannah looks at me through a grin, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” And with that, she’s off the couch and I swore I heard her whisper something to Conrad. Maybe I was so sick I was hallucinating. All of this.

Conrad sits down next to me and I felt guilty. Nobody should have to be by me right now. Not even Conrad who was my best friend, my other half.

He noticed my shift and tapped my arm, “Hey, how about you put these on?”

“You can go, Conrad.” My voice is barely above a whisper but his face conveys pure confusion. “Please. I’ll tell Susannah you stayed.”

“Woah woah yn—”

“Just go.” I shake my head and cough into my hands, feeling it cut into my throat. I groan at the pain.

“I’m not going anywhere, yn. Don’t be a dummy. I didn’t do this for my mom.”

Me. Your his weakness.

“But surfing?—” I go to question but he puts a hand to my lips.

“Surfing could wait, this can’t. Your a mess, yn. I’m not just gonna watch while my girl coughs her lungs up out her body.”

My girl? I think I might die, all for him to bring me back to life. He had that sorta effect on me. All these years I had been obsessed with someone noticing me, maybe Jeremiah. I thought one day he might, but not Conrad. We were best friends, but I never thought he saw me that way. If I had known sooner, maybe things could have been easier.

Instead of saying what I want to, I nod and grab the sweatpants from him, throwing them over my body. For some reason, I still felt cold as hell.

“Here, come on..” Conrad opens his arms for me and the only thing I wanted to do was hug him for eternity. Instead, I stupidly say: “You know you’ll get sick?”

He smirks, “Shut up, Conklin. It’s not my fault if you decline my warm chest.” And that was it. I caved. I wrapped my arms around his torso and nuzzled my head into his shoulder. My body still twitched from the aching and cold, but Conrad knew all the right things to do.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Relax.”

“Kinda hard to do that.”

Conrad stroked the hairs on my head, and I couldn’t help but blush. He was so tender, so kind, and all I wanted to do now was be sick forever, as long as he was here.

“Your very warm.” I mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He says and by the tone of his voice I know he’s smiling.

For the rest of the day we stayed inside watching shows and I never let go of Conrad besides when he got up to get me more medicine and water. As soon as he sat back down my arms were around him. I even felt him kiss my forehead once.

My eyes were sagging, and sleep was about to take over me. The last thing I heard was a soft voice whisper to me.

“It’s you, yn. I wish you could see that.”

I didn’t respond, because he probably thought I was sleeping. Honestly, i’m beginning to wonder If i was.

—

Present Day:

The eerie noises of the night kept me up, not allowing me to fall into a deep sleep I needed.

After the most awkward ride with Conrad and the girls, we all went to our separate rooms. Frankie was already fast asleep and I couldn’t blame her after the events that occurred today. It’s not everyday you get stranded naked by rich kids.

Just as my thoughts began to wind down, my phone buzzed a couple of times and I instantly grabbed it, with every bone in my body telling me not to i still did.

Conrad: u up? come down please?

I tell myself this is it, the last thing I do for Conrad Fisher. I’ll walk downstairs and tell him this is the end, of everything. Not just this love and fling he’s strung in my face all these years. This friendship. This pure friendship that got caught between the lies of our real feelings.

My feet tread across the wooden floor and lightly make my way downstairs. Conrad is by the docks. Hesitantly, I slip out the back door praying I don’t wake anyone. When i’m certain I don’t, I head for the docks.

He looks at me for the first time with an expression I can’t seem to recognize: Hurt, anger, love? I cant tell.

We’re inches apart as I stand at the dock where our childhood memories once lingered, and I think they still do.

“You came.”

I scoff, “You texted me.” I wave my phone in the air motioning at him, “can you please stop doing that?”

He’s taken aback by the harshness in my tone, “I’m sorry, stop texting you?”

“Yeah. I- I think so.” No. I don’t think so.

He reads right through me and grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. At this rate i’ll break in a couple of minutes if he doesn’t stop this, touching.

“Conrad.”

“I don’t believe you, you know.” His free hand trails up my arm and slowly grazes my neck. “When you say that type of stuff.”

I wanna hate him so bad, but I can’t find it in me to do so. Every fiber in my body is telling me to walk away, and never look back, but I can’t. My eyes are glued to Conrad Fisher, and my heart belongs to him.

