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janicho88 · 3 years

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Falling For You -Part 2

October

Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female!Reader, Dean x Lisa(past), Female!Reader x OMC Justin(past)

Word Count-4008

Warning- Mentions of cheating, little angst, some swearing, fluff. This is going to be a bit of a slow burn. Haunted woods. Talk of trying to fake a pregnancy, manipulation, trying to steal from significant other/ falsify documents, Lisa is awful, Justin isn’t much better, talk of being pressured into doing things you don’t want to. I think that is it

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU, and un beta’d.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door. Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to.

Series Masterlist

The next week kept you busy at work and not giving you much free time in the evening. Coming or going you always kept an eye out for your new friend though, not seeing him again till the weekend. Heading back to your apartment after your Saturday morning workout you ran into Dean coming out of his brother’s apartment.

“Hi stranger, how is everything coming together for you?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s coming. I found a job, starting a week from Monday. Still looking for a place though, guess I’ll be crashing with Sam a little longer and putting my stuff in storage up here till I find something. Work slow down for you yet?”

“Congrats on the new job! No, not yet. A family emergency came up, and our new person can’t start till next week. At least there is a light at the end though. I hate to run on you, but I’m supposed to be meeting Meg, and I really need a shower. Talk to you later?”

“Sure, see ya around.”

With the wedding dress found it was time to find Bridesmaid dresses. Hopefully this went a little better. Her wedding colors were red, black and silver, you would be happier with a black dress, but Meg was thinking red. The color of fire, this wedding was going to be hot she said.

Thankfully you and the 2 bridesmaids Ruby and Sarah were on the same page about finding one and getting done. None of you wanted to try on tons of dresses. Meg actually approving of the third one you found. They were free to leave after that, you got to go help her set up a gift registry. Your fingers were crossed these next six months until the April wedding went fairly quick. Done for the day, she suggested meeting up with Cas and his best man so you could finally meet him.

The guys were meeting you at a local pizza shop so you could grab dinner and talk. Walking in with Meg you quickly saw Cas, and getting closer to the table, recognized the spiky sandy brown haired man across from him. Sliding in next to Dean you mentioned how he never said anything about being the best man, when you said you were the maid of honor.

“Sorry, I think my head was still on other topics then.” He answered you with a small smile

“Wait, you two already know each other?” Cas questioned looking between you both.

“Yeah, I live across the hall from his brother, remember Cas?”

“I do now.”

“No one ever told me that you and Sam knew each other from Kansas though.”

“I guess we didn’t think about it.”

It was an enjoyable evening out with your friends. You found out more about Dean’s new job, he found a small auto shop hiring a head mechanic. The owner, Bobby, had done most of the work himself but was looking to cut back and possibly retire in a few years. If Dean was still around then and interested he might sell the shop to him. There was a part time mechanic working there also, Benny. Dean seemed to think they would get along well.

Dean gave you a ride back so Meg could take Cas with her since they lived in the opposite direction as you two. “I don’t think I told you last week, but I really like your car.”

“Thanks, Baby is my one true girl.”

“Baby?”

Patting the top of the dash Dean glanced over and smiled at you, “That’s her name.”

You just smiled back, “It’s very nice Dean, I hope the two of you will be very happy together.

Closer to home Dean told you he was renting a car and leaving for Kansas tomorrow. He would turn the car in there and drive a Uhaul back with Sam the following weekend. Apparently his brother wasn’t the best driver and he didn’t trust him to drive that far with his car or the uhaul filled with his belongings. Sam was flying home later in the week to meet up with him. Giving him a quick hug outside your apartment door you wished him safe travels and good luck, telling him you would see him when he got back.

Quickly entering your apartment and shutting the door, you were trying to figure out why you hugged him, and why you suddenly were overthinking it. You were friends, friends hugged right? No reason to give it a second thought.

Friday night there was a knock on your door, but you weren’t expecting anyone. Opening it you were surprised to find Jess on the other side with a pizza box and a bottle of wine.

“Hey, I thought I’d see if you were up for some company. Sam and Dean started the drive back this afternoon, so it’s just me over there.”

“Sure! Come on in.” The two of you spent the evening watching bad romance moves and talking about the brothers. Jess had known Sam since they were in undergrad at Stanford, and had a few stories to tell you about both of them. It was nice to learn a little more about Dean.

When Jess had more wine in her she opened up about Dean’s breakup. “I met the cheating bitch a few times and never cared for her. She thought she was better than everyone, always pushing Dean to buy her things, jewelry and fancy clothes. Apparently she started asking Dean some questions that he thought were weird but told himself she must have been taking an interest in things he liked for once.”

She paused to take a drink of wine. “When Dean was packing up after he kicked her out he discovered some stuff in his safe had been moved around, insurance papers, information on stocks he owns, and even his will was in a new place. I guess he didn’t think much of it; he was too caught up in the cheating mess, till a lawyer's office called the house like a week later and left a message saying they needed to come in and sign the last paper. Lisa had either made a copy of his signature or forged it and was trying to put things in her name and change his will for her to inherit even if they weren’t married. He called Sam because he needed legal help to straighten the mess up and make sure she got nothing.

Sam went down one weekend and helped him clean it up. They were looking up something on Dean’s laptop and one of them typed in a wrong word or start of one and some crazy past searches came up. They looked for more and found searches relating to Dean and what he owns, what his business was worth. There was even a search on how to fake a pregnancy test. Sam thinks she was going to try and trick Dean into marrying her if she couldn’t change the papers on her own. She was stupid enough to use Dean’s computer. His parents don’t know, he doesn’t want them too.”

“The first night I met Dean I called him by his last name and he asked something about how I knew and if I looked him up. I get why now.”

“Dean’s a lot more guarded now.” She gave you a lot of information to take in, no wonder he wasn’t looking to date again.

The next afternoon a commotion in the hall drew your attention. Opening the door you found Sam and Dean struggling with some boxes they were both carrying across the hall. You asked if they needed help, but neither heard you over Sam complaining about Dean not knowing how to pack a box. Dean was in turn instructing Sam to be careful with the valuables. Seeing you just before he turned inside Dean gave you a wink and said he would talk to you later.

A few hours later a knock at the door had you hoping for a green eyed man on the other side. Opening it you had gotten your wish. “Hey, I was heading out to grab some dinner. Give Sam and Jess some time together, thought I’d see if you wanted to join me?”

“I actually have lasagna in the oven, it should be done in 20. Would you like to join me here?”

Dean’s eyes lit up at the thought of a homemade meal and he readily accepted. Entering your apartment he removed his coat and asked if he could help with anything. Handing him the drink he asked for, you told him everything was all set. Salad was made and the pasta and bread were in the oven. You washed some dishes while waiting and Dean grabbed a towel to help dry. The two of you working together easily and talking about Dean’s trip back to Kansas. When dinner was ready you dished it up setting Dean’s infront of him. You noticed he wasn’t a big fan of the salad though.

“This is great, my mom isn’t much of a cook so it’s simple meals or take out at their house. Sam and Jess cook, but it’s not real food. He gets these plant or veggie burgers, kale and some green shakes. I need real meat and carbs.”

“Well, you are welcome to stop over here when it gets to be too much. I’m sure I could find something that would save you.”

“Thanks sweetheart, I may take you up on that.”

When you were both finished and everything was cleaned you invited Dean to stay and watch a movie. It was to give Sam and Jess more time alone you told yourself. Dean was just a friend, you were hanging out with.

A short time later your oven timer went off again and you disappeared to pull out the desert you had made. Grabbing some ice cream from the freezer and cutting into the hot treat you once again plated it up and took some to Dean warning him it was still hot. You didn’t think Dean’s eyes could go any bigger than they did when you handed him the fresh baked apple pie. Taking a giant bite his eyes almost rolled back in his head.

“This is incredible, one of the best I’ve ever had. Trust me I’ve had a lot of pie.”

“I’m sure it’s not really that special, but thanks anyways.”

“No, I’m serious. Love me some apple.”

“Fall is a good time for apples here. I would love to go to the orchard some time and pick my own, or even just hang out there one day. I’ve gone a few times as a kid, but I haven’t been in years.”

“You just want to go hang out with apple trees?”

“Not exactly, there is a lot to do this time of year. Apple picking, pumpkin patches, corn maze, hayrides and a store where they sell baked goods, fresh produce and other things. I just think it would be fun sometime. Maybe next year, I’ll find someone to go with me.”

“Tell you what, you pick a weekend next year and I’ll go with you. Speaking of weekends, do you have anything going on next Saturday?”

“Um, a baby shower for a friend in the early afternoon. Then catching up on some work around here, why?”

“One of Jess’ friends is having a big Halloween party, she invited me in hopes of getting Sam to lighten up about it. He’s not a fan of Halloween. Anyway she said I could bring a friend if you want to go. It’s a costume party in some old barn.”

You thought about it for a minute. Was he asking you out, neither of you were supposed to be looking to date right now. He did say bring a friend though. “I think I can manage that, I’ll have to see if I have a costume.”

“Great! I think she said it starts at 8, there’s supposed to be some haunted woods too. Not a corn maze, but it can still be fun. I’ll let you know what time she wants to leave, you don’t care if we ride together right?”

“Nope, not at all.” At least if you were with his brother and Jess it wasn’t a date. Why were you so worried anyway? Dean left a short time later and you cleaned up and got ready for bed.

The new girl you were training, Anna was finally starting to catch on in her second week. This meant you were able to get more of your work done, and not have to stay too late. You needed to find a costume and a baby gift sometime before Saturday. Running into Jess in the hall one night, you asked if you needed to bring anything Saturday. There wasn’t anything, and she was just happy that you were joining them.

Since you had just over a week until Halloween many of the costumes were already picked over, you weren’t looking to meet up with anyone so you were also trying to avoid anything too revealing. Plus it was outside in the evening, and temps were falling so you didn’t want to freeze either. Finally finding something you deemed would work at the third store you tried.

Saturday came faster than you had hoped. The shower went well, Kelly was so excited to meet her little boy in a few short months. You couldn’t wait to spoil him! Doing a quick grocery store run, you headed home to try and clean a little before you had to get ready. When 7:30 rolled around you were ready for the knock on your door.

Opening the door you bit back a laugh at the sight before you, “Howdy Sheriff.”

Dean shook his head sending you a fake smile, “This was one of the few adult costumes left.”

“That’s what you get for waiting till yesterday to get your outfit Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes, also trying not to laugh at his brother’s attire. He and Jess were dressed as Sandy and Danny from Greece.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I had this awesome Batman costume, but it’s in one of the boxes in storage and couldn't find it. Oh well, cowboys are awesome too.”

“Yeah, but Dean you're a toy cowboy,” Sam wasn’t able to hide the smile that time.

He sent Sam a glare before turning back to you, “I’m still a cowboy and a sheriff, I can still protect the princess here. All ready?”

“Yep, I’m good to go.”

You rode in the back with Jess, Dean pouting up front because Sam decided to take his own car instead of riding in Dean’s. Jess was telling you Sam didn’t want to dress up at all, but she was able to talk him into Danny since it was his own clothes except for the leather jacket and just some hair dye and gel.

Arriving at Jess’ friends you and Dean followed behind as they led the way to the barn. They had definitely put a lot of work into the decorations. There were pumpkins and jack-o’-lanterns everywhere. Some real, some plastic and other scary Halloween creatures along with orange lights strung all around.

There was a dance floor with the DJ already playing and round tables and chairs set up around the floor and a buffet in the back.

You had never been to a Halloween party this big before. Jess introduced you and Dean to some of her friends who Sam already knew. Dean grabbed the two of you drinks and you sat down at a table taking everything in. This was a little more than you were expecting.

Sam found you a short time later, Jess was ready to go through the haunted woods they had set up and wanted to know if you two wanted to join.

“I’m game. How about you, Y/N? Sheriff Dean will protect you.”

“Who can turn that down?” Scary things weren’t your favorite, but you had a feeling if you said no Dean wouldn’t have gone either and you didn’t want him to miss out. Justin had hated how some things would scare you, and you wouldn’t want to do something. According to him you would ruin his fun, you weren’t going to do that to Dean. If you were with the three of them it shouldn’t be too bad.

Wrong, wrong, oh so wrong! You were going to have nightmares for a month after that. Most of the actors scaring you had come from the front or side, so you had ended up in the back hiding behind Dean to avoid everyone. Jess had turned around to say something to you when you noticed her eyes getting bigger. Quickly turning around you were certain they could have heard your scream in Ohio. There was a creepy looking person behind you wearing a mask with a white face, green teeth and red eyes holding a giant knife above your head. You never heard him come up or had any idea he was following you.

Hearing you scream Dean turned and pulled you close to his chest and then turned the two of you back around so you were no longer facing that character. He kept you close until you were out of the woods. When you went back to the barn he took you over to your seat before grabbing you some water. Kneeling down in front of you, his green eyes carefully looking you over.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.”

“You want to try that again? Especially since you are still shaking?

“I’m really sorry. I’m not the biggest fan of scary things. That really caught me off guard.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to ruin it for anyone else. I’ll be fine, really.”

“Sweetheart, we need to work on your communication skills. First that bar, now this. If something is going to affect you like this, you gotta say something.”

“I’m okay, really. Sorry to ruin it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. Sit here a minute I’ll be back.” Dean walked off coming back a few minutes later with some food for both of you.

Sitting next to Dean you stared at the plate he put in front of you before talking.

“Justin took me to Cedar Point one day with some friends of his, all other couples. I’m terrified of heights and dropping too, he knew this beforehand. I’m more of a spin me girl, as long as it’s not too far off the ground. They were all excited about going on the biggest coaster there, I told them I would watch everyone’s stuff while they went. This one takes your picture on the way down, one of the girls said if I wasn’t there some stranger would be in the picture with all of them. Justin took me aside and said when I don’t participate in these things it makes him look bad and ruins his good time. I should be a better girlfriend and do what he wants.”

“I would really like to introduce your ex to my fist. If something is bothering you, I really want you to speak up, no matter what, okay.”

“Okay, thanks Dean.”

When Sam and Jess caught back up to you, she pulled you out to the dance floor with her since her fiancé wasn’t interested. The guys watched as the two of you enjoyed yourselves.

Arriving back at your apartment that night, Dean followed you in to make sure you were going to be alright. You assured him you would be fine. What you didn’t tell him was you were going to be sleeping with the lights on tonight. He did a quick check of your apartment before going back across the hall.

Halloween was the following Friday, Meg invited you over to her and Cas’ place to hang out while they handed out candy to the trick or treaters. Cas had also invited Dean, Sam and Jess. He must have told Dean you were coming because Dean offered to drive you over with them.

The phone in your pocket started going off snapping you out of your daydreams, “Hello.”

“Hey Y/N, are you still home?”

“Yeah, why what’s up Dean?”

“I’ve been knocking on your door for a few minutes now, everything okay?”

“Yeah,” looking down you saw the time on your watch. “I’m sorry I lost track of time. I was sitting on the patio and didn’t hear you.” Rushing inside you locked the door behind you before quickly letting Dean in.

“Sorry, let me grab these and I’m good to go.” Grabbing your Halloween sweatshirt and the two containers sitting on your counter you were headed back to the door.

“What’s in there?”

“Oh I got bored last night and made some Halloween sugar cookies and pumpkin cake bars with apple cider glaze for today.”

Dean just looked at you as you rode the elevator down to meet Sam and Jess, “What is that look for?”

“Well, are you going to give me one?” You were a little lost and just stared back. “Oh sorry, forgot the magic words, trick or treat. May I have my treat now?” He asked, pointing to the containers.

“Oh sorry, sure, the bars are a little crumbly, but you can have a cookie now.

He took a big bite of the orange pumpkin shaped cookie. “It’s not your apple pie, but it’s very good, sweetheart.”

The guys disappeared into the basement when you arrived, apparently there was some horror movie marathon on, you were just fine avoiding that. You three ladies hung out in the living room so you would hear kids coming to the door, and watched the Halloweentown movies on TV. Meg and Jess compared wedding notes and talked about their different frustrations. Jess and Sam were getting married in July.