“Conrad, please.” He grazes my jaw and that’s when i’ve lost. Lost this battle between us. If he wanted me in this moment, I think I would’ve let him take me. It was bad, but so true.

“It’s selfish, what i’m doing.” He whispers against me. “Because I haven’t been fair. You know it.” My head is against his chest now and I feel his every breath. I have to stay strong, remember that this is it.

Why can’t the words come out of my mouth?

“This was the last thing I wanted. I never wanted you to regret what we did.”

That’s when I pulled my head out of his chest and shook my head, “What? Who said I regretted it?”

Conrad let go of me and ran a hand through his hair, “I- i don’t know.. I just like thought maybe.. you didn’t—”

He would never get it. If anything, this summer should be an indication to him that you very much did not regret what you two did, in fact you wanted more. I suddenly fell out of the trance Conrad had placed me in.

“This is it Conrad. You don’t get to have me anymore.”

To my surprise, he nods his head, “I know.”

Wasn’t this what you wanted? For him to let you go?

So why do I feel like my heart is ripping out? Why do I want him to fight for something that’s already gone?

“Bad things happen, when we try and… fix whatever this is. We were just two friends- best friends who got tangled into each other. It’s not like it was real.” The words burn my throat and tear at Conrad’s heart as I see them. It wasn’t true, I wanted to tell him.

“I.. yeah.” Conrad trails off.

“So please, let it go. Let me go. It’s too painful.”

Conrad only nods and pulls out a black little bag from his pocket. I already know what it is, and my heart throbs at the thought. “This was yours.”

“No, Conrad—”

“It’s for you. I can’t just give it to someone else. Throw it away, burn it, just.. I cant keep this. It’s a memory of you. You know that.”

“Conrad i’m—”

“Like you said, it wasn’t real, right?” His words sting me even though I had told him it wasn’t real. But it was, to me it was.

“Night, Conrad.” I place the little velvet bag back in his hands before turning to walk away. I even think I heard a faint ‘wait’ before leaving, but I was too dazed to tell.

—

Frankie and Taylor both left the next day. After our little wood’s experience, they had seemed to go from hating each other to tolerating each other. They even agreed on some things.

Susannah was in full deb mode. Since I had no date, my last resort was to text the one and only Josh. Of course, I had thought about asking Conrad but after our talk from the previous night I doubted he wanted to talk to me.

Luckily, Josh said he would be happy to take me, as a friend, which made me chuckle a little bit.

I walked into the living room mid afternoon, scrambling about things that needed to be done. Josh was a late entry, and I couldn’t exactly talk to Nicole about that considering she left me naked in the woods the previous night. Susannah told me she would go to the club and get it sorted though.

“What’s up with you?” I hear a voice and turn around only to be met with Belly. She’s sitting at the counter, looking more solemn than ever.

“I should be asking you that.” I pour some orange juice into my cup before placing it back in the fridge.

Belly shrugs, “I’m just thinking, I guess.” I nod and we stay silent for a little while before Belly plunges my heart a little more, “Why didn’t you tell me, about Conrad?”

I shake my head, “It’s over now, in the—”

“No. Before. When you liked him. All those years that I did?” I swallowed bile that was sticking to my throat and the walls felt like closing in. I knew why I didn’t tell her. If I did, it would ruin that perfect older sister image I wanted her to have of me.

“Did you always like him?” She asks, and her tone suggests she almost doesn’t wanna know the answer.

“I think.. yeah. The first time I felt it was when I was 11 years old. I tried to cover it up by saying I liked Jeremiah, but that wasn’t true. I just.. how could I say a thing? Not when you were—”

“Desperately in love with him? Yeah.”

I shake my head, “No. Not that. I should’ve told you.”

She nods, “You should’ve.” There was a slight pause and I wondered for a moment if this was it, I had already lost Conrad. What’s one more to add to this shit show of a summer?

“But I mean.. I guess I always knew. It was always there in the back of my head, you and Conrad. I could always see it in the way he looked at you.”

“Belly—”

“I just- always wanted that chance with him, you know? It was selfish, but sometimes I wished you weren’t here. You weren’t supposed to be. I don’t think that now though, you know I wouldn’t.”