You were happy for your friends, but if you were being honest, also a little jealous. They had found great guys, been with them for years, now they were getting ready to walk down the aisle to them. You had thought by the time you were 27 you would be settling down too. Instead you were swearing off dating right now. Your Mr Right seems to have taken some wrong turns somewhere and wouldn’t ask for directions. Apparently you zoned out from the conversation because both girls were looking at you. “Sorry, what’s up?”

“I was saying I’m not sure I would be cut out for the matron of honor duties when you get married. We all know I don’t have the patience. You could have Jess, and we know Sam would be the best man, it would work out great.”

Yep, you definitely missed something. “Wait, when and who am I marrying, and why is Sam already the best man?”

“Really Y/N?” Meg giving you her best bitch face, “when you and Dean get married.”

“You guys make such a great couple! I’m so glad he found you! Lisa was just awful to him from the start, and to cheat on him like that.”

Lisa must be the reason he left Kansas, no one mentioned her name before. “Guys we’re just friends, we aren’t a couple or even dating. Neither one of us want to get back out there right now.”

“Y/N, you can’t let Justin ruin your chance at happiness, it’s been over four months now. At some point you need to get back out there. Deano is one of the good ones, you are going to regret it if you let him go.”

“Meg, Dean doesn’t want to date anyone either. We really are just friends, just hanging out.”

When you walked away to hand out candy, Meg turned to Jess, “any idea how long those two are going to stay in denial about how they feel?” Jess just shook her head as they both stared after you.

Part 3

Thank you for reading!

Tags- @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278 @fantasydevil2002

Falling For You tags- @halesandy @abuavnee @hearteyes-j2 @vicmc624 @440mxs-wife @wonder-cole

#dean x female reader #dean winchester #supernatural #FallingForYou #dean x reader

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nothing-but-dreams · 3 years

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Raised From Darkness, We Deserve the Light

SPNDBCC (By @foundfamily4eva): Part 6- Destiel / Part 8- Love Confession Dean/Cas, 2.9k, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Angst to Fluff Summary: On the heels of losing Cas, and not being able to speak his truth, Dean goes on a mission to rescue Cas from the Empty. Things quickly go awry, and Dean has to fight to save the man he loves. AO3: Link

It was pitch black, the roar of thunder filled the nothingness like a cosmic being screaming a warning, and Dean felt like he was falling through time itself. He should’ve expected such, seeing as the Empty was, in fact, a cosmic being, and it was pissed that it couldn’t be left alone.

Dean took a shot at a spell he found in one of the old Men of Letters books. They said they used the spell to resurrect a demon who they needed information from. It wasn’t super specific, but Dean figured if it could get a demon out of the Empty, it could also work for an angel.

As he lit the ring of holy oil, a rift appeared, similar to the one that let them travel to purgatory and apocalypse world, but this one was black. Before he could figure out the next step, he was sucked into the void, and found himself falling endlessly through the Empty.

He hit something with a thud. He’d call it the ground, but it wasn’t. Everything around him was darkness. It fell silent. There was no more wind, no thunder, no distant calamity. Dean wished he had a map. Or a flashlight. Or a more thought out plan, because he really only thought this through up to the point where he got here. All he cared about was finding Cas, and bringing him home. He figured he’d make the rest up along the way.

Dean stood up, unable to see or hear anything other than his own breathing.

“Cas!” he shouted, hoping maybe, somehow Cas would be able to hear him. There was nothing. So he shouted his name again, and again, and again, calling out into the void, hoping something would shout back. He was about to give up when he heard a whoosh.

“Dean?”

Dean turned around, and sure enough, in front of him stood Castiel. It was overwhelming, the sudden rush of emotions that shot through his body. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to say, but he didn’t know how. He was just as shocked standing before Cas now as he was when the Empty took him.

“Cas? Is it … is it really you?” Dean was skeptical, it seemed too easy to call out his name and that was enough to summon him.

“Yes. Are you really you?”

Dean tilted his head, waiting for an explanation.

“The Empty has been playing tricks on me ever since I got here. It’ll manifest as you and then make me think you were here to save me. Much like you are now.”

“No, it’s really good ol’, 50% scar tissue and cholesterol, me.”

“That’s good to hear. Well, not objectively, because the number one killer of humans is heart disease, and if you’re 50% cholesterol, that’s not-”

“Look,” Dean interrupted, realizing there was a very real possibility of Cas going off on a 30 minute tangent, “I don’t know how much time we have, so let’s try to figure out a plan to bust you out of here.”

“I don’t really know how to get out of here. Do you?” Cas asked, eyebrows raised.

Dean was flying by the seat of his pants. He realized, yeah, he really should’ve done a little more research on how to escape the Empty, but when an angel confesses their love to you, it can make you do crazy things.

“Not exactly. I kinda figured we’d go out the way I came in. Whatever, we’ll figure it out, but right now, we have to go.”

Dean went to grab Cas’s wrist, and in an instant, Cas’s body melted into a pile of black goo, and reemerged in the image of Meg, sitting on her throne.

“Dean, long time no see.”

“Meg?”

“No, this is just the face I’ve taken a liking to. But I figured you’d connect better with a certain lovesick angel. Gotta say, I’m pretty pissed you had to go and ruin my fun, because I could’ve toyed with you all day.”

“Where’s Cas?”

“All business, no play. Got it.” The Empty snapped its fingers and Cas appeared next to the throne. He was unharmed, but his eyes went wide and his jaw fell slack as soon as he saw Dean.

“Cas!” Dean tried to run to the angel, but he was frozen in place. It didn’t seem like Cas could move either.

“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast there lover boy. I know you want E.T. here to return home, but since I have him, I want to make a deal.”

Dean’s jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. Evil sons of bitches always wanted to make deals, and every time Dean said yes, he’d end up screwed over in the long run. But what the hell? This was for Cas.

“What do you want?”

“I’ll give you your precious angel, if you hold up the bargain that Death promised me.”

“And what was that?”

“It’s loud.” The Empty waved its hand and a cacophony of tortured screams echoed through the void. “They were all sleeping. And when they sleep, I sleep. But you, and the angel, and God kept coming in, and dragging people out. Now all they do is scream and I’m sick of it.”

“Sorry about your beauty sleep, but I don’t really see how that’s my problem.”

“Oh, you don’t?” With another snap of the Empty’s fingers, Cas fell to his knees, hunched over in pain, and started vomiting up blood. “Because I can do this for the rest of eternity, Dean.”

Unable to watch Cas suffer any longer, Dean gave in.

“Fine, I’m in. What do you need me to do?”

The Empty snapped its fingers, and Cas went back to normal.

It explained to Dean that in order for there to be peace in the Empty, there needed to be no more unwelcome guests, and no more resurrections. The Empty would be the only one with the power to let things in or let things out. In order to do that, he would need to close the rift to the Empty, forever.

It was a simple spell, in that it was only a few ingredients, but Dean didn’t want to put his trust in another bad guy. Cosmic entities were high up on his don’t-mess-with list.

In order to close the rift, Dean would have to take the Empty’s plasma, mix it with holy oil and demon blood, use the mixture to draw a devil’s trap around the rift while it was still open, then set the sigil on fire. It seemed doable, but there was a catch. There was always a catch. The Empty wouldn’t return Cas back to Earth until the spell was complete.

If he agreed, there was a risk that the Empty would keep Cas trapped in there forever. That just wasn’t a risk Dean was willing to take. Luckily, he had a plan B.

“No deal,” Dean said, pulling an angel blade from his pocket.

“Is that your plan? Attack me with an angel blade? That’s cute, Dean. But I’m the Empty. I rule over fallen angels, remember, that’s not going to work on me.”

“That might be so,” Dean said, throwing the angel blade at the Empty, watching as it landed in its chest, “but an angel blade bonded with pieces of Death’s Scythe? That’s Kryptonite.”

When Dean found the spell that would let him into the Empty, the Men of Letters also included a section on how to slow the Empty down. If you were able to cut the Empty with the blade of Death’s Scythe, it would send the Empty back to the depths of its abyss where it would have to reform. When Billie attacked him and Cas, she broke off a couple small pieces of her blade, which Dean later found in the hallway. He figured if he could weld the two metals together, it would work.

As the Empty melted and vanished into the void, Dean stared, shocked. His plan actually worked. It wasn’t a sure thing, about a 50/50 chance, and considering the other option was him and Cas being murdered, he was glad to see his gamble paid off.

“Alright, let’s go.” Dean grabbed his blade, and ran with Cas in a direction he could only hope was correct. They didn’t get very far before the ground began to quake beneath them. “What the hell is that?”

“What the hell is right,” a voice grumbled as it materialized into a human form. It was followed by another, and another, appearing from nowhere.

“Demons,” Cas said, turning in circles, realizing he and Dean were quickly becoming surrounded. “Run.”

Both men sprinted into the darkness, but were quickly tackled by a group of demons. Dean and Cas fought, punching and wrestling the demons. It seemed like every time they escaped and were able to cover some ground, more demons found them.

They ran and fought their way through the Empty, until they found it. They could see the glow of the rift in the distance, they were so close, but demons kept finding them, and they were intent on keeping them trapped in the Empty forever.

Cas fought the best he could, but with his powers all but gone, he didn’t have much to draw from. The odds were against him. Luckily, Dean was able to kill the demons, with the help of his blade, but not before they pummeled Cas.

Dean kneeled down next to Cas, terrified by the sight of blood spilling from his mouth. This was bad. Dean tried to help Cas get back on his feet, but Cas shook his head, staying put.

“I’m too weak,” Cas said, wincing as his words emphasized the pain of his bruised ribs. “You have to go without me.”

“Cas, don’t do this.”

The ground rumbled again, and the pounding of demon footsteps drew closer. There wasn’t time to argue.

“This is where I belong, Dean. You still have a chance to save yourself.”

“No. Not this time. We’re so close. I’m not leaving you behind.”

“Must you be so stubborn, Dean? You can still make it.” Cas’s voice rumbled with frustration. “Go.”

Dean recognized instantly that that was not a request, but an order. He didn’t care. He knew how this played out once, saw first hand the miserable fall out of it all, and as long as he still had his own free will, he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“Not without you,” Dean said, reaching his hand out again to try to help Cas. Cas knocked it away, overcome with anger.

“Damn it, Dean, why won’t you just go!”

“Because I love you, Cas!” Shock hit Dean as the words left his mouth. Even though he knew Cas felt the same way, it still somehow felt too heavy, too intimate to actually speak into existence. It felt like his soul was an open wound, raw and exposed. He turned his gaze to the ground, trying to compose himself. He had to keep it together if he was going to get them back to Earth. “So don’t you ask me to leave you, because I can’t do that. We’re both getting out of here, or we’re both dying here, and those are the only two options, got it?”

Cas nodded, the faint hint of a smile forming. “Got it.”

Two demons caught up with them, and set their sights on Cas. Dean could see the bloodlust in their eyes, and attacked them before they could make their move. He made quick work of them, stabbing them and sending them to wherever demons go when they die in the Empty. He didn’t care. All that mattered was that they were gone, and he could get Cas to safety.

Dean slid his arm around Cas, lifting him up. Cas was right, he was weak. He had a limp, and he was bleeding, but Dean could handle it.

“I got you, buddy. Don’t worry.”

Dean picked Cas up into a fireman’s carry, more demons charging toward them in the distance, and with the last bit of strength he had, he ran into the rift.

They landed back in the bunker, and Dean knew he didn’t have much time. He grabbed the container of holy oil he used earlier and poured it into a bowl. He pulled the altered angel blade from his pocket and used it to stir the mixture. It had both plasma from the Empty, and demon blood on it. Two birds with one stone. Hopefully.

“Hang in there, Cas, alright. It’s almost over,” Dean said, drawing a devil’s trap with the oil around the still open rift. He struck a match, and dropped it on the oil, watching the sigil burst into tall flames.

The devil’s trap began to glow before shooting a beam of light up to the ceiling. The light pulsed for a second, then swallowed the rift as it contracted and disappeared. The fire went out, leaving nothing but the faint wisps of smoke in its wake.

The bunker was quiet. Dean and Cas looked around, there was no sign of the Empty, no sign that any angels or demons had followed them back. It was just the two of them, alone.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Dean grabbed some bandages and rubbing alcohol, despite Cas’s objection to leave him be and that he didn’t need to be fussed over. He carefully cleaned his wounds, and bandaged up the really bad cuts.

As Dean cleaned the blood from the corner of Cas’s mouth, his hand resting gently on his chin, the pricking tickle of peach fuzz against his fingers, he looked into Cas’s eyes, and swore he could see the rest of his life right there.

“Cas, there’s something I have to tell you, man.”

“No, Dean, it’s fine. You don’t have to-“

“Just let me say this.” Dean took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to focus on all the reasons why he needed to say this, instead of the voice telling him to keep his mouth shut. “When you told me you loved me, I didn’t know what to say. There was so much happening, and there just wasn’t enough time.”

There was a tightening in the back of Dean’s throat, and God damn it, he didn’t want to cry, but when you’re unearthing something that’s been buried for decades, it hurts like hell.

“Cas, you mean more to me than I can even say. It’s so hard for me to admit that, because everyone I care about dies, and I can’t handle losing you again. Every single time you left me, I fell apart. And I know you don’t think that’s true, because I never told you, but honestly, it was just because I was scared. I was scared of my own feelings, I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same way about me, I was scared you couldn’t feel that way about me. And then you said it, and it was like my world turned on its head. It was everything I wanted, and everything I was so sure I couldn’t have all at once. I didn’t even have a chance to process any of it before you were just… gone.”

Dean took Cas’s hands into his own, both of their eyes brimming with tears. This time Dean knew in the back of his head that no one was coming to ruin his happiness, even if his heart couldn’t fully accept it yet. He knew he was safe with Castiel, the angel, who out of many options, chose to love. The angel who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. The angel who saw the best in him, when he only saw the worst in himself. The angel who gave up an army, rebelled against heaven, gave up his own life so many times for one man.

“So, say it to me again, so I can give you the answer that you deserve.”

Cas smiled, tears falling down his cheeks. He had hoped for years, that this moment would be a reality, but he, much like Dean, didn’t think it possible. But here he was, holding hands with the human who made him question order and obedience. The human who felt things so deeply, and loved with all his heart. The human who changed him, and how he saw the world, and the world itself.

“Dean,” Cas began, happiness filling his being. His smile, full of pure joy. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas.”

Without hesitation, and because he felt like he couldn’t hold himself back even one more second, Dean pulled Cas in close and kissed him. The too-rough passion of it, as if their lips found their soulmate, was so much better then what either of them imagined. The wax and wane of their breaths slipping between tongues— a song to say “yes” to when a lover asks if they can have this dance. It was a gentle surrender to bliss, a white flag they both wished to wave for far too long.

In that moment, with nothing more between them, no more lies, no more doubt, they both got to experience a moment of true happiness. They got to experience each other. No consequences. No punishment. Just true, honest, peace.

Their voices were no longer silenced by the forces they thought held dominion over them. This was not the end of their story, but the beginning. They were two magnificent beings, brought together not by fate, but by free will, finally being able to live the life they deserved— one full of hope, endless possibilities, and knowing that the person they loved, loved them in return.

#Destiel #Fanfic #DeanCas #Supernatural #Fanfiction #SPNDBCC #Dean Saves Cas From The Empty #Hurt/Comfort #Love Confession #First Kiss #THEY GET TO BE HAPPY #Dean Is Bi #Dean Loves Cas #Cas Loves Dean #REQUITED Love #Major Character Undeath #Writing

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drop-of-infinity · 3 years

Text

I am once again continuing that one Destiel fic

This part is canon compliant with season 8 and it was thee most fun thing ever to write

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

<><><><><><><><><>

Chapter 5: season 8

{“Where’s the angel?” It was all he said, all he thought nowadays. Purgatory was pure because he knew what his goal was. Find Cas. Escape. Find Cas. Escape. Then there was Benny, who had become Dean’s friend more quickly then he wanted to admit. Well, friend wasn’t exactly the word for them. It wasn’t like Dean hadn’t slept with men before, but this was one of the only times he’d done it sober, and the only time he’d done it with a vampire. Purgatory was pure, and he was just himself down here. It was making him face some things he didn’t want to examine too closely, such as the way he felt about Cas. On the other hand, he could explain it away by saying it was just him and Benny down here, and Benny provided some things he missed about the outside world, but that wasn’t the whole truth. It didn’t matter really, he was just there to find Cas. “Where’s. The angel.”