Those words coming out of Belly’s mouth made me want to throw up but this is the closest we’ve been in a year so I can’t take this for granted. I lean over and squeeze her hand, “Belly, I’m sorry about this year. I wanna be close again, and Conrad never should’ve gotten in the way.”

“I guess I wouldn’t really wanna tell you if I had sex with him, so I get it.” I couldn’t tell if she was taking shots at me anymore or being nice but I smiled anyways. This was a new start, me and Belly. Boys or not, it was me and her through the long hall.

After we let go, the question that had been burning my body to ask finally arose, “So, Jeremiah?”

Belly’s cheeks turn a crimson red before stuffing her face with a muffin. “I don’t know, he’s.. it’s different. Conrad didn’t feel real, you know? But Jere is real, and it’s scary.”

To me, it was the exact opposite. Conrad felt very real, so real that my brain wants to explode when i’m next to him. He makes me forget everything and everyone and it’s just us in a world of bliss.

I pinch my arm, coming back to reality. I really have to stop thinking about Conrad.

—

A/N: Pain Pain Pain!! We good? You guys only 2-3 more chapters left I can’t my heartttt :(

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely @allnrsnz @galaxy13sworld @paytonloiselle @i-think-you-are-gr8 @imaspecialpersonwhoneedshelp @awatt31 @user0440822 @jackierose902109 @chocolatefartstrawberry @whoisjellyellie @apollo3475

(tag list for some reason won’t tag some people)

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #belly conklin #conrad x reader #team jeremiah #tsitp #love #summer love

[octoberclidan]

We're Gonna Look After You

Request: Hello I absolutely in love with your fics especially the platonic ones. May I request another one for TFW? Y/n is a kid with powers like scarlet witch and after being possessed by Amara she develops some PTSD and starts to be more ruthless in hunts and with the main villains. TFW is there to make y/n see herself as the good and joyfull kid she was before.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader (all platonic)

Note: I only write readers as adults so the reader here doesn't have a specified age but is 18+. Dean refers to her as 'kid' though since he's Dean.

Story

[Y/N] woke up to shouting. Was that her name she heard? Her head hurt, there was a sharp pain in her temple. Her whole body ached, she felt exhausted. It was dark, there was no light wherever she was. Or maybe there was, were her eyes closed? She couldn't tell, she could only feel pain. The shouting was getting louder, it definitely sounded like her name. It was too loud, her ears were hurting, she was shaking. Was she crying? She felt lost, empty, dark. Her hands cupped her ears, trying to block out the shouting. She felt herself rocking back and forth, her knees pressed to her forehead, and then she heard a second voice. This one was higher pitched, it sounded a bit more like a scream than a shout. It sounded a lot like her own voice. "Get out, get out, stop shouting, leave me alone". It screamed. It sounded too close, almost like it was inside her. Was it her voice? Was she the one screaming? She couldn't tell. She couldn't think properly, her mind was muddled.

Warm hands covered hers and gently pulled them away from her ears. The warm hands came with a warm voice, it wasn't shouting anymore. The voice was kind, soft, almost pleading. It was saying her name over and over again. She felt one of the hands drift down to her chin, and it pulled her face up and away from her knees. A thumb stroked her cheek and she leaned into it out of pure instinct. It felt familiar, like home. She stayed like that before taking a shaky breath and forcing her eyes open. Her vision was blurry from the tears, but she knew the face in front of her. She knew those green eyes, the freckles, the concern.

"Dean?" She whispered.

[Y/N] was taken in by Team Free Will a couple of years ago, when Dean was dealing with the Mark of Cain. They had found her on a hunt, being the lone survivor of a coven of witches who were into experimenting. She had been held captive for several years and had undergone countless experimental curses, spells, and potions by the coven, as a human test subject. Although they had kept others captive, [Y/N] was the only one still alive when Sam and Dean broke into the mansion she was being kept in. They found out very soon after that the experiments had left [Y/N] with certain powers and abilities; she could move objects with her mind, get inside people's heads, warp the reality around them.

She had no family, no friends, no money, and nowhere to go. Dean wasn't too happy with Sam's suggestion to take her in for awhile, since he said she was too dangerous, but he eventually gave in when he realised there wasn't anything else they could really do with her. They couldn't send her to Jody since her powers were too unpredictable, and they couldn't let her go off on her own without having her powers under control. Dean had suggested just killing her, complaining that they didn't have time to take her in, that dealing with the Mark was more important, but Sam had quickly talked him out of that, considering she hadn't actually hurt anyone with her powers.

Dean ended up warming up to her after several weeks. They were a lot alike and enjoyed the same music and movies. They became close friends, and she also became close with both Sam and Cas. She earned a permanent place in Team Free Will by helping Sam and Cas find a way to cure Dean after he became a demon, and also helped in removing the Mark, unknowingly setting Amara loose on the world. Although Amara had left with Chuck and everything seemed to be alright again, there were rumours that she was back. Several months back, Dean and [Y/N] were out following a lead when they found her. Her vessel had weakened, and it was struggling to hold her. After a brief altercation, Amara took [Y/N]'s body. [Y/N]'s strength and power only fuelled Amara, and Amara became more powerful than ever in her new vessel. She had disappeared only a few minutes after possessing [Y/N], leaving Dean alone. He was angry at himself for letting [Y/N] get taken, she had become extremely important to him ever since she'd helped him with the Mark. He knew they would get her back, he just didn't know how long it would take or what state she'd be in. He had seen people after they'd been possessed by demons and angels and archangels; a lot of them lost their minds or would die not long after. He couldn't bring himself to imagine what sort of damage the Darkness was doing to [Y/N]'s mind and body.

They all knew they needed to find her as soon as possible, it had already been too long. The issue was, they had no leads. Amara was silent. She hadn't done anything, or at least anything that would leave a trace. It was like she'd just disappeared again. When there were a sudden and quick series of disturbances in a nearby town, the boys raced over and burst into an abandoned wearhouse, where they finally found her.

"Yeah, it's me, I'm here". Dean studied her face, relief washing over him as he realised that it really was [Y/N], and Amara was nowhere to be seen. "Come here". He pulled her close to his chest and she closed her eyes. Everything was still too loud, too bright for her. She tried to focus on the sound of his heartbeat, which was steady beneath her ear. She grabbed a fistful of his flannel, scared that if she let go she would be lost again. "Sam, you drive". She heard him say before she was lifted up. She kept her grip on him and tucked her head into his shoulder as he carried her outside to the car. She was vaguely aware of a conversation happening between Dean and Sam, but she wasn't listening. She did note that Sam's voice sounded just as concerned as Dean's. The only word she understood was 'Cas', though she didn't hear his voice.

She started to become more aware of her surroundings once they were in the car. She could hear the rumble of the engine, and she was laying in the backseat with her head in Dean's lap. Their seemingly wordless conversation began to make sense. She kept her eyes closed, the brightness still too much, but she squeezed Dean's hand to tell him she was awake. He soothingly stroked her hair as she spoke to Sam.

"What did Cas say?" She heard Dean ask.

"He said he'll meet us back at the bunker. I don't know if there's much he can help with, it's not like she has a broken arm or a scratch, Dean. It's her mind. You know we might have to-"

"We're going to put her to bed. Cas can take a look at her and we'll go from there". Dean cut Sam off.

"Dean-"

"I don't want to hear it Sam, just drive".

"You know she's lost control of her powers before, and how bad it was, if she's not in the right headspace then she's dangerous Dean. We'll need to put her somewhere other than her bedroom".

"You want to tie her up? She's just spent the last few months trapped inside her body while God's sister possessed her. You've been possessed by a demon, an angel, even Lucifer, can you image how bad the fucking Darkness was? And you want to put her in a dungeon?"

"Of course I don't want to Dean". Sam snapped at him. "I care about her just as much as you do. I locked you up when you were a demon, you locked me up when I was high on demon blood, sometimes you have to do shit you don't want to do". [Y/N] felt the car come to a stop and heard a door slam before the door beside her and Dean opened.

"What the fuck are you doing? We need to get her back to the bunker!"

"We need to have this conversation".

"She needs rest".

"We don't know what she needs. She's been gone for months, possessed by possibly the most powerful thing there is all of existence".

"Sam-"

"Dean. Listen to me. You know what she can do, she could destroy an entire town easily, especially if her mind isn't right".