{“Dean.”

“Cas! Damn it’s good to see you. Nice peach fuzz!” They had finally found him. After months, Cas was here in front of him. Dean hugged him tightly, because he was incredibly relieved and couldn’t quite control his impulse to touch. His skin ached with the need for it. The feel of Cas under his fingers was intoxicating, but the angel was still, unmoving, so Dean made himself step back. As he stared at Cas, subconsciously checking the angel for injuries, it suddenly hit him. Well, suddenly wasn’t really fair. This had been a long time coming, but it took the fear of purgatory and the relief of seeing Cas again for Dean to finally let himself see it. His breath hitched as he let the weight of it sink into his bones. Oh. I’m in love with him.

{“I have a price on my head, and I’ve been trying to stay one step ahead of them to... to keep them away from you.” Dean deserved the truth at least, so Cas gave it to him. As happy as he was to see him again-and he was so happy he felt like he might explode-he was also terrified. He had to keep Dean safe. He could feel the phantom touch of Dean hugging him, and was glad he had restrained himself from returning it. If he’d let himself hug back, all kinds of dams might have broken. Dean was still safest far away from him.

{“Cas!”

“Dean!” Dean was trying so hard to pull him out, and Cas could feel it slowly working, but... Dean’s hand was feverishly warm around his and his aching heart was easing, and he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Dean. He deserved to die. As the realization hit him, that he was meant to be in purgatory... Cas let go.

Blood Brother

{“Why’d you do it Dean? Resurrect me?” Benny’s question was fair. Dean had been wondering about that himself. As he often did these days, he found himself remembering purgatory. Dean was running desperately, Cas and Benny right behind him. The leviathans were coming. Benny was right. Cas was going to get them all killed. Dean didn’t care. He was fighting one of the monsters, managed to chop its head off, then looked over at Cas. A leviathan was kneeling over him, and Dean was too far away to do anything. He felt his vision tunnel. NO He thought frantically, I CAN’T LOSE HIM AGAIN. Suddenly, Benny was there, slicing down at the creature. Cas was safe. Dean shook himself back to the present and watched Benny climb into the boat. Why did I resurrect you? He thought, because you protected what I love.

{“Hello Dean.” Cas almost couldn’t force the words out. Face to face with Dean again, all the things he’d wanted to say went out the window. He didn’t know why he wasn’t still in purgatory, and he knew Dean would have questions he couldn’t answer, but right now the feeling of those familiar green eyes staring into his own was enough. It was everything.

{“Better?” Dean stared openly. Having Cas back hadn’t really sunk in until that point. With his torn clothes and beard, he had looked far too much like the Cas in the doomed 2014 future Zacharia had once shown Dean. It was terrifying. He’d asked Cas not to change after that, and seeing the angel so different... well. But cleaned up, shaved, and with his coat back? Cas looked like himself again. And himself looked... good, Dean realized somewhat giddily. Really good. He mentally slapped himself. Keep it together Winchester.

{“Cas!” Dean rushed over to steady him, placing his hand on Cas’s shoulder in a mirror of their first meeting. The angel leaned into it as Dean drew his hand away, too dazed to realize what he was doing. Angels didn’t usually need physical touch the way humans did, but then again Cas wasn’t really an ordinary angel. He snapped out of it and leaned back, although he wished he could do the opposite. The last thing he wanted was to make Dean uncomfortable.

{“You could have gotten yourself killed, why didn’t you wait for me?” Dean knew that the anger was a cover for fear, but anger was easier to deal with. He just got Cas back. He couldn’t lose him again. Dean was starting to realize how deeply he needed Cas. It terrified him to his core. Dean Winchester, sarcastic lady’s man, his father’s son... had truly, terribly, fallen in love with an angel. And the angel could never love him back.

{“For failing you like I fail every other god forsaken thing I care about, I don’t need it!” Cas gazed at him openly. Dean truly believed this was his fault, and Cas needed to fix that, but first... he let the hunter’s words sink in. It’s always a bit of a shock to realize that Dean cares about him. On some level he knows it, but on another level, Dean is beautiful in every way, and Castiel is an angel who deserves purgatory. They are nowhere near on the same level, and yet... Dean still cares about him. Cas lets the warmth of it spread through his chest, just for a moment.

Hunter Heroici

{“I’ll watch over you.” He’d done it every night in purgatory after all. There had been such constant danger, Dean had seemed much more comfortable around Cas. He talked to him more honestly, touched him more freely. All Cas wanted was to keep Dean safe but- “that’s not gonna happen.” Cas frowned at his hands. I guess that was only in purgatory.

{“I’m afraid I might kill myself.” Dean felt panic rising in his throat. Every time he was apart from Cas now, his brain dissolved into a cycle of I can’t lose him I can’t lose him I can’t- and he had to cut himself off. There wasn’t time for that, wasn’t time for his feelings. Especially right now, when Cas clearly needed him. If only he could see himself through Dean’s eyes.

{“He’s uh.. he’s not answering.” They had barely seen Cas since he killed Samandriel. Dean was trying not to worry, and he knew Cas could take care of himself, but he couldn’t help it. After spending so much time together in purgatory, failing to get Cas back, finally having Cas with him again, and now this... Dean could only take so much. Life altering realizations aside, Cas was still the best friend he’d ever had. He missed him.

Goodbye Stranger

{“You’re ready.” Castiel stood slowly, surveying his carnage. Hundreds and hundreds of dead Deans that he had killed with his own hands. The part of him that Naomi could never quite control, the part that wasn’t Castiel but Cas, threw itself around inside him, sobbing. He couldn’t kill Dean, he needed Dean, he lo- Castiel cut that thought off quickly. He could kill Dean. He just had. Over, and over, and over.

{“if he’s so sketchy then why were you praying to him?” Dean glared at Sam. Maybe because I’m in love with him bitch, he thought, then stopped, terrified. He couldn’t tell Sam he was... whatever. Their dad-Dean clamped down on his own train of thought. Sam wasn’t like that. He glanced sideways at his brother, and saw that he looked a little too knowing. Dean forced himself not to panic. Sam didn’t know anything, and he didn’t need to. Dean didn’t have to think about that right now anyway. The important thing was figuring out what was up with Cas.

{“You really think we can trust uhh... Megstiel?” Sam glanced at him with that look on his face again and Dean regretted his word choice. And his tone. It wasn’t like he was jealous of Meg or anything, he was just... jealous of Meg. Fuck.

{“I... I won’t hurt Dean.” “Yes. You will. You are.” Cas fought against Naomi as hard as he could. He wouldn’t hurt Dean, he couldn’t hurt Dean. And yet as he struggled, he could feel his blade slicing, could feel the hunter’s blood under his hands. He was managing to hold back, or Dean would already be dead, but it wasn’t enough.

{“I need you.” Cas froze. Naomi screamed inside his head, ordering him to kill Dean, but he didn’t move. He needs me. Cas pushed desperately at the walls of Naomi’s control. He couldn’t give up now. Dean needed him.

{As Cas reached towards him, placed a hand on his face, Dean leaned into it. His skin felt tight with the need to touch Cas, who was about to kill him after all. And if he was about to die, what was the point of denying himself that touch? He only wished he’d been brave enough to say... it. Except... “I’m so sorry Dean.” Cas didn’t kill him and he was left with the phantom of soft fingertips on his face, and the knowledge of what he had been ready to accept as his dying moment.

{As Cas reaches out towards Dean and sees him flinching away, he remembers why he believes he deserves purgatory. He cups Dean’s face, gently, tenderly, as he heals him. Dean leans his whole cheek into his palm even as he protests. Hours later, while Cas sits on that bus, he can still feel Dean’s face under his hand. He sighs, and closes his eyes, trying to ease the touch-starved ache in his nerves, something, of course, that angels should not be able to have.

Taxi Driver

{“I know. You’re hoping Castiel will return to you. I admire your loyalty. I only wish he felt the same way.” Dean felt his blood boiling. This bitch had brainwashed Cas, and was now hunting him. Despite the fact that Cas had left again, not trusting Dean enough to stay, nothing was going to hurt his angel as long as he was still kicking. Not your angel, a voice that sounded almost like Naomi whispered in his head. Never your angel.

The Great Escapist

{“in the words of a.... good friend. Bite me.” Thinking of Dean made Cas’s chest feel tight with longing, but it also made him strong. Dean would want him to keep fighting, so he would. He didn’t deserve to be here, but if he could do something good while he was on Earth anyway, he would.

Clip Show

{“Bolting off with the angel tablet and then losing it because you didn’t trust me? You didn’t trust me.” Cas was startled by the anger in Dean’s voice. No matter what he did, he always seemed to end up hurting him. Dean always got angry, and Cas never knew how to fix it. His heart clenched.

{“Just stay here!! and... get better.” Dean knew he couldn’t stay angry at Cas for long, but it hadn’t quite worn off yet, and the last thing he needed was to be thinking about his mixed feelings on a case. Cas needed to stay here, to stay safe. If he was holed up in the bunker, maybe the voice in Dean’s head that was alway screaming at him-to grab Cas and never let go, to make sure nothing could harm him-would shut up.

Sacrifice

{“Anything?” Dean tried to ignore the heat spreading through his side at how close Cas was sitting. It was a completely empty bar, but the guy still didn’t totally understand personal space. Dean thought of how easy it would be to lean over and kiss him, then spent a few minutes trying very hard to stop thinking about it.

{“How about the next one’s on me.” Dean stared at the two men, feeling panicky and self conscious. Cas was already getting up. To find the cupid, that was what they were there for. He shook his head at his own distractedness and followed Cas.

————

{Dean’s heart feels like it’s going to fly out of his chest. He holds Sam and screams for Castiel and tries to stay sane.

{Cas watches the angels fall one by one, and aches for them. He has been falling for so long, he never had this moment-at least not physically-of rocketing down in flames.

Cas is human again, and Dean is trying to keep his brother alive, and there is so much to do in so little time.

#destiel #supernatural #spn #deancas #castiel #supernatural thoughts #spn thoughts #deancas thoughts #destiel thoughts #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas fanfic #deancas fic #spn season 8 #supernatural season 8

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petrichoravellichor · 3 years

Text

Written for Day 19 of the Supernatural Deserved Better Creative Challenge (prompt: angels and demons).

Title: An Angel and a Demon Walk Into a Bar

Characters: Gabriel & Meg

Rating: T

Warnings: mild alcohol consumption (by angel/demon standards, at least; no one drinks enough to get drunk)

Summary: After escaping from the Empty, Gabriel wanders into a bar, where it turns out he’s not the only one back from the dead.

(Read on Ao3)

********************

Gabriel needed a drink.

A real one, not just something he could conjure up himself. It’d been a little under a week since he’d woken up in the middle of a field, dazed as all get-out and weaker than he’d ever been, but somehow alive. He’d done it. He’d actually gotten out of the Empty.

At first, Gabriel hadn’t known exactly how he’d managed it. He remembered dying—getting stabbed by an alternate version of your brother in a parallel universe wasn’t exactly a forgettable experience—and then he was waking up to some sort of explosion somewhere he’d quickly realized had to be the Empty, because hellooo, he was dead. There’d been a lot of commotion then, with Gabriel and literally thousands of other angels and demons clambering and fighting at once as a loud, pained voice screamed for them to BE QUIET, and the next thing he knew, he was lying face-down in a puddle of mud, alone except for a nearby cow. Gabriel had stumbled along until he’d found a small motel in the middle of nowhere, where he’d used what little power he could muster to charm a free room off the oblivious owner and then collapsed into bed the minute he’d locked the door behind him.

A few days later, he’d jolted awake when angel radio had all but exploded in his head. Word on the wire was that his nephew, Jack, had replaced Gabriel’s dad as Heaven’s new big kahuna, and apparently the entire world had been gone for a while but Gabriel had slept through it, and wait, Dean Winchester had finally pulled his head out of his repressed bisexual ass and was last seen kissing the shit out of Gabriel’s younger brother Castiel, who was also back from the Empty?! Whaaat???

Needless to say, it had been a lot to take in. Gabriel had spent the better part of the day listening intently and muttering “holy shit” as he caught himself up on all that had happened while he’d been out of the picture. When at last it seemed that there was no more new information, he’d dialed down the volume and decided that yeah, he was long overdue for a drink. He vaguely remembered seeing a bar on the other side of the motel parking lot, so he headed in that direction, opting to walk the short distance instead of flying—he was feeling much better after a few days of rest but still nowhere near full power, and there was no sense wasting energy.

As he drew near the bar, however, he noticed that although the lights were on and country music was drifting out into the night, the front window had been shattered; a few pieces of jagged glass were still hanging in place, but the rest was nothing but shining shards on the ground outside. Gabriel paused; then, feeling more curious than concerned, he crept up to the sill and peered inside.

The place looked pretty much like what Gabriel had been expecting, with bad lighting and wood-paneled walls and a couple of old pool tables off to one side. At first, he thought it was deserted; then he noticed a lone figure at the bar.

It was a demon, but not a particularly powerful-looking one. She was sitting on a barstool, a bottle of Jack in front of her and a glass in her hand as she gazed off into space, nursing her drink. Gabriel reached out with his mind, quickly scanning the premises for any potential friends the demon might have brought with her, but no, she was the only one of her kind anywhere in the area. If push came to shove, Gabriel had no doubts that even in his current state, he could still best her in combat; however, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. After all, it had been a hell of a day in a hell of a week, and he’d come wanting a drink, not a fight. He headed over to the door and walked inside.

The demon must have sensed his presence, because she looked up the moment he crossed the threshold. Her eyes flashed black momentarily before snapping back to her vessel’s natural brown; however, when she addressed Gabriel, she sounded more annoyed than afraid. “If you’re here to kill me,” she said, fixing him with a glare, “at least let me finish my drink first.”

Gabriel arched a brow: she might not have been more than a run-of-the-mill black-eyed demon, but she had spunk; he’d give her that. “Simmer down, kiddo,” he drawled, “I’m not here to kill you, just looking for a drink.” He gestured toward the bar. “Mind if I join you?”

The demon raised a brow of her own, apparently surprised by his response, but eventually, she shrugged and turned back to her whiskey. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks.” Gabriel headed behind the counter, rummaging around until he found a clean glass; he plopped in two ice cubes and poured himself a drink. “Where’s the bartender, anyway?”

The demon waved dismissively in the direction of the restrooms. “Knocked out and tied up. He’ll be fine.”

“Mm, and the front window?”

“There was a biker gang when I first got here. They got handsy and didn’t want to leave.” She smiled darkly, adding, “That is, until I threw the biggest one out the window. They got the hell out pretty fast after that.”

Gabriel snorted. “Nice.”

“‘Nice’?” the demon repeated, then scoffed. “Thought you were an angel.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers, manifesting a stool on his side of the bar; he sat down across from her, drink in hand. “I am. So?”

“So, last I checked, your kind and my kind didn’t exactly see eye to eye on what constitutes nice.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t see eye to eye with lots of people, especially not when they’re dicks. Sounds like the biker guys were, so yeah, nice. Besides,” he added, leaning forward with a conspiratorial smile, “I’ve done way worse.”

The demon regarded him, then smirked. “Nice.”

“So,” Gabriel said, taking a sip of his drink. “You got a name?”

“Meg. You?”

For a moment, Gabriel considered inventing an alias; after all, it was in his best interest to keep a low profile until he decided just how involved he wanted to be in this whole post-Dad Heaven business. Still, he wasn’t really in the mood for lying, and besides, he could always erase himself from Meg’s memory if he had second thoughts. “Gabriel.”