"Her mind is fine". Dean defended her and she heard Sam let out a sigh of frustration.

"What are you doing? You know she's dangerous". Sam scoffed. "You wanted to kill her when we first found her because of how dangerous she is. Now you won't take any precautions at all? I'm not saying we lock her up forever and throw away the key. I'm saying we keep her somewhere secure until we know that the damage is and how to fix it". [Y/N] heard Dean take a deep breath, about to continue the argument but she managed to speak up and interrupt them.

"It's okay, Sam's right". She whispered. She opened her eyes and looked up at Dean. His frustrated expression softened as he looked down at her, and he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"We're gonna look after you kid, okay?" He said.

"[Y/N], we're going to get you back to the bunker and Cas will take a look at you, get a better idea of what to do". She looked up to Sam as he spoke. She noticed that his eyes were red, clearly upset by the situation. She nodded at him before closing her eyes again and grabbing at Dean's flannel again. Sam closed the door and got back in to the driver's side and started the car up again. The boys didn't talk for the rest of the drive, and Dean gently tracing his thumb over [Y/N]'s cheek quickly sent her to sleep.

***

It was dark when she woke up; too dark. [Y/N] began to panic, it felt like she was suffocating in the darkness. She couldn't catch her breath, for a moment she thought she was still being possessed. She managed to gulp in a breath of air and when she let it out, it came out as a scream. Light flooded the room and she could just about make out a figure coming towards her. She quickly pushed herself backwards, her hand reaching behind her for support but finding none. He hand hit emptiness and she fell backwards, hitting her back on the cold concrete floor. Looking up she could see that she'd fallen off a bed. It wasn't her bed, this wasn't her bedroom, and as her vision adjusted she could see that this was a safe room in the bunker.

"Are you okay?" The figure crouched down next to her and Cas's face came into view. "Here, let me check". He reached his fingers out to her forehead but she quickly swatted them away. All of the sudden stimulation was agitating her, she wanted to quiet and darkness. She never thought she'd want to see the dark again after being trapped in it for so long, but she felt that she needed it.

"Don't touch me. I'm fine".

"Why won't you let me help you?" Cas looked confused, and hurt that she didn't want him to touch her. He had healed her on plenty of hunts before.

"I don't need your help".

"What's going on? I heard a scream". [Y/N] moved her gaze from Cas to see Dean standing in the doorway looking down at them. "Did you fall off the bed? Are you hurt?" He rushed over to them and knelt down beside Cas, about to reach his hand out to grab her shoulder.

"Get OFF". She shouted and pushed her hand out, using her abilities to force Dean back as he slid back against the floor until he hit the wall on the opposite side of the room. He stared at her in disbelief as her eyes glowed red, and Cas rushed towards him to check for injury. She curled up, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on top of them. "Please get out". She muttered.

"[Y/N]-" Cas started.

"I said, get out. Please". She didn't look up at him. She didn't want to see his face, or Dean's. She knew she would see hurt and disappointment on them, probably fear too, and she didn't want to see any of that. She didn't want to see anything.

***

She was left alone for the rest of the day. She knew the door was locked, and they'd probably put up every bit of warding that they could think of to keep her in, but she didn't try to get out. She didn't want to face any of them. She didn't know whether it was night or day with the lack of a window, and she didn't know how long she spent curled up on the floor, when she heard a buzzing. Slowly lifting her head, she looked around the room but couldn't see anything. She took a deep breath before forcing herself to get up, using the bed as support. She felt the vibrations under her fingers as she leaned on the bed, and she looked down to see her phone, and two texts from Sam. She unlocked her phone to read them.

9:34pm: Sam: Hey, I just want you to know that Dean and Cas aren't upset with you or anything, they get it, you just need space.

9:35pm: Sam: Also, if you need anything, just text or call. At least one of us will be in the bunker at all times. We're here if you need us. Love you.

She sighed and put the phone back on the bed. She felt frustrated, angry, but also strangely calm. The room was quiet, it was dark, and she was alone. She lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Why was she still alive? Why had Amara left? All she could remember was dark emptiness, for months, and then suddenly everything was bright and loud and Dean was there. Her body had been used for months, she had no idea what for, but she knew she needed to find Amara. She needed answers, and she needed revenge. Her mind wandered to different scenarios where she faced the Darkness again, and how that might play out. The scenarios slowly turned to dreams as she fell asleep.