Meg narrowed her eyes. “As in the archangel?”

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” Gabriel said, flashing a grin; then, noting the wariness in Meg’s expression, he added, “Hey, I’m just here for a drink, remember? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say: I can’t kill you just by thinking about it.”

Gabriel snorted. “No offense, kiddo, but if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it before I even walked in. Suffice to say, I’m not thinking about it.” Then, seeing that she was still eying him suspiciously, he lowered his drink and looked at her frankly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Would you?”

“Sure. I’m not one to stay where I’m not wanted, and last I checked, whiskey bottles are pretty portable. Just say the words, and I’ll get out of that pretty blonde hair of yours.” He smirked, adding, “That is, unless you’d rather throw me out the window.”

Meg was silent for a moment, apparently weighing her options; eventually, however, she shook her head. “Whatever. Like you said, if you were gonna kill me, I’d already be dead. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Gabriel cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

"I mean that up until a few days ago, I’d been dead for years.”

Gabriel sat back on his stool. “No shit. You were there too?”

Meg gave him a confused look. “The hell do you mean?”

“In the Empty,” Gabriel clarified. “It’s where we go when we die. Whole bunch of black goo and eternal nothingness. That is, up till about a week ago, when the whole place went Chernobyl. Sound familiar?”

Slowly, Meg nodded. “Yeah. It does.”

“From what I’ve heard,” Gabriel continued, tapping his temple, “at least a couple of us got out, on your side and mine. Seems like the place stabilized eventually, though.”

“Any word on what caused it?”

Gabriel snorted; he reached for the whiskey and refilled both their glasses. “You ever hear of the Winchesters?”

********************

One hour and three-fourths of a bottle of whiskey later, and Gabriel had discovered that not only had Meg had close dealings with the Winchesters during the years leading up to her death, but she’d also apparently known his younger brother Castiel—and that, Gabriel gathered from the way Meg’s eyes softened when she asked about him, Castiel had been important to her, although she never explicitly said as much. Gabriel filled her in on everything she’d missed from the time Crowley had stabbed her up to the most recent updates he’d heard from angel radio, and by the time he was done, Meg was shaking her head in disbelief.

“Damn,” she said at last. “So, this Jack kid—Lucifer’s son—he’s the new God?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Tell me about it,” said Gabriel, swirling his drink. “Should be interesting, seeing as how he’s only three.”

“And Castiel.” Meg met Gabriel’s gaze. “He’s...with Dean now?”

“Yeah. Seems like it.”

Meg nodded, looking down at the bar. “Huh. And here I was thinking they’d just keep dancing around each other like a couple of idiots.” She let out a hollow sort of laugh and reached for the bottle of whiskey. “Serves me right for getting my hopes up.”

Gabriel studied her, the pieces clicking into place. “You had a thing for my brother.”

Meg’s jaw clenched, and she filled her glass all the way to the rim. “Not one I ever got to do much about,” she muttered, “thanks to Crowley.”

“I’m sorry,” said Gabriel, a little surprised by just how much he meant it.

Meg shrugged him off. “Yeah, well,” she replied, not meeting Gabriel’s gaze. “It’s not like it was ever gonna work out between us. He was always so caught up in whatever Dean was involved in, it wasn’t even funny. Besides, the hell would an angel want with a demon, anway.”

Gabriel found himself frowning; damn if there wasn’t a part of him that wanted to kick Castiel’s ass right about now. “For what it’s worth,” he said, leaning forward onto his forearms, “my brother never was the brightest bulb in the lamp; and regarding Dean, I once killed him over a hundred times just for kicks.”

That got Meg’s attention. “Really.”

“Yep, time loop, back before the whole Apocalypse thing went down. Took Sam forever to figure out what was going on and get them both out of it.” Gabriel smirked, adding, “And in the meantime, I got to play quirky death bingo with his older bro. Oh, and a few years later, I zapped them into TV Land for a bit. They looked like absolute idiots; it was fun.”

Meg looked at him for a moment, then scoffed and shook her head. “You’re really something, you know that?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Eh, I have my moments.”

And Meg, to his surprise, actually gave him a slight smile. “Apparently. So, feathers,” she said, raising her glass, “you going back to Heaven after this?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No way: too messy, and I’m not in the mood to help clean up. Figure I’ll keep lying low for a bit, then maybe see what things look like in a year or so. What about you? Hellward-bound?”

Meg scoffed. “Yeah, because I’m just dying to get stabbed the minute I walk in the door. No thanks. Thinking of just keeping to myself for now.”

Gabriel thought for a moment, then decided aw, the hell with it. “Need a place to stay?”

Meg shot him a look of what might have been amusement. “Why? You offering?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, yes I am." He nodded toward the front door. "I’ve got a good thing going on at that motel. If you want, I can set you up with a room while you figure out your next move.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. All I ask in return is that you keep the fact I’m alive to your smoking little self, because like I said, I’m looking to keep a low profile. So, what do you say?” Gabriel raised his drink as though to toast. “Deal?”

Meg studied him for a moment, then smiled. “Deal,” she said, and clinked their glasses together.

#spn gabriel #gabriel #archangel gabriel #meg masters #spn meg #spndbcc #megriel #meg x gabriel #gabriel x meg #spn #supernatural #spn spoilers #fanfiction #an angel and a demon walk into a bar #background destiel #my writing #spn rare pairs

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monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my · 4 years

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What We Lost and What We Have

Chapter 9: Wookies, warnings and homophobic grandpas

In which Jack’s sneak stat is a 2, Sam has a weird story about a wookie encounter, and everybody needs a pep talk.

TW’s for this chapter: Talk about past sibling death (not of a main character)

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AU somewhat inspired by Episode 2x20 - What Is and What Should Never Be, and the season 14 storyline concerning Jack’s illness.

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AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

Complete Tumblr Chapter List

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Jack spent almost the whole two hours or so Castiel was gone on his phone and part of Sam was elated.

He’d drafted the same email about corporate responsibility (for the proliferation of inaccurate information on rechargeable batteries) six times now. It was incredibly dull technical writing and he hadn’t been able to focus at all.

Every line of legal jargon he managed to type was interspersed with his mind screaming.

“Say something!”

Sam had come back to the hospital with a purpose, to be helpful to hold out the olive branch to Castiel and BE there for Jack.

But ‘there’ was all he was…

He had no idea what to say to Jack. The day before had been easy enough, everything had been one long train wreck fed by the intrinsic emotions that came with serious illness. But now that things had calmed down and everyone especially Jack was not on the verge of emotional collapse? He had no idea what Jack needed from him.

And outside of what Jack explicitly needed or wanted it wasn’t like Sam had a deep well of topics to draw upon for small talk..

‘What the hell did Sam have in common with a kid literally half his age?’

“What do you say to your estranged baby brother when at his age one of your main goals was keeping the hell away from him?”

It didn’t help that Jack himself seemed to suddenly become incredibly shy, only occasionally peeking at Sam sheepishly when he thought the man wasn’t looking…

“So you like… Star Wars?” Sam finally blurted after twenty long minutes of silence.

Jack blinked at Sam in confusion at the out of the blue question before glancing at the back of his themed phone case and flushing slightly.

“I… Yes?” Jack looked a little unsure.

Sam grabbed onto the subject, “Who’s your favorite character?”

Jack’s phone buzzed in his hand and the kid glanced between Sam and the screen nervously before setting it gingerly aside.

“I think… I think Finn is pretty cool?”

Sam suddenly realized his mistake, he knew absolutely nothing about the new movies, he’d been too busy to get around to watching any of them

“Oh that’s… cool… I used to have a Chewbacca plush when I was a little kid,” Sam tried instead.

There was a long moment with no noise but the passive whirring of one of the machines and a soft cough from Jack.

“Oh?” the teenager said politely.

“Yeah it was pretty cool, original too, apparently those things are worth a few hundred dollars now…”

‘What are you babbling about now Sam?’

Jack smiled and that made it seem worth it though.

“So do you collect stuff like that or something?” he asked curiously.

“Well no, it was kind of… destroyed?” Sam huffed a little sheepish.

“Destroyed?”

“Yeah… Like I said, I got it when I was a little kid, I chewed on the fabric weapons belt until it tore off and one day I left it outside and it rained so it got all mildew-y,“ Sam quickly explained fumbling for purchase with the Jack’s interest.

Jack pulled a face, "that’s too bad…”

“The final straw though was when Dean called it a moldy sloth and I hit him with it, he tried to take it away from me and it tore raining the carpet with mildew-y stuffing…” Sam chuckled to himself.

“That’s pretty destroyed,” Jack looked mildly grossed out.

Sam missed his cue to let it go.

“Thing was though even after all that I still didn’t want to throw the thing out, I was too attached, So at six I thought it was a great idea to put this damp mildewed furry thing in a pillowcase, tie the pillowcase shut and hide it in my bed’s box spring…”

Jack’s only response was to stifle another cough in his elbow.

“We didn’t find it again until my bed started smelling like mildew, somehow it spread into the wood of the box spring and the bottom of my mattress, and the wookie… well it was some other kind of furry when my dad finally pulled it out.”

Things were dead quiet and when Sam glanced back up at Jack, he looked uncomfortable, “O-oh?” Jack said diplomatically.

‘You… really overshare Sam, for fu-…’

“Yeah… it was… nasty, sorry, that was a long time ago.”

Jack’s eyebrows drew down a little and he looked rejected for a moment. Sam wondered if it was something that he’d said.

There was another few minutes of awkward silence before Jack’s phone buzzed again and he glanced nervously between it and Sam.

“Just… go ahead I’ll… “ Sam awkwardly tapped the side of his laptop and just like that they both went back to their designated devices as if nothing had been said.

Sam didn’t know how to talk to Jack, every happy childhood memory he had was from before Jack was born and didn’t include him, and even outside of that, he didn’t really know Jack’s personality, what made him smile, what bothered him… what he loved.

Jack seemed to be cautiously trying to connect too and somehow that made things worse, like they were both going for a high five and Sam kept awkwardly missing.

‘Trying to meet in a middle that might not even exist…’

Sam quickly went back to his emails and stayed with his head buried there until Castiel got back a while later.

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“I’m so, so sorry I fell asleep in the parking lot, Where’s Jack?” Castiel asked anxiously before the door even swung closed behind him..

He looked a lot better, his hair still damp but neatly combed and finally dressed down a little bit in a fresh shirt and no jacket.

“He’s fine,” Sam quickly placated, “the nurse just… took him for an X-ray of his arm. I think they wanted to put on a cast or something.”

The man relaxed a little and sighed going back to his spot beside the bed, “right… yes, they… mentioned they might do that today if the swelling was down… I…” He brushed back his hair wearily, “was everything alright while I was gone?”

Sam shrugged, “it was just like I said, nothing bad happened because you stepped away for a few minutes…”

Castiel shot him a look and for a moment Sam worried if he’d crossed a line but the man quickly relaxed again.

“I know you probably think I’m being… paranoid, and I don’t know, maybe I am, or maybe you just can’t understand this, but Jack…” Castiel’s eyes were far away, “I don’t want to take any chances with him…”

Sam felt the same mild discomfort he had for days now, seeing Castiel vulnerable just… felt wrong. The time away had done him good but for every bit less manic he looked now he looked ten times more exhausted.

“You’re right I really don’t get it…” Sam huffed. “I mean the way I see it he’s already in the safest place he could be.”

Castiel snorted sounding unconvinced.

“I but then again I’ve never been a parent so, guess I wouldn’t…” Sam paused, he was coming off all wrong, “I don’t know… what this is like for you.”

Castiel eyed him a little amused, “I didn’t know you even thought of me that way… I… I don’t want you to think I’m some nut but who doesn’t trust modern medicine…”

“I don’t, I’m sure your not…” Sam said quickly.

“It’s just…” Castiel rubbed at his face. “The doctors were doing the best they could when my sister died, sometimes it feels like “the best” still doesn’t mean much …”

Sam paused trying to figure out whether his next words would be welcome or get him another dirty look.

“I mean, I don’t really think things are that bad…”

‘Dirty look, it definitely got him a dirty look.’

Sam quickly switched gears, “what I mean is, Jack seems better today so maybe the doctors are on the right track. Or better yet this thing, whatever it is, is just sorting itself out…”

“You didn’t hear what the doctor said last night, you don't…” Castiel sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

“Don’t you have a job to get back to… in California?” Castiel muttered wearily.

For a moment, Sam felt affronted and maybe a little hurt, but there was no real malice in Castiel’s words and the message became clear.

'Change the subject…’

“I asked for some time off…” Sam shrugged, “most of our case prep work is done over the internet nowadays anyway…”

Some of the senior partners hadn’t been too happy about it if Mr. Roman’s rather passive aggressive “I hope your family matter clears up soon,” was anything to go by.

But none of the other junior partners seemed to mind at all…

'Probably glad to have a chance to get ahead and prove themselves…’

'Part of Sam wished he still cared, but lately…’

Castiel just nodded noncommittally.

“What about you… the high school?” Sam tried, “you’re a teacher right?, how’s that going without you?”

“There’s a substitute…” Cas said simply.

“Oh…” Sam screamed internally, he thought the man wanted a distraction but now it just felt like trying to keep up a conversation with a brick wall.

“I… already had the last few weeks of lessons planned out and review worksheets written up, so while I can’t be there right now, my classes should be… prepared.” Castiel muttered suddenly, seeming lost in thought, “That’s… one thing I’ve always prided myself on… being prepared…”

Sam caught the implication but decided not to feed into it.

“it’ll be okay…” Sam said simply.

Castiel blinked at him in confusion, “I know they will, Mr. Wyatt is an excellent substitute teacher.”

‘Okay maybe Sam was lost…’

He snorted further confusing Castiel.

“What?”

“Nothing…” Sam shook his head, “Jack… he… he told me he misses school.

Castiel blinked in surprise, he opened his mouth to ask something but before he could get the words out there was a knock at the door.

"Delivery,” a voice called.

Jack appeared in the doorway being wheeled in by the nurse Meg with a new violently blue cast on his arm and a sheepish look on his face.

“Jack,” Castiel smiled relieved earning him a nervous smile back from Jack.

He seemed much more stable on his feet than the day before when he climbed gingerly out of the wheelchair as the nurse re-hung the IV bags.

“They’re taking him off the oxygen for now,” the nurse said, her tone seemed considerably nicer now that Jack was awake.

'She probably had infinitely more patience for sick kids, than antagonistic asshole family members who just act like children…’

“It’s getting easier to breathe now,” Jack said brightly, even though his pronouncement was almost immediately broken up by wheezy coughing.

“That’s um… that’s great Jack,” Castiel said gently eyes still distracted back on the nurse.

'With a pang of amusement, Sam caught Jack carefully peeking at his phone beneath his blanket when he thought his uncle wasn’t watching.’

“So um… was everything alright?” Castiel asked the nurse, trying to keep his voice chipper and upbeat.

She blinked at him sardonically, “Nope, his wrist is definitely fractured.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed, “That’s not what I…”

She interrupted, “I know, but that’s all I really have to tell you, everything else is above my pay grade, you’ll have to wait on the doctor for any more papa bear.”

Castiel gave a frustrated huff glancing back at Jack who quickly dropped the covers back down over his phone and glanced around sheepishly.

'If Castiel noticed he didn’t say anything.’

“You wanna know my professional opinion on this?” the nurse quickly re-drew both men’s attention.

“I don’t know but I feel like you’re going to give it to me either way…” Castiel sighed.

“I can’t guess at what’s going on with your kid, or whether he’ll keep getting better or worse, I could get the hospital sued and lose my job and all that,” Meg shrugged, glancing back over at Jack who was sitting up in bed and playing with his phone “sneakily” under the covers again.

“But…” her voice softened, “he seems to be having a good day… so I’d say try to take today for what it is… and enjoy it.”

Sam wished her saying that did anything to calm the ripples of anxiousness in his stomach, a feeling that must be like waves breaking on the beach in Castiel…

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Dean wished he could say he changed his mind as soon as Sam walked out of the shop, but it took another day and a half…

He’d finished rebuilding the Cuevas’s Jeep’s engine block, changed a fuel filter on some Uni Kid’s car and an engine coil on another’s before he even looked back at his phone again.

No missed calls, no texts. Either everything was fine or Sam also didn’t want to talk to him.

'What else was new.’

Either way Dean refused to be the first one to call back. He’d meant what he said and if Sam wanted to act all pissy about it that was his business.

But by the next morning his familiar routine tasted like a Kahlua hangover in the back of his throat.

He was already in a bad mood at eight am when Jesse came to pick up his Jeep from the shop.

“I thought you were going to pick up this hunk of junk yesterday…” Dean scowled hands tucked in his pockets a little defensively.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed…” Jesse sounded bemused waving briefly over his shoulder at his husband waiting with the truck running.

“It would have been nice not to be in a time crunch, yeah…” Dean snorted, pulling out a beer from the mini fridge in the garage’s work area.

“Sorry man,” Jesse shrugged guiltily, “I got a call I couldn’t miss. I thought you said you weren’t busy anyway. Something come up?”

“Brother’s in town,” Dean could feel the man eyeing him concerned as he sipped his morning beer.

“You want one?” Dean offered half sarcastically.

“It’s eight Winchester,” Jesse said flatly.

Dean shrugged.

Jesse sighed pulling out his wallet and fishing out an envelope of cash to pay for the repair, “seriously man what’s eating you, 'cause I’ve met Sam and he doesn’t normally get under your skin like this.”

Dean said nothing just took the money and headed towards the office..

Jesse shook his head looking half amused half irritated following him, “look, me and Cesar are meeting with a few friends at Gabe’s to celebrate tonight, maybe come by if you’re feeling less pissy past nine…”

Dean snorted handing over the cash to the teenager behind the desk, “what are you a fourteen-year-old girl? I’m not 'pissy’.”

“You’re one of the pissiest person I’ve ever met Dean Winchester,” Jesse said with a good-natured smile.

“He’s right, you’re like, super pissy…” Claire remarked flatly counting the cash out into the drawer and not meeting her boss’s glare.

Dean snorted tossing Jesse the Jeep keys, “just try the damn engine already…”

Jesse laughed and Dean followed him out to the car, wanting to remain annoyed but significantly distracted.

“What are you celebrating anyway?” Dean finally asked unable to suppress his admittedly childish curiosity.

“Retirement,” Jesse said simply.

Dean blinked in mild confusion, “dude you’re like 36…”

Jesse grinned infuriatingly and climbed into the Jeep cab, “I know right?”

He let the curiosity eat away at Dean as he revved the engine.

It purred like it was fresh off the line and Dean couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the pleased look on the other man’s face.

“Beautiful, man,” Jesse said patting the side of the door.

Before Dean could ask Jesse if he’d won the lottery or something he pointed to Dean and said simply.

“Nine-Thirty, Gabe’s.”

Dean shook his head, “fine, fine.”

The man smiled, gave a brief thumbs up to his husband in the other vehicle and they both drove off leaving Dean to sit with his extremely mild curiosity and confusion.

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to get back to work.

“Pissy my ass…”

He hated feeling like this.

He had his mother who was doing better then she had been in years teaching mythology at the University and his standoffish little brother who came for Christmas. That was his family.

A house that was payed off in full and the shop he inherited from John that he kept running like a well oiled machine. That was his life.

Dean had made mistakes in the past, lost people in the past

Who hadn’t?

He’d made his peace with that and moved on.

He’d decided long ago that Jack and Castiel had their own sad chapter in the Winchester’s life but it was long over. Their lives were two completely separate stories now…

'Dean was sure the kid couldn’t want the fact he was born because some guy made a mistake, got drunk, and cheated on his wife following him around his whole life… Or at least… he’d get that was a bad thing when he was older.’

As far as Dean was concerned they were better off forgetting that shitty night ever happened, and he knew forgetting was the right thing to do but people constantly questioning his every decision wasn’t helping.

Sam’s self-righteous huffing and puffing.

Jesse’s… amusement.

Castiel’s confusion over the phone.

'Don’t act like you care all of a sudden…’

Things were so much simpler when there was just vague dislike and mistrust between the two of them…

Why was he even worried about this? Castiel said the kid was doing better, that should be the end of it.

If Dean saw someone hit by a car he’d try to help, call 911, stay by their side and keep them calm until the ambulance came.

'He was a decent man, despite what Sam might think.’

What Dean wouldn’t do was follow them around the accident victim for the next six months and bludgeon and prod their family for information and acknowledgment.

Jack and Castiel weren’t family.

Not really.

Jack was blood sure, but he was blood like a great aunt who lived six states away who nobody talked to for some stupid reason no one remembered, why bring up old shit?

There was too much baggage and bitterness.

Better to leave the great dam of 2000’s infidelity up between Kansas and Indiana as a monument to the shitty past rather than go picking at it and have all the crap pour out.

‘Dean felt dangerously close to drowning in that bitterness already.’

If Sam wanted to swing an ax at that himself (like the lumberjack in business casual he looked like) Sam could deal with the resulting flood himself.

He repeated the last thought to himself until he finished up for the day, leaving Claire to lock up the building.

He was of half a mind to ignore Jesse’s offer and just head home, but…

He didn’t think the empty house would do anything to calm his mind and drinking alone was just sad.

“Screw it,” He turned at the first red light and headed towards Gabe’s.

He set his phone to silent and decided to act as if that corner of his life didn’t exist for the evening.

He was spotted as soon as he entered the Gabe’s, Cesar grinning at him and gesturing him over to the little group at the bar.

“Hey Dean, sit, first round’s on us,” Jesse called from around his husband.

It was a little bit to Cheers-y for comfort but Dean didn’t fight it sighing and sidling up to the bar.

“Whiskey, neat…” Dean ordered gruffly.

Gabe poured the whiskey one eyebrow slightly raised, “well you’re awful chipper today Deano.”

“Yeah well I don’t even know what we’re supposed to be celebrating yet so…” Dean toasted in Jesse’s general direction smile not reaching his eyes “What’s the party for?”

“New beginnings,” Jesse smiled lifting up his own glass. “Finally bought the property of our dreams.”

Dean blinked, “yeah? How’d you swing that?”

“Finally sold the old shop…” Cesar said smiling at Jesse proudly.

Dean blinked, feeling a slightly bitter pang of nostalgia. He could remember long summers going out with friends and dates to rent kayaks and buy ice cream from Jesse’s family’s old rental shack by Clinton lake.

“Business finally get that bad?” Dean felt how rude the words were in his mouth and cringed internally, but Jesse just snorted and smiled.

“Just the opposite actually, it’s shaping up to be one of the biggest tourist seasons yet…”

“So… going out on a high then?” Dean took another swig of his whiskey.

“Something like that,” Jesse shrugged.

“The Gallager kid turned 25 and he’s been working there since he was 16, we figured he was probably ready to take over,” Cesar explained.

“Wait time out,“ Gabe cut into the conversation brandishing his bar rag. "Dude hasn’t your family been running that place since most of the people in the old folks home were in diapers the first time?”

“That’s the thing though, it’s always been my family’s thing,” Jesse said diplomatically, “I only actually took over because my brother was gone, my grandpa in fact had some strong opinions on ‘people like me’.” Jesse snorted, “honestly I think I only stayed so long out of spite, that and I promised mom… I always meant to let the place go when I found someone to take care of it. It was never what I dreamed about doing…”

“Sam was the same way, never wanted to work at the shop…" Dean huffed a laugh, “He never could get along with dad… so it would have been fucking weird if he stayed.”

John had been angry; not so much at Sam wanting to go his own way but just… how vehemently against staying Sam had been. “You just can’t wait to leave your family behind can you?”

“Don’t you dare, you don’t get to say that to me, not you!” Sam spat back.

“Why wallow in the shitty past when you can just move on…” Dean muttered coming back to himself in the bar.

Jesse turned his glass in his hands looking pensive, “Sometimes it felt like that… but no that’s not really it.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose.

Jesse quickly explained, “I mean yeah there was a lot of shit there, but I grew up around that old shack, me and my brother worked there pretty much every summer after we were old enough to see over the counter…”

Dean whiskey tasted ashy in his mouth, he remembered Jesse’s big brother, he’d always been the cool older teen who’d give you an extra half scoop of ice cream when “the boss” wasn’t looking.

He’d drowned on a fishing trip with his younger brother when Dean was in junior high…

Jesse shrugged continuing where he left off, “why would I let one shithead ruin all of that?”

Dean hummed vaguely still feeling a little lost, “but you’re still giving it up now?”

Jesse nodded glancing toward Cesar, “Don’t get me wrong, if my brother was still alive… if I still had family interested in running the place maybe I wouldn’t've… For a long time I thought that was going to be my whole life.”

Cesar gently squeezed his husband’s hand and Dean felt a pang of emotion he pushed away before he could identify it.

Jesse continued, “But I have a family now and I… I just… can’t live in the past anymore.”

Dean felt more lost than ever, “Makes sense I guess, why literally live in all the painful bullshit when you have something better…”

Cesar blinked at Dean, “seriously dude why so dark?”

Dean bit back the need to find a smarmy way to tell his friends it was none of their damn business, “Just shitty family stuff…”

“Your brother?” Jesse asked.

Dean snorted, “you could say that…” he knocked back the rest of his glass. “I just don’t get that kid anymore…”

“He do something stupid?” Jesse asked.

“He’s an adult, he can do what he wants,” Dean snorted and tried to get Gabe’s attention for a second whiskey, “It’s not like we really even talk much anymore, who am I to keep him from shoving his foot up his own ass…”

“Yeah, that’s real convincing…” Jesse shook his head bemused.

Dean hurumphed and muttered a thanks to Gabe who finally came over.

“Are you two still on the same crap from a few days ago?” Gabe asked pouring the second glass.

Jesse and Cesar’s ears perked up and even Gabe’s weird brother Gadreel was watching him from across the room. Dean wondered darkly if there was any privacy left in this town.

“Yeah my own, personal, crap,” Dean said pointedly.

Gabe held up his hands in mock surrender, “okay, okay, fine, don’t talk about it, it’s just seems like whatever "it” is seems to be eating you an awful lot…"

“Yeah well Sam has that effect, he does dumb shit and you worry about him, over and over until it’s just too much and…” Dean wrapped his knuckles on the table, “maybe you have it right and it’s time to cut him loose, move on…”

Jesse pulled a face, “that’s not what I meant at all…”

“Yeah well then what do you mean, because I’m getting tired of guessing,” Dean barked.

Jesse had the courtesy not to smirk at him.

“My point is… I don’t really know Sammy haven’t seen him since he was sixteen but… make sure shutting him out is what you really want, and not just some petty shit.”

It dug like a knife in Dean’s gut, “You’re right you don’t know shit…” Dean muttered taking a swig from his glass…

Jesse smiled more than a little forlornly, “all I do know is, having lost him, if I had a second chance with my brother…” he trailed off, “Make absolutely sure you’re ready to give up your chances at this future, when you’re planning on leaving behind your past…”

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Oof, sorry it took me so long to get back, it’s been a crazy few months and it’s been a struggle to get back to my usual writing routine with everything going on. Hopefully, things will be better now.

#SPN #Supernatural #Castiel #Sam Winchester #Jack Kline #Dean Winchester #fanfiction #whump #humor #Jesse Cuevas #Cesar Cuevas #Claire Novak #kylermalloy #flightoftheseraph #family drama

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thefragileblackdahlia · 4 years

Text

Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester: Part One

Chapter Summary: Sam and Dean are stunned when the spirits of Meg and Agent Henricksen appear. Ariel has flashbacks of Lucifer with the Mark and also pays the price for doing the right thing.

Ariel centric episode.

Pairing(s): Eventual Dean x Archangel!OFC, Castiel x sister!Ariel, Kindred Spirit!MOC!Lucifer x Ariel

Warning(s): Typical Supernatural violence, Mild Language, Dark thoughts, Self-loathing

A/N: I'm glad that people are liking my style of writing. I don't do much all day so the episodes are gonna come out faster than planned. I am excited about this as much as everyone else. Sam's storyline in season 4 isn't really interesting to me. I hate it but I will include some parts, I promise. Beta'd by no one so if there are any errors I'm sorry.

Word count: 2,838

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The wind whisked past Ariel's face, her red locks swaying along with the breeze. She wriggled her toes in the moist soil, taking a few steps toward the sun that settled on the horizon. Her sunkissed skin radiated beauty and vigor, the pink dress adding a touch of hierarchy and femininity. Poppies brushed against her ankles as the wind blew again. This was her heaven, a vast field of poppy flowers, no end in sight.

She inhaled a considerable amount of air before sighing softly. The archangel shut her eyes as she sensed the presence behind her, Castiel.

"Cassie." She teased whilst pivoting on her heel to face the combatant. She frowned once she realized that he wore a pained expression.

"If you are worried about the Rising of the Witnesses...I have faith Dean Winchester will put an end to it." She stated matter of factly as she walked past him.

"I wasn't sure if you knew, you've been told to keep an eye on the Winchesters. I know, after our learning about Lilith's activities, you seemed uncomfortable." He stated as he closed his eyes, remembering the last time the Cage was mentioned.

"If this has anything to do with that, Castiel, my answer will never change. I am fine. Now stop asking me. It happened eons ago, it doesn't trouble me..." She hesitated, looking off into the distance. "not anymore." Ariel said in a hushed whisper.

If she had to be honest, the whole situation had been stressful for her. She was too close to this, being Lucifer's closest sibling besides Michael wasn't enough. NO, father had to go and 'experiment with kindred spirits' He said. Ariel didn't hate Lucifer, well before he went evil. He was enjoyable, eccentric and cared a great deal about affection, but that was before the mark had corrupted him completely.

Lucifer and Ariel sat in the observation room, gazing at the stars and black holes. It was quiet, still, and only the two of them as the others were off elsewhere helping Father. By then, Lucifer already donned the mark but he meant no harm, right? The nefarious actions started small.

"What do you think of me?" The male asked, his fingers grazing over her dainty ones.

Ariel's eyes darted from the supernova forming to her older brother. What kind of question was that? Is he feeling self-conscious or is he just curious? When she thought of Lucifer, she thought of the good in him as well as his handsomeness. She thought of his warm fingers and pink wings which only reminded her of her own. She felt close to him. Like he was,

"Home." She hummed whilst enveloping his fingers in her own. The naive Angel flashed him a soft smile before returning her eyes to the spectacle in front of her. Little did she know, Lucifer had different thoughts. The mark screaming in his head, coercing him to commit horrible acts.

Once she gripped his fingers, he knew he couldn't control much of himself anymore.

He merely desired to take his arch blade and force it through her skull, to feel the warmth and wetness of the blood trickly down his fingers. He needed to wind her soft, red hair around his fist and corrupt her. He craved so much more and the thoughts echoed in his mind, crescendoing the longer they held hands.

He yanked his hand away like he was burned.

"Don't," He uttered, pain in his heart once he realized he could have just killed her without a second thought if a second longer had passed. He drew his knees to his chest and rubbed his thumb over the mark. He hated his father, how could he give him suck a mark. This horrible mark, slowly corrupting him, changing him.

"Is it bothering you? I could bear the mark if the task is too much." Ariel could sense the mark corrupting him but that didn't keep her away. Lucifer understood why she couldn't keep away which only made him want to butcher her more if he only could just bring himself to do it.

Ariel tried her best to help Lucifer fight the mark but soon, her hope would die out, driving the two apart.

Castiel noticed her pause as if her mind was off in another world. After Lucifer's fall, her remaining brothers grew cold, distant and the only angel Ariel genuinely liked was, Castiel. He was 'wired differently' or at least that's what most angels said about him. He came off the factory belt wrong, maybe it was on purpose but Ariel didn't care, they said the same about her.