***

[Y/N] stayed in the room for three days without contacting anyone. Cas had brought down food and water at regular intervals, but she never acknowledged him as he came or went. The brothers hadn't come down, probably thinking Cas was safest if she used her powers again, but both Sam and Dean had texted her to see if she wanted to talk, wanted to get out, or if she needed anything. She'd ignored them. When she woke up on the fourth day, she decided that she needed to get out and find Amara. The only way to do that was convince the guys that she was okay. So, she texted Sam that morning asking for him to come down and talk to her.

"Hey, I brought you some breakfast". Sam said he walked into the room. [Y/N] was sitting on the edge of the bed and she noticed how unsure Sam looked.

"Can you sit with me?" She asked, and the worry on his face changed to confusion, which he quickly caught and changed it to a smile.

"Yeah, sure, of course". He brought the tray over and sat down beside [Y/N]. She took the tray from him and started to eat.

"How... how are you?" Sam asked.

"I feel better. I don't remember anything, just dark and quiet, that's why I was kinda overwhelmed when you guys found me. Too much light and noise".

"That's understandable. So you don't remember anything at all?" He asked and she shook her head.

"No, one minute I was with Dean, we were fighting Amara, then nothing. For months, nothing. Then you found me".

"We looked for you, every single day [Y/N], I promise".

"I know". She smiled and him and reached over to place her hand on his. "I know".

"Do you wanna come back out? Dean and Cas are both out at the moment so it's just us. I can turn the lights down low if that would make it easier?"

"I'd like to go to my own room if that's okay? I'm okay with the light now I think".

"Yeah of course, come on, I'll walk with you". Sam stood up and offered [Y/N] his hand to help her up off the bed. "I'll clear up the food, don't worry about it". He smiled and opened up the door for them and walked her to her room in the bunker. When she got to her room she sat on her bed and started to look through her phone at all of the texts she'd been ignoring. "Is it okay if Dean or Cas come check in on you later? I know they've missed you. If you'd rather they wait a bit longer that's fine, just let me know either way". Sam said as he stood in her doorway.

"I think I just want to rest today, but maybe later this evening they could say hello?"

"Sure, got it. You need anything you just let me know". He offered her another smile before leaving and closing her door. [Y/N] sat back against the headboard and pulled her laptop over and opened it up. She was going to see if she could find anything that could point to where Amara had gone. She was going to get answers to her questions.

***

It was 11pm when Dean and Cas came knocking on her bedroom door. When she opened it up to them they were both smiling down at her, though she could tell they looked a bit uncomfortable, unsure of what they were going to be greeted with. "Hey Sweetheart, how are you doing?" Dean asked as she stood back from the door, letting them in.

"Just tired, but feeling more like myself".

"Could I take a look at you now?" Cas asked and she nodded, letting him press his fingers to her forehead. "You don't seem to have any physical injuries". He smiled at her.

"I'm really sorry for shouting at you before. And Dean, I'm really, really sorry for pushing you back like that. I hope you weren't hurt".

"Nah I was fine, don't worry about it. Sam said you were just feeling overwhelmed, it's all good". Dean said as he took a seat in the chair in the corner of her room. Cas sat down on the edge of her bed and she sat down beside him. It was quiet at first, but then Cas brought up the fact that he'd been up in heaven the previous day, and [Y/N] listened intently for any mention of Amara or her whereabouts. He said that the angels suspected she was hiding away back in Hell, off earth and away from prying eyes. She was happy to get a lead, but she tried to keep it off her face to avoid the boys suspecting her intentions. It was nearing midnight when she yawned, genuinely tired, and realised that she had been leaning her head against Cas's shoulder for awhile now.

"Looks like you should be getting some sleep. Come on Cas, let's let her get some rest". Dean said as he stood up. He walked over to them and bent down, pressing his lips to the top of her hair. "Night [Y/N], we'll see you in the morning". Cas wrapped an arm around her and gave her a light squeeze before standing up and following Dean out of the room. Once they were gone, [Y/N] began getting dressed into clothes more suitable for hunting, and she packed her bag with summoning supplies. She knew she'd have to wait a bit longer before she could sneak out, but at least now she had a plan and knew how to get some more information; Crowley.