'Damnit' Castiel thought. The disgruntled angel made his way over to his older sister,

"Ariel, we have work to do." He couldn't show compassion or understand it but he knew something was wrong. He placed a hand on her shoulder, watching her flinch. The celestial being gazed into her eyes, seeing no light or hope. She was lost.

"The seals, Rising of the Witnesses." He continued, hoping to coax her out of her fugue state. "It will be all right." Castiel demanded her attention, gripping her shoulder tight.

That phrase, she disliked what it did to her. It forced her to relax. The same phrase Michael prayed to her before casting the only person that cared about her, out of heaven.

"Yes, let's go." She murmured and with a strong flap of their wings they were in Bobby's kitchen, the humans unaware. They arrived just as the three were talking about them.

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Sam ridiculed his brother, "Well, then tell me what else it could have been." He brought his hands to his head, massaging the bridge of his nose.

Dean paced the kitchen slowly, a hand on his hip as he responded. "Look, all I know is I was not groped by angels. Which, one is named after a Disney princess. I mean she even has the red hair."

"Okay, look, Dean." Sam retorted, "Why do you think this Ariel would lie to you about it?"

Dean held out his hands in defiance, "Maybe she's some kind of demon. Like uh... Like Lilith. Demons lie." He turned away from his brother, curling and uncurling his fingers.

"Demons who are immune to salt rounds and devil's traps...And Ruby's knife?" The more Sam talked the higher his pitch went. Sam motioned with his hands, "Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!"

Dean shifted to face his brother, annoyance written all over his face as he rested against the kitchen counter. "Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one...at some point... ever?"

Sam licked his lips and scoffed, "Yeah," He nodded. "You just did, Dean."

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." Dean argued as he gestured to himself.

"Dean, we have a theory." Sam huffed.

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust and Disney magic on it, please." Dean countered, pushing himself up off the counter and inching closer to Sam.

"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we-" Dean instantly cut Sam off.

"Okay, Okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!" Dean boomed.

Bobby interrupted their passionate debate, "You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?"

Dean peeped at Sam, letting out a small breath before rolling his eyes subtly and walking over to Bobby's desk, Sam followed reluctantly.

"I got stacks of lore-- Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit." Bobby informed as he pointed to the picture of the angel holding a human and bringing it from the darkness into the light.

Dean subtly laid a hand on his right shoulder over the small handprint. "What else?" He asked, still in denial.

"What else, what?"

"What else could do it?" Dean articulated.

"Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing." Bobby elucidated.

Sam beamed, "Dean, this is good news."

"How?"

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap." Sam took a breath, "I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?"

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean derided.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby joined.

"I don't know, guys," Dean said and waved his hand dismissively when he turned to step away. He let out a low sigh and scratched his head. He wanted to believe, he did, but something didn't feel right.

"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam presented.

"Proof?" Dean asked, pivoting and wandering back to the desk.

"Yes." Sam asserted.

"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally?" Dean snapped, "I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it."

"Why not?"

Dean looked to Bobby, a distant look in his eyes before he answered, "Because why me?" He delayed, "If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?!"

"Dean-" Sam started.

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the- for the stealing and the- the ditching chicks. But do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy." Dean fought.

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs." Sam clarified.

There was a slight pause as the three hunters stared at each other, waiting for anyone to say something. Dean looked to Bobby, then Sam with a sheepish look on his face.

"Well, that creeps me out. I- I mean I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by...God."

Sam folded his arms over his chest and shifted his weight, "Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat." Sam simplified with a single nod.

Dean brought his hand to his mouth and then sighed. He inspected Bobby who gave him the bitch-face as if the solution was obvious. Dean averted his gaze, his nerves going off the rails but he kept it hidden. The 30-year-old cleared his throat,

"All right. What do we know about angels?" He gave in.

Sam slowly turned his head to Bobby because he had no clue what angels were like.

Bobby stretched his arms, lifting the five books he had sitting on his desk and presenting them to Dean.

"Start reading." Bobby half-joked.

Dean stared at the pile of books with a dumbfounded expression. He twisted and pointed at Sam, "You're gonna get me some pie." He snatched the first book from the pile and went into the kitchen and begrudgingly sat at the desk stacked with lore books.

Ariel rested on the desk with her legs crossed at the ankles, the lore books phasing through her lower half as Dean placed them down. She curiously watched Dean as he sat in the chair, obviously shaken up. He gripped the sides of the chair, scooting it forward and closer to the desk. The crabby hunter dropped the book down on the desk and perched his elbows to help hold up his head.

'Why me?' He thought, raking his fingers through his sandy brown hair. He dragged his hands down his face, pulling at his cheeks. Dean let out a long and heavy sigh before picking up the angel lore book and starting from page one.

"He is so troubled." Ariel cooed.

"He has been through a lot," Castiel replied from the other side of the room, gazing intently at all the papers on the wall in Bobby's office.

Observing humans wasn't always his favorite but it was he needed to make sure his sister would be fine.

Ariel chose not to respond and instead just observed Dean's mannerisms. She lingered for a while, uncrossing her legs whilst she leaned back and rested her hands on the desk. In her seated position, she rotated her head trying to relieve pressure. She closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, her neck exposed.

Castiel broke their silence by clearing his throat, "What do you think of Dean Winchester?" He inquired, walking over to the next paper.

Ariel leaped from the table, "The poster boy for humanity." She peeped at Dean when she spoke. "He's in constant pain." She continued with a sad look in her eyes.

"I see." He replied, mouth still agape as if he had more to say but he just buried his hands deep into his trenchcoat pockets.

The sound of Bobby talking on the phone was drowned out like there was a wall of water between them. Ariel could make out what was being said, she already knew what had happened. She and Castiel watched as Bobby and Dean exit the house and walk toward the garage, gathering supplies and packing it in Bobby's car.

Ariel hummed softly as she studied a page that was left open on Dean's desk. On it resided a painted representation of the Garden. Her humming stopped abruptly. She gazed at the illustration, panic filling her eyes.

"Luci, please stop...Not in the Garden!" Ariel whimpered. She brought her hands up to protect herself from her corrupted brother.

"They are nothing, Ariel! Why do you care so much for them?! Don't you care about how I feel?! I care about you, Father only cares about what you can do for him." Lucifer bellowed, snatching her wrists in his hands. He yanked her into the foliage and then slammed her body face front, against a tree.

She yelped as her head banged against the tree with full force. She shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head as blood trickled down her forehead and in between her furrowed brows.

"You won't join me. You weren't made to obey. You were born to rebel. Why can't you understand you won't be happy here, with them. Rebel with me, We can watch the stars together, for eternity." He growled, tightening his hold on her wrist with most of his strength. The corrupted Lucifer, using his weight and strength to keep her sandwiched between him and the tree. Of course, Ariel was very powerful but wasn't enough to overpower a mark baring Lucifer.

"Please, Lucifer...this isn't you." The angel murmured, her body quivering with dread as her wings were at an uncomfortable angle and she was now being harassed by her once beloved brother.

Lucifer contemplated, he already was halfway there, the rest would be easy. All he needed to do was draw his arch blade and shove it into her skull. The twisted man drew his blade pressing only the tip against her nape. He dragged it across her skin struggling with himself and fighting the mark as best he could.

"No..." He breathed, before letting her go. He disappeared with a flap of his wings.

THUD! Ariel was pulled out of her episodic flashback. Her icy cerulean orbs met Castiel's ocean blues.

Castiel "I've been saying your name more than I should. I have been called to battle-"

"I'm staying, I'll be fine." Ariel said gently as she exited the house, following after Dean and Bobby.

The low rumble of the impala caught everyone's attention as it pulled into the driveway.

Ariel furrowed her brows as her eyes rested on Sam. Sam's aura, with what used to be a bright, white, hot glow was now dimmed, only slightly. Not good.

Bobby approached the car window, leaning over. "Keep the engine running." He commanded.

"Why? What's going on?" Sam caught a glimpse of Dean packing something in Bobby's trunk.

"I got a friend one state over-- Olivia Lowry. I've been trying to reach her for three days on this angel thing. It's not like her to ignore this many calls." Bobby informed.

"Olivia Lowry -- a hunter, right?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah. We're gonna go check on her. You guys follow me." Bobby confirmed, tapping on the door as he turned to walk back to his car.

Dean came up the driver's side and opened the door, "Scoot over." He fussed and Sam did as told whilst handing the bag of food to his older brother. Dean settled into the car, shutting the door and snatching the bag. He rummaged through it, searching for the pie.

"Dude?"

"Yeah?" Sam answered. Dean looked at Sam with a dumbfounded expression, "Wheres the pie?"

"Still at the store." She snickered to herself, appearing the back of the Impala. Ariel paid no mind to the angel and with a wave of her hand, she sent him back to where he needed to be.

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#dean winchester #dean x ofc #dean winchester fanfiction #dean fanfiction #sam and dean #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural archangel #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn #spnfamliy #bobby singer #castiel #lucifer

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 5 years

Text

Chapter 11

Title: Falling for the Holidays

Pairing: Dean x Reader AU

Word Count: 1856

Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children. However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”

Warnings: Angsty-ish, One bad word (I think).

A/N: I said I wasn’t going to take forever to write the next chapter and I feel like it took me twice as long this time. Ugh. I hope you all forgive me. Thank you for being patient and thank you for showing my series some attention and love. It means a lot to me! Happy Reading! Please let me know what you think! I do adore the feedbacks, even if it’s a gif, emoji, or one word. Thanks again! xx

Series Masterlist

Dean watched her disappear through the crowds. Jo was about to chase after you, but Cass stopped her, reminding the petite blonde how you needed space when you were upset. Disturbing you would only make matters worse, unless it was Dean. But that was no longer an option, since the person she was currently furious with was Dean.

Without relaying a word back to his friends, Dean walked off, exiting the cafeteria. Cass, Jo, and Meg, just watched, not knowing what to do.

Sharing similar characteristics as you, Dean needed time to cool off. Usually, you were the designated Dean-Control person, but that wasn’t an option. The two people who needed each other was the two people who couldn’t be around each other. It was all… very complicated. Before you came along, Dean was a pretty private man. Cass was his only constant friend (his best friend.) But when you came along, Jo started to hang out with them, Benny and Garth came around often, and there were other’s who would stop Dean to say hello through the halls or in the library. Dean was an introvert at best.

“Fuck. This is gonna be some mess, isn’t it?” Jo asked aloud.

“Unfortunately,” Cass sighed, not wanting to think about the repercussions of the feud.

Dean went through the rest of his classes like a zombie, listening to what his professors were saying but not fully grasping it. He just jotted down notes he thought might be important, but didn’t bother to absorb the information like he usually did.

You on the other hand, used your fury to type down word for word everything your professor spoke, even his terrible jokes. You had no idea what he was saying, but your fingers had no time to rest. You needed to focus your pent up energy on something otherwise you’d lose it.

When classes were over, Dean dragged his way to his truck, sitting there for a while, wondering if you were going show up. Dean sat up straight when he saw you walking down the campus, but instantly slumped back into his seat when he noticed a black sports car pull up in front of you. The driver’s side window was open and Dean’s fists clenched around the steering wheel when he noticed who it was.

“Ketch,” he growled, intensely staring.

When his eyes averted back to you, both your eyes suddenly met. You were a little shocked and so was Dean, but you could see the pain in his expression even from yards away. Brushing the feelings away, you hopped into the car.

“Hello, beautiful. How was your classes?” Ketch asked.

“It was boring as usual,” you told him, glancing back in time to see Dean race out of the parking lot.

You felt a little guilty because you knew your words had hurt, but so did his. But you knew Dean better than that and you knew he didn’t mean what he said, but still… he didn’t deserve your understanding. He stepped over the line and now he had to pay the consequences however, the look he gave you when you said you never wanted to see or talk to him again made your stomach sink. Regret washed all over him and you knew then that he was sorry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face him head on, at least not in a room full of people. You couldn’t let them see you cry.

“Everything alright? You seem a little distracted,” Ketch brought you out of your thoughts.

“Uh, yeah,” you sent him a weak smile, “just a rough day.”

“Oh. Well, if you want to go home, I can drop you off. I don’t mind a raincheck. You don’t have to go out with me if you’re not up for it.”

“No, it’s fine. A distraction from my distraction could be just what I need. I’m glad you called, I really am,” you assured him.

“Okay, great. Are you hungry?” You could tell he was trying to change the subject and lighten up the mood, much to your relief.

“Starved,” was you reply.

Ketch brought you to a quaint little restaurant. It was practically a hole in the wall. You’ve been there once with Dean, but neither of you liked what was served on the menu, claiming it was “too healthy,” but you didn’t want to offend Ketch, so you went along with it.

“Have you ever eaten here before?” He asked, as the he lead you to a table next to the window.

“I’ve been here once, when it first opened. Dean and I came here to try it out,” you explained.

“Dean? Was he an old boyfriend?” Ketch wondered.

“O-oh. Um, Dean is my…” you didn’t even have to finish the sentence. Ketch was more than capable to put two and two together.

“Oh. Your best friend. The one you told me about. I see. So his name is Dean.”

“Yeah. I mean… we’re friends and I figured I could trust you.” You looked at him with hesitant eyes, reluctant to believe that maybe it was a bad idea.

“Yes. Of course. You can trust me. I’m not here to judge anyone,” Ketch replied. A sense of relief washed over you. There weren’t many people you opened up to, so knowing Ketch was someone you could trust made everything a lot lighter.

“Thank you, Ketch. It makes me so relieved to know I can count on you.”

“Always,” he smiled with soft brown eyes showing his sincerity.

Dean raced back to his apartment, coming to a slow stop when he finally cooled down. He cursed himself for being an idiot, assuming that you had called Ketch to pick you up instead of catching a ride with him, but he couldn’t blame you. He had ditched you that morning and during lunch he insulted you. Everything was his fault. Karma was a bitch.

“Dammit!” Dean shouted in his truck, banging on the steering wheel, his chest heaving with frustration.

A knock on his window made him jump, distracting him from his current thoughts. “Dean?”

“L-Lisa?” He stared at her with confusion. “What—” Dean opened the door, stepping out of his truck when he realized it that she wouldn’t be able to hear him clearly. “What are you doing here?” He questioned, his eyes catching Ben in the car parked a few spaces behind her.

“We wanted to come see you,” she admitted.

“Doesn’t Ben have school or something?”

“Oh! Yes he does, but he’s in preschool, so he’ll be fine,” Lisa explained.

“Oh. I see.” Dean didn’t say it out loud, but he thought that it was a little extreme that she’d take Ben out of school just to visit him, especially since he’d be back home for Christmas in a at the end of the instruction week.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking. Why, right?” When Dean didn’t reply, she took that as her cue to speak again. “Can we just go inside and talk about it? Ben and I are freezing.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Let’s go—”

“Mom! I’m hungry!” Ben screamed, his voice muffled by the car window.

“Looks like the kid has spoken. Why don’t you both hope into the truck and we go get something to eat?” Dean suggested.

“That sounds amazing,” Lisa smiled, skipping over to Ben.

With everyone in the truck, Ben sandwiched between his mom and Dean, they sped off into the center of town. School had just ended, so the traffic was pretty heavy. “Oh. c’mon. I hate the afterschool rush,” Dean grumbled.

You were about to take a bite out of your salad when you happened to look out the window. It was hard to miss the red Ford truck passing through with not only Dean in the hunk of metal, but Ben and Lisa as well.

A loud clank echoed through the restaurant as your fork crashed onto the ceramic plate.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” Ketch, along with everyone else in the restaurant, stared at you with concern, a few patrons glaring at you with irritation. “Y/N.” Only when Ketch placed his hand over yours did you snap back to reality.

“What? Uh… sorry. I – I thought I saw something,” you faked a chuckle.

“What was it?” Ketch asked, turning around to take a glimpse out the window behind him.

“It… it was nothing. Sorry. I guess my mind was playing tricks on me. I must be really hungry,” you joked.

The rest of the evening, you were a little – or a lot – out if. Ketch had to steer you around many times, and had to yank you back from walking into traffic.

“Y/N, what in god’s name is going on in that head of yours?” He snapped, grabbing you by the arms and looking you into the eyes. You could tell that he was worried, so you weren’t offended by his scolding.

“Sorry. I think I’m just a little tired. It was a long weekend and a rough day at school.”

“Hey. It’s okay. How about I just take you home, hm?” You nodded your head in a response, allowing him to take your hand and lead the way back to his car.

Rounding a corner, you and Ketch came to an abrupt stop, almost running into a group of people.

“Oh, pardon u—” Ketch didn’t finish, flinching. “Li—B—umm, Dennis?” Ketch stammered.

“Dea-Dennis?” Your attention drew to Ketch. Who the hell was Dennis? You had heard that name before… Quickly averting your attention back to the group in your path, you stared at them. “Dean? Lisa?”

“Y/N?” Lisa seemed to be surprised as well. There was a flicker in her eyes when they barely landed on Ketch that had you thinking, perhaps, they new each other. “U-um, hi,” Lisa was able to pull her self back together quickly, a big smile adorning her lips. “Who’s your friend?”

“Uh, Lisa, Dean, Ben, this is Ketch,” you introduced.

“Dean? I think we’ve met. Didn’t you say your name was Dennis?” Ketch announced, his head tilting a tad.

“Wait, you two have met before?” Lisa chimed in.

“Lisa, do you know Ketch?” You added to the conversation, directing your question at the brunette.

“Funny story…” Dean chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, as he figured out a plausible explanation.

Everything was in disarray and everyone was talking all at the same time, holding multiple conversations that quickly started to make no sense. When you finally took control and stopped the madness, you all noticed that Ben was missing.

“Where’s Ben?” Lisa asked, snapping her head side to side in search for her four-year old son. “Ben?!”

Panic shot threw all of you. “It’ll be easier with we split up,” Dean advised, looking over at you, standing directly in front of him.

“Agreed,” Ketch responded.

It took less than a second for you and Dean to pull your eyes away from each other when you noticed that Ketch and Lisa were gone. It was a little weird, but it wasn’t the time to think about that. The priority was Ben.

Say Something Nice Here!

Falling for the Holidays Tags: @hannahindie @pinknerdpanda @winchesterprincessbride@amanda-teaches @dancingalone21 @a-winchester-fairytale @dolphincliffs @oneshoeshort @brewsthespirit-blog @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @atc74 @natasha-baggins@heavymetalhauswife @linki-locks11 @spnwoman @veevm @chameleah86 @kdcollinsauthor @claitynroberts @roonyxx@rainflowermoon @ladylaylo @closetspngirl @mirandaaustin93 @salt-n-burn-em-all @flamencodiva @fangirlanotherjust @tabbyjane@shamelesslydean @couldabeenamermaid @alexwinchester23 @algud @gracefultrenchcoat494 @prettyinplaid94 @shhhs3cret @cookiechipdough @justkending

#dean winchester x reader au #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn au #dean winchester #reader insert #supernatural #dean winchester series #dean winchester series au #Falling for the Holidays #squirrel-moose-winchester

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bulkheadthewrecker · 5 years

Note

🍎🍋🍌🍇🍅🥒🥔🥜 (Salad power with Topics ^^)

🍎 - If you had to chose a new faceclaim for your muse, who would you pick?

I think I might have used the voice actor for Bulk, but I don’t remember. I’m trying to find it. If I do, I’ll tag you in it.

🍋 - Does your muse complain about things to you? If so, what?

Hard to say. I’m not really close to Bulk. But he is annoyed by my other muse which is a Decepticon. He complains about him. Maybe he also complains that I don’t play him more often XD and also how he wishes there was a good Wheeljack to bond with.

🍌 - What drew you into the fandom in the first place?

My would-be roommate from my first year dorming at a 4 year college. She was going to be my roommate but had to back out for personal reasons. But my other roommates who lived with me knew her, so they invited her over for spring break and she stayed the night a couple nights. She brought with her a voyager Starscream figure and a mini “Steve” figure. I wondered what they were and she told me about Transformers Prime on Netflix. I watched the pilot episodes with her and my other mates. I loved it so much I watched all two seasons (that were out at the time) in two days. I instantly fell in love with the cartoon because tfp is the shit. I wanted more so my actual roommate told me about a person on tumblr who wrote toyformer stories under the “toyformer tag” cruelfeline. I loved her stories, that made me want the figures. So then I started collecting a million figures and haven’t stopped. Being on tumblr also made me want to rp. My would-be roommate was Megatron, one of the popular ones at the time. Pretty cool that my roommate would have been Megs. Anyway, I made an OC and then I made this blog. I have been on this site for a 6 years and counting. This is the first year I’ve been dying off. Kinda sad. The fandom isn’t what it was.

🍇 - Have you even encountered any partners that threw a tantrum at you?

A shit ton on my other blog. It pisses me off for a while, but I block them and their tag so I don’t have to see their bitchy comments and asshole demeanor. I just don’t have time for that scrap anymore.

🍅 - Have you ever had a case of mistaken identity for your muse or another?

I don’t really understand this question. I mean, I guess I accidently logged onto this blog when I meant to log on to my other and I posted stuff on this blog that was meant for my other. *shrugs*. And this blog has been mistaken for https://biggreenwrecker.tumblr.com/ and their blog because our urls were similar. ... I just checked out that blog... totally changed now. Huh.

🥒 - Are you thinking about reviving old muses? Who?

This is the blog I revive now and then, actually. Lol. My other blogs are dead and are probably gonna stay that way. If I did revive one, it would be my Swerve blog. But this blog and my oc blogs are my originals and that’s probably all I’ll keep alive.

🥔 - What’s the dumbest mistake you’ve made in rp?

Probably replying from the wrong blog, lol. Or I suppose there was a time Bulk was talking to WJ and WJ was talking about Seaspray, I think. And they nicknamed him barnical butt or something? That was in Prime and I had forgotten it.

🥜 - What’s the nuttiest thread you’ve ever had?

No idea, most of them are pretty nutty.

#tfpoptimusprime #ask

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percywinchester27 · 6 years

Text

Unconventional Roommates (Part-10)

Word count: 2.6K

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: Pining, fluff.

Series Summary: Now that his brother is at Stanford, for the first time in his life, Dean does something for himself. He takes a step towards chasing his own dreams and moves away from Lawrence to start college, which is both thrilling and scary at the same time. Only catch, in this unknown town, he is stuck with the MOST infuriating female on the planet- the roommate from hell!

A/N: Firstly, THANK YOU for all the reblogs and replies. Your kind words are what keep me going <3

Secondly, thanks to the my princess @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this. You are a blessing, love <3

Unconventional Roommates masterlist

"C'mon cheer up! Everyone loved your pictures," Cas patted him on his shoulders.

"Yeah."

"Dean's the new star now," Meg added, coming to sit beside him. "You're breezing through the internals, the assignments that Zach set up and now even the guys at the paper think you're some sort of messiah sent to help them with the pictures."

He smiled at his dark haired friend. Meg and Cas were being too kind too him.

"I can't use all the pictures though, I'll have to ask Y/N first."

Meg smirked. "How's the Ninja girl doing anyway?"

"Honestly," Dean said, the smile on his face slipping off, "I haven't seen much of her."

It had been two weeks since Sam's visit and all he got was a few fleeting glimpses of her as they managed their own schedules. Dean didn't know if he was better off or more desperate that he didn't get to see her. Both of them had been working weekends non-stop. The boys at Bobby's had all somehow disappeared out of town at the same time and Dean had been running from pillar to post to get all the work done. It seemed that Y/N was having a similar situation, except she was spending longer hours at work, sometimes even the day shift and then the rest of the time in the library finishing up her assignments. It's what her post-its on the kitchen counter said.

In the meantime, Dean had developed the negatives. He was glad Sam wasn't around because he had been right after all, half of those pictures were of Y/N. Smiling, pouting, staring into the distance with the fair lights reflected in her eyes a thousand times over. The angles that she had suggested from atop the damned Ferris wheel were fantastic too, and the team loved those, but what they loved more was her silhouetted figure in the periphery. She set the frame. Without her the picture seemed wrong. Incomplete. Not that anyone except Cas and Meg knew it was Y/N, but it felt wrong to add that one without her permission.

"You couldn't find a minute to ask her about the picture in two weeks?" Meg asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

Oh, he could have found time, but the truth was, Dean had been avoiding her. Mostly because facing her would mean facing his feelings, but also because he didn't know if he could control himself from pulling her flush against him, and maybe… maybe kissing her.

That was how he'd make it to the front page of the newspaper. Local college boy murdered. No evidence has been found; the roommate was last seen exiting the scene of the incidence covered in a sticky red substance.

Dean shook his head, dismissing the thoughts.

"Anyway," Cas cut in, "You have till Monday to figure out the fair pictures. We also need a couple shots of the beach. It's for another article about local hangout places, but now that they've cleared up the fair stuff, you should try out clicking in the daylight."

Dean nodded, glad to have something else to concentrate on that wasn't college work or fixing leaks and engines.

"I'll see you guys then,' Dean said quickly, getting up before either of them could get back to Y/N.

The beach was mostly empty. Given that it was Friday afternoon, the emptiness surprised Dean. Shouldn't it be full of people making out?

He made his way towards the shore, removed his shoes and socks and let the sand bury his feet. It felt good. The warmth that was almost uncomfortable, but not really, somehow made him feel more alive. Placing his bag right over the shoes, he trudged further, deliberately feeling the grains against his skin, the pulse of the sand that molded itself around him. Sometimes he wished he could be like that and mould himself around a situation instead of be buried in it.

"There you are!"

Dean almost jumped out of his skin, mostly because he'd been missing her voice right about then and thinking about how appealing the depth was.

"I scared you, didn't I?" She came from behind, her hand landing on his shoulder. Dean jumped again, but this time for completely different reasons.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me, Winchester," she said lightly.

She didn't know better, because he had been avoiding her.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly.

I'm sorry for not leaving replies to your notes. I'm sorry for taking shifts when I knew you would be home. I'm sorry for being hopelessly in love with you.

"It's okay, Romeo," she said, reaching out. Dean hesitated, then slid his fingers along hers, catching hold of them.

"How did you know I was here?"

Y/N shrugged. "I saw you from the street when I was heading home from the library, and beach in mid afternoon is totally something a sane person would do." Ever so sarcastic. "So I followed you out of concern."

"That's very sweet," he said, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion. "Who are you and what did you do with my roommate?"

Her laughed sparkled more than the clear blue water stretching for miles ahead of them.

Hand in hand she led him to the water till it crashed against the bare skin of his feet, pushing the sand away.

"I like coming here a lot," she said. "I remind myself to be more like water."

"How?"

"Well, it crashes ahead when it wants to, goes back when it wants to. Nothing here can affect the sea. It affects everything else. The trees, the wind and even the rocks. I love the raw power it holds."

Dean scoffed.

"Something funny?"

He shook his head. "No. It's just that before you came, I was thinking to myself how I want to be more like the sand."

He couldn't miss the irony, could he now? The way the receding water drew the sand towards it was all but hypnotic. The pull there was undeniable. But the same wave hurled the sand so far away when it gushed forward. The metaphor was so tragic, how the water didn't care about the sand at all, but the sand couldn't help but bend to its will.

"That's perfect then, isn't it?" She said, all of a sudden.

"How is that perfect?" Dean failed to understand.

"You see, nothing can hold the sea like the sand does. The rocks break, the soil dissolves, but the sand? It settles. The sea can be turbulent at its best, create a fucking ruckus around and within itself, but the sand always has its back, maintains its supportive nature. Isn't that what you do? Deal with me?"

Dean was stumped. He didn't know what to say.

"Anyway, why are you roasting yourself in the sun?"

That got him talking. "They needed pictures of the beach. Someone is doing a column on the hangout places and I came to check if this place would be any good for the pictures."

"You'll get nothing here," she squinted at the deserted stretch of land. "Not at this hour anyway."

"You're right," Dean agreed. "I need a vantage point. This flat stretch is not of any use."

"We should get us some shade, unless you want to fry us both."

Walking back out of the water felt good, the sand stuck to his feet now thanks to the water. It made him smile.

"You don't seem in a hurry today," Dean commented as they sat down under one of the umbrellas at the edge.

She pouted, considering her words. "The person I was filling in for is back, so I can afford to go in late today."

"Yeah, but you've been filling in for this person for what? Two weeks now? I think you definitely deserve a break after all that."

"No, I'd rather work as much as I can, you know."

"Why?" Dean couldn't help but ask. "You don't really need all this money."

She looked at him quickly, too quickly. "Why would you say that?"

Dean chose his words very carefully. "Well, for starters, you had no clue what you wanted to do with the money that you won. From having lived meal to meal at one point, I know that's not how someone scrunched for money would think."

He didn't know if he was overstepping a line, but he couldn't see her wearing herself out like this either.

"There's one other thing I don't understand. Why do you let the landowner put someone in the room with you if you pay the rent for the whole damn apartment."

She shook her head. "Technically, I just pay for my room. The other half is interest."

"Interest? Interest for what?"

She took a deep breath and averted her eyes to the ocean. "I'm buying the whole apartment complex from her."

"What?" His voice was louder than he intended, she didn't react to that.

"I've been paying off for the whole place for about 7 years now. The price is all paid, it's just the interest that's left. 6 more months and I'll own the place."

He was still stumped, but she looked at him with a smile.

"Tell me Dean, have you ever been truly scared of something?" She asked, but stopped him before he could open his mouth. "Not of something obvious.. Like not losing Sam or whatever. Of something that might seem insignificant on the obvious level, but deep down, it scares you beyond anything?"

He shook his head.

"Well, I am," she admitted. "I'm scared of wasting my life. I feel like I just have this one life to learn as much as I can, you know? I want to study as much as I can, Math, Economics, Politics, Literature, Philosophy. All of it. I just don't want to stop learning… you know?

She was gesturing with her hands now, trying to convey something that meant so much to her. The desperation in her words either meant that she'd never said this out loud to anyone and now that she was, she wanted to get it out as soon as possible. Or, that she wanted to make it convincing, because she thought that he would find her fear silly somehow. First world and crazy.

But if anything, Dean just fell more in love with her.

"It sounds stupid, doesn't it?" She asked, apologetic and a little withdrawn. He was quick to reach out for her hand.

"Actually, no. It sounds exactly like you and in the best way possible."

She stole looks, shying away. Was she actually blushing?

Sam's words came back to haunt him: She loves you, you idiot!

"Really, though, imagine owning the place. Then I could rent it out and wouldn't have to worry about making money. I could start day college and Mia… my sister, she could come stay with me."

Her eyes glazed over as she described it- the perfect picture.

Dean had to say it. "You could still do that you know? Have her live with you. She's at a boarding school, right?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah she's at boarding school. An hour and a half's drive from here. But no, I couldn't have her living here with me since I work nights. How could I ever leave her alone all night long? And then I didn't make enough to rent out the whole apartment back when we started, I couldn't trust any roommate with her."

That part Dean could understand but he couldn't understand why she worked nights in the first place and he asked her so.

"I'm used to it," she shrugged. "I started out waitressing at Ellen's, then I just got used to working nights."

"You know, you could buy any apartment you wanted, why this one?" It was musty and the lift frigging never worked.

"Have you seen the basement?" She exulted. "It's fantastic."

Dean gave her a look. "You know, you're really not helping the serial killer vibes."

She laughed. "Seriously, come on!"

Dean let her drag him all the way back to the building, watched in ill concealed, morbid wonder when she popped open the lock like a pro and pulled him in.

She was right. It was massive. Apart from the columns that made their way to the bottom, the space was clear of any and all obstructions.

"I'm really not part of this if you're thinking of turning this into a torture room."

"Oh, c'mon!" she clapped on his back genially, taking in the gloomy view before them. "Trust me torture is fun… unless you're the one being tortured. You have to agree that it's kinda cool in an eerie way."