***

At 3am, [Y/N] snuck out of the bunker. She was met by a sleeping Dean who was passed out at the map table, a bunch of papers and a laptop spread out in front of him; he'd been looking for Amara too. She managed to make it out without disturbing him, and she walked away from the bunker. She needed to find a secluded area where she could summon Crowley without anyone seeing. She didn't go too far, maybe walking for 30 minutes or so into the forest area behind the bunker. She came to a small clearing and began to lay out the supplies she'd brought. She was finishing up the incantation when she heard him.

"Well, this is a surprise".

"Crowley".

"[Y/N], tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Where is Amara?"

"Last I heard, hitching a ride in you".

"She left me days ago, you can't tell me you're not aware of that. I know you had to be keeping tabs on her".

"This is the first I'm hearing of it". He shrugged and smirked at her. "Where is the rest of your tragic team? You're out here in the middle of the night on your own, after spending months possessed? Can't image any of them would be happy with that". He clicked his tongue as he shook his head disapprovingly at her.

"I can handle being out on my own, you know I can knock you down with a flick of my wrist". She glowed her red eyes at him and he glowed his back in return.

"What the fuck are you doing out here?" [Y/N] froze and Crowley smiled, glancing above her head.

"Hello Squirrel".

"Crowley? Seriously [Y/N]?"

"I need to get answers Dean". She folded her arms and turned her back to Crowley to face Dean.

"I get that, I do, trust me, but we work together. You can't go wandering off on your own in the middle of the night to summon demons in the middle of nowhere".

"We were just having a nice conversation, a catch up really". Crowley said and Dean glared at him and pointed a finger at him.

"You shut up. Go back to Hell, be useful for once and find Amara". He moved his finger then to point at [Y/N]. "You come back to the bunker with me now, we need to talk".

"What, am I in trouble? I can take care of myself".

"Yeah? And if you come across Amara what exactly are you going to do to stop her from possessing you again? You couldn't do shit last time".

[Y/N] didn't have an answer to this. She just rolled her eyes before turning back around to Crowley, but he was gone. She sighed and began to collect her stuff and put it back into her bag, avoiding Dean's gaze as she did so. They walked back to the bunker in silence, and were met with Cas and Sam once they got back.

"Where did you go?" Sam asked as they walked down the steps.

"She decided to meet with Crowley". Dean explained as [Y/N] attempted to walk straight past them and to her room. She was promptly stopped by Sam's hands on her shoulders.

"Are you okay?" He looked down at her and she was surprised to see no trace of anger, only concern.

"Yeah, I just want to go to bed, so please excuse me". She shrugged Sam's hands off her and left the three of them standing there while she went to her room. She was sure they were going to stay up for awhile talking about her, but she just shut her door and got into her bed, trying to push everything out of her head so she could sleep.

***

The next few weeks were tough. She was on lockdown, at least one of the boys were always either in the same room as her, or by the entrance of the bunker. There was no way she was getting out again on her own. She hadn't actually left the bunker at all since her meeting with Crowley. She had taken to sitting in her room a lot, sifting through online reports of unusual activity, or looking through the bunker's archives under the supervision of Sam, or occasionally being forced to watch a movie or Netflix with either Dean or Cas. She also tended to see at least one of them every night when she'd wake up screaming, usually from a nightmare where she felt like she was drowning or suffocating in darkness.

She wasn't actively avoiding them during the day, she'd had conversations with each of them, and as time went on she was talking to them more and more, but she needed to get out of the bunker. One morning when she was having breakfast with all of them in the kitchen, she was relieved to hear a 'so get this' from Sam as he scrolled through something on his laptop. He read out an article which sounded very much like a werewolf, only an hour or so from the bunker. Dean had asked Cas to stay behind with her while he and Sam went out on the case, but she immediately argued and said she needed to get out and hunt something. After a long conversation, they eventually all agreed to let her go with them on the condition that she always stay within eyesight of one of them.

***

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, his grip tight on the steering wheel. He was driving the Impala with Sam beside him, and [Y/N] and Cas in the back. They were all covered in blood and dirt from the hunt, which turned out to be three werewolves. "I'm talking to you [Y/N]". Dean glared at her in the rearview mirror when she didn't say anything.

"What was what?"

"Oh please, don't play dumb with me. You know what, you basically let that werewolf sink its claws into your shoulder".

"No I didn't, it caught me off guard".

"You literally have powers, you can sense everything around you, there's no way you would let a wolf get that close to you if you weren't distracted". Sam said as he turned around in his seat to face her. "We shouldn't have brought you out with us, it was too soon".

"I'm not a child". She glared at him.

"Could've fooled me". Dean said and she moved her glare from Sam to the back of Dean's head.

"I saw you freeze. You saw the werewolf coming for you and you didn't do anything". Cas said. [Y/N] swallowed nervously, afraid her tough exterior wasn't as convincing as she thought it was, and looked out of her window, avoiding eye contact with any of them. She couldn't argue with Cas after he'd just healed her.

"[Y/N], we're just worried about you. The nightmares, the obsessive researching, you're not yourself. We miss you, we just want you to be okay".

"I'll be okay when we find and kill Amara". She said, not taking her eyes off the window but she could tell they were exchanging looks behind her.

"Let us help you. Let us be there for you". Sam said, but she didn't reply. They didn't try to talk to her for the rest of the ride home.

***

The darkness was back. [Y/N] was drowning, there was no light, no way to know which way was up. She couldn't find a way out, she was stuck. She held her breath for as long as she could, her heart beating fast, tears streaming down her face. Her lungs were burning when she finally opened her mouth, a scream escaping. She struggled to catch her breath when she realised she was no longer in complete darkness, but she could see the desk in the corner of her room, the glow of her laptop on it. She was in her bed, she was safe for now. Her door opened and Sam rushed in, going straight to her bedside.

"Hey, hey, breathe. You're okay, you're in the bunker, you're safe". He pulled her towards him and she grabbed his shirt, still crying and struggling to breathe. "Match my breathing, take some nice deep breaths, come on, I've got you". He ran his hand up and down her back slowly. She slowly regained control over her breathing. Normally at this stage after a nightmare she would urge them to leave her alone, convincing them that she was okay. This time however, the tears didn't stop. She cried into Sam's shirt and he held her, just letting her get it out.

"I-I need y-your help". She sniffed and kept her grip on him tight.

"You have my help. And Dean's, and Cas'. We're here for you, okay? You're safe with us. We'll get you your answers, but we need to do it the right way". She nodded into his shoulder. They stayed like that for some time, Sam continuing to whisper comforting words in her ear and stroke her back while she gradually stopped crying. When she pulled back from him he wiped her eyes. "Come back to us. We need you too". She nodded at him. She missed the old version of herself too. She missed enjoying movie nights with Dean, enjoying documentaries with Cas, enjoying research and working out with Sam. She missed going on hunts and working together. It had all felt like a chore ever since she got back. She had been treating everything like an unnecessary distraction from looking for Amara. She missed who she was.

"Hey kiddo". She looked up to see Dean in her doorway, Cas standing behind him.

"Hey". Her voice was quiet. She stood up, Sam supporting her, and she walked over to Dean. She briefly made eye contact with him before leaning into him and burying her face in his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. He hugged her back, one hand pressing onto her back and the other on her head. He kissed the top of her head.

"I've missed you". He murmured into her hair.

"I'm sorry".

"We'll help you, but you've got to work with us".

"I will".

"Good". Dean cleared his throat when she pulled away from him, looking up she could see his eyes were watery. Cas walked around him and he pulled her into a hug of his own.

"I'm sorry I've been distant Cas". She said.

"It's okay, maybe we can watch that new bee documentary tomorrow?" He asked, his eyes full of hope.

"Yeah, that would be nice". She looked from him to Dean, and from Dean to Sam. "I'm really lucky to have all of you".

"We're lucky to have you too". Cas said and he tightened his hug. It was going to be some time before she was back to being her old self again, but she was ready to try. She felt loved, and she decided that was enough for now, the revenge could wait. She knew they wanted Amara gone just as much as she did, and she knew they worked best when they all worked together. It would be a long journey, but tomorrow at least would be better, a step in the right direction.

The end

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