Dean smirked, giving in to her teasing, but in reality, he couldn't help but be awed about how much she had achieved at such a young age. What impressed him even more was how different her life goals were. People wanted money, popularity, fame. They wanted to be powerful and important. But Y/N? All she wanted was to study without having to worry about the money it cost her. All she wanted was to have her sister live with her and Dean could relate to that on so many levels.

Her goals out of life were so simple that it made her stand out in their simplicity. It brought out the goodness in her.

"Promise me something?" He asked

"What?" She seemed suddenly vulnerable.

"Promise me first," he insisted.

Y/N looked scared and he knew she was scared because this required her to trust him. "Yeah, I promise."

"Once you own the building, that nasty woman living on the ground floor is the first one you'll kick out."

She was taken aback, but a wide grin spread across her lips and she pointed at the dusty table stacked in the corner. "Who do you think our very first customer here is going to be?"

Dean doubled over laughing and after a second she joined in. "Actually you know what? That old hag might be into bondage for all we know. She might just take a liking for us after that."

He cringed. "You had to put that image in my head, didn't you?"

She shrugged. "Hey, you started it."

Still laughing, they made their way to the front of the building and the lady in question popped her head out and tsk-ed at them disapprovingly. That made them go hysterical again.

"Hey Dean," she asked finally falling onto the sofa next to him, fingers clutching stomach in a gesture identical to his.

"Yeah?"

"You still want that picture?"

"Yeah, I do."

She seemed to grow speculative for a minute, then said. "I have the perfect place for you. What're you doing this Sunday?"

"N-nothing, actually." He'd have cancelled it even if he had a plan.

"I have something to do, first," she said. "But if you don't mind tagging along for that, we could go to this perfect place by the evening. You'll get great pictures there, especially the sunset."

Whole day with her? Dean knew he'd say something, or worse do something that would give away how he felt. But really? Could he even keep it in anymore? He didn't think so. Besides, he was daring to hope that there might be something from her side, too. If that was true, he had to give them a chance.

His smile must have been brighter than she expected when he said, "I'd love to go, Y/N."

He was wasn't giving up on her, on them. Not without a damn fight anyway. Maybe, not even then.

***************************************

A/N 2: Are we liking the reader yet? Or do we still think she is a stuck up bitch? ;)

A/N 3: Please do consider reblogging my work and leaving feedback. Reblogging helps spread it, and also helps against the “best posts first” option tumblr has. The more the notes, the less chance of it getting buried beneath others posts. And the comments are what keep me going. I love you guys and I’ll be in forever grateful <3

The taglist for this series is CLOSED!

However, here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

UR taglist:

@deanssweetheart23 @captainradicalpassion @docharleythegeekqueen @sleepless-sin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @ohgodwhybloggg @roxyspearing @oneshoeshort @theofficialduke @wildlandfox @mrswhozeewhatsis @emoryhemsworth @dslocum89 @justacinnamonroll @fanfreak07 @dustycelt @serienjunkiegirl @thinkwritexpress-official @babykalika2001 @daskleinevolk @jayankles @blacktithe7 @pensysto @iyannamckague @shamelesslydean @crystallstaircase @melonberri @commander-meghan-shepard @trenchcoat-angel @smiling-meerkat @sprnaturallover @violinbetty @fandom-trash-worth-it @grace-for-sale @katsanders @samwinchesterfanfic @bluestarshining @torn-and-frayed @adaliamalfoy @anathewierdo @gabavaldman @brindz30 @heavymetalhauswife @sdavid09 @hatemeup @plaidstiel-wormstache @deannawinchesterpie @kit-kat-katie99 @jessieray98 @mlovesstories @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @directionernullneun @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @theoriginalvicki @angelessquirrel @thereisnolumos @julie121899 @mikid2000 @freekryptonitecloud @padasteph-nie @luna-plena-venandi @tiffy119 @linki-locks11 @mirandaaustin93 @pjofangirl18 @hunterswearingplaid @cookiechipdough @superlock-on-pc @daughterleftbehind @abumbling-bee @savanna1899 @imweirdandobsessed @emilycollins11 @diariesofthebeautyobsessed @bakabozza @imascio08 @luvspnandphan @stormisamystery @atc74 @aiaranradnay @bellastellaluna @deansgirl215 @xristina-gkika @almostelegantfire @infinity-dreamchaser @roonyxx @ericaprice2008 @akshi8278 @leatherandapples @ceisbill @alwaysdreamingforthebest

#dean winchester x reader #reader x dean winchester fluff #dean x reader #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #ur part 10 #anawrites #anawritesspn #Ana writes Dean #Ana writes UR #q

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erinchu · 6 years

Note

“You’re overthinking– I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.”

*kicks door open* I CHIME IN WITH A HASNT ERIN EVER HEARD OF, WRITING A PROMPT ON TIME, NO!

I’m so sorry this took so long and I don’t even know??? I had this idea in my head and just sort of went with it *shrugs* I hope you enjoy lovely and thank you so much for the prompt!

Love Me Now or Never

It all started with a text message.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin our relationship, professional or…whatever this is, but I would 100% let you wreck me if given the chance.”

Rhys hit send and immediately threw his phone across the room onto his bed. Had he really just done that? What the fuck was he thinking sending a text like that to Handsome Jack!? He could feel his heart pounding in his chest like a kick drum.

The two had struck up a rather flirtatious relationship over the past few months, which hadn’t been helping the raging crush the young PA had on his CEO. Jack seemed just as interested in Rhys as he was in him and it finally reached a point where Rhys couldn’t even hear his voice anymore without getting hard. For Rhys, it was more than just lust, which, okay, there was a whole lot of lust going on. But Rhys was starting to feel something more for the older man. All these feelings combined created a moment of temporary insanity that had caused Rhys to send that text. Yeah, that was totally why.

The cybernetic man felt his breathing hitch as he heard his phone buzz against his bed sheets. The light from the screen lit up the dark area, shining like a little beacon, begging him to read it. Rhys swallowed dryly as his feet willed him across the room towards the device. Timidly, a flesh hand reached out and took hold of the phone tightly. He slid his thumb across the bottom, unlocking it, prepared to read his fate. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be fired via text.

Rhys let out an audible gasp as he read the two word response from his boss. Simple, to the point and exactly what Rhys had hoped for but not at all what he had expected.

“Ruin it.”

And that was how their ‘relationship’ started. The next day when the two got into work, Handsome Jack pulled his PA into his office, tossed him into his large yellow chair and simply said.

“Well, ready to get wrecked, kiddo?”

They carried on this like for the months to come, seeing each other in and outside of work nearly every day. Rhys was completely smitten with Jack and each day he could feel himself falling more and more for the older man. Jack seemed to be quite taken with Rhys as well, but it was always hard to tell with him. They hadn’t exactly gone public with their affair but they certainly weren’t keeping it on the down low either. Everyone who worked in Jack’s private office, including Rhys’ cubicle mate, Meg, knew what was going on between the two. No one really cared though. It was a common thing for Handsome Jack to do. There was a reason after all he had the habit of hiring beautiful looking PA’s, most of which all were happy to sleep with him whenever he wanted. In Rhys’ mind though, they were dating, exclusively. At least, Rhys was anyway.

It was Friday evening, Jack and Rhys’ usual date night and Rhys was waiting around his apartment for Jack to call him to let him know he was downstairs waiting for him. When an hour had passed and he still hadn’t heard anything, Rhys got worried and decided to call him. It took a few tries but Jack finally answered.

“N’hello?” Jack’s voice was a bit louder than usual, like he was shouting into the phone and Rhys could hear a lot of background noise behind him. Was that music?

“Uh, hey. What’s going on, where are you? Are you okay?” Rhys worried over his bottom lip after he asked that, feeling a bit silly for how worried he had sounded. There was a pause on the line before Jack finally spoke again.

“Um, yeah, I’m fine, cupcake. I can’t really talk right now though, it’s really loud in this club and I’m getting shit reception. I’ll call you after this date is over, it’s going horribly anyway, this girl is about as interesting as a road killed skag. Some broad from the R&D department. Talk about instant regret, ha.”

Rhys felt his whole body stiffen at that word. Had he said…he was on a date?

“Wait, what are you talking about? Jack?”

“I’m sorry babe, I can’t hear you. I’ll call you later! Byeeee~”

Click.

The phone dropped from Rhys’ hand and fell down to the couch, Rhys following shortly after it as he collapsed onto it. Jack was on a date with some random woman from work, like it was no big deal and Rhys was just supposed to sit and wait for Jack to call him after he was done.

By the time Jack had tried to ring Rhys, the younger man was fuming. He was angry with Jack, but mostly he was angry with himself for being so stupid. How could he have allowed himself to get so close, to foolishly think he was the only one Handsome Jack was fucking. It made his stomach turn…Jack was his, or so he assumed.

Jack was tapping his fingers across his knee as the phone rang and rang until finally, Rhys had rejected the call. He furrowed his brows as he stared down at the screen but then smiled a bit as his phone buzzed. Rhys was trying to video call him. Excellent, he had wanted to see Rhys all night anyway, so this was the next best thing. When the call finally connected and he saw the younger man appear on his screen, he smiled wide and waved with his free hand.

“Well hello there, good looking. You have no idea how happy I am to see that face of yours.” Jack had opened his mouth to continue on but was quickly shut down.

“Jack, what the actual fuck?” Rhys snapped, his lip quivering a bit as he tried to keep his cool. This had thrown Handsome Jack for a loop and he looked around a few times before shrugging and shaking his head.

“What? Did I call too late or something?” Jack blinked and looked down at his wrist watch. It was nearly three am but he had called much later in the past before, so surely this couldn’t have upset Rhys that much to merit such a response.

“Are you joking? I don’t care about the damn time, I’ve waited up all night just to hear from you. What did that mean earlier when you said you were on a date with someone?!”

“Oh, well, when two people think they may hit it off, they go out to a place and hang out for a while to see if it ends in sex. At least that’s how it works when I date.” Jack chuckled and clicked air against his teeth a few times as he shot a finger gun towards Rhys. Rhys very visibly deflated and Jack watched as he tilted his head back for a few moments, his eyes just boring into the ceiling. It looked like he was trying not to cry.

“You’re seeing other people, Jack?” Rhys finally asked for a few moments, his voice soft and almost fragile. Jack could clearly hear the hurt in the younger mans tone and it made him feel…guilty almost.

“…Are you not seeing other people, Rhys?” Jack forced out a weak chuckle, his whole playful facade slipping away as he realized the gravity of the situation. He rubbed at the back of his neck as he watched Rhys just sit there silently for a moment and shake his head. Finally, he broke the silence, sniffling a little and clearing his throat before speaking.

“No, I haven’t been dating anyone else, Jack, because apparently I’m a fucking idiot,” Rhys laughed out, trying to mask the pain in his voice. “I figured since we were spending all our time together and you were fucking me, that we were in an exclusive relationship but I’m seeing now that I was wrong.” Rhys quickly swiped his flesh fingers under his eyes to catch any tears that might have dared to break free. Jack swallowed dryly as he watched him, his stomach dropping a little. He wasn’t sure what to say or if he should even speak, so he waited.

“Have you been seeing people the whole time you’ve been with me?” Rhys asked quietly, his nose and cheeks flushing a soft shade of red as he continued to try and hold back his tears. Jack let out a deep sigh and pushed his digits through the grey streak at the front of his hair.

“Look, Rhysie, I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you think just you and I were dating…” Jack began, that sentence alone causing Rhys to screw his eyes shut and whimper softly. Jack kept going though, powering through the heartbreaking sounds Rhys was making. “But yes, I have been seeing other people. I’m not really a ‘one person’ type of guy. Come on, kiddo. You had to know that when we first started all this up…Fooling around with me is basically in the job description at Hyperion. I don’t do the whole exclusive thing.”

Jack had had this conversation in the past many times with several men and women who had made the same mistake of thinking they were the only person in Jack’s life in that way. But somehow now, having that same conversation with Rhys made him feel sick. Those words felt wrong aimed at Rhys. He wanted to take them back as soon as he had said it, but it was too late now. It was out there and there was no changing that.

It was uncomfortably silent for a long while and Jack watched as Rhys processed everything and worked it out in his head. When Rhys finally lifted his eyes to meet Jack’s, it caused the older man to flinch and nearly drop his phone. Those usually beautiful and bright heterochromatic eyes of Rhys’ were flooded with tears, the corners on both ends already so puffy and red. It was a look Jack had never intended to put on Rhys’ face, but there it was. He had opened his mouth to speak again, taking in a small breath but no words followed. He wasn’t really sure what to say anymore.

“You’re right,” Rhys sniffled softly and nodded, his lips pressing into a hard line as he tried to calm himself down. “It was my mistake, Jack. It won’t happen again.”

The way Rhys had said it made Jack wince and he drew his brows together as he stared at his phone screen. The kid had stopped crying, his eyes a little glazed over now; hazy. Most of all though, the hurt was as clear as day and it was tearing Jack up inside. What the fuck was up with that? He was Handsome Jack after all, what did this PA expect? If Jack was being honest with himself though, he really did like Rhys and he was enjoying their time together. He had kept seeing randos out of what felt like habit, not want. It felt different with Rhys though. Jack looked forward to seeing him, to being intimate together, to just lay around on Rhys’ couch watching old black and white films and eating pizza.

It was dawning on Jack as they sat there, connected only by screens that he had maybe made a mistake. The more Rhys stared at him, the more Jack felt further and further away from him, like the distance between them was ever growing.

“Rhys, I-”

“It’s over, Jack. I don’t think we should see one another anymore. Sorry for getting confused on where we stood, but I won’t do this- I can’t do this.” Rhys dropped his head as his words just sort of fell off. It was obvious there was more he wanted to say but he couldn’t seem to get it all out. Instead he just smiled weakly at a stunned looking Jack and shrugged.

“Bye, Jack.”

There wasn’t even a chance for Jack to get a word in before the call ended and Jack’s screen went dark. The older man let the phone fall onto his lap and he sat back in his chair, his mouth hanging open slightly. Had he just been broken up with by his goddamn PA? He sat there for several minutes, fuming as Rhys’ words kept playing over and over in his head.

“It’s over…”

Handsome Jack wasn’t the break up-ee, he was the break up-er. This was ludacris, who did this kid think he was talking to and why did it bother Jack so much? He snatched up his phone and tried ringing Rhys’ phone, but there was no answer. He tried a few more times, determined to finish their conversation on his terms, but after the third time of calling, Rhys’ phone went straight to voicemail.

“Son of a bitch…” Jack sighed deeply and chucked his phone across the living room onto a nearby couch. Fine, Rhys could dodge him for now, but come Monday morning, he was going to finish their talk. Rhys couldn’t avoid him forever.

“What?! What the hell do you mean a transfer?”

It was bright and early on Monday morning at Hyperion and Handsome Jack was early for once. He had come in only to be handed paperwork for approval from his other PA, Meg. The young woman winced a little as he barked at her and she calmly tried explaining again.

“Mr. Rhys came in very early this morning and filled out these two forms, sir. One was a request for leave and the other for a transfer to a different department in the facility. Since you are the department head for this floor obviously, you have to approve it…”

Jack was listening as his eyes scanned over the form again and again. There it was, in Rhys’ hand writing, his request to be moved as far away from Jack’s office as possible. He had asked to be moved down to the coding department, which never really saw the light of day as far as the rest of the company was concerned. Basement nerds with bad social skills and in desperate need of a tan.

“How long did he request time off for?” Jack asked without looking up, his hand reaching out for the other piece of paper she had for him.

“One full week, sir. He would return to work at his new position next Monday, if approved.” Meg smiled a little as she placed the paper in his hand. This all seemed very sudden to her and she had her suspicions, but it wasn’t her place to ask and it certainly didn’t seem like Jack wanted to chat about it.

“How long would it take to process his transfer if I signed these today?” Jack was starting to piece together what Rhys had done but he wanted to hear it anyway.

“…It takes about a week, sir. Between paperwork and getting him setup with security clearance for that department.” Her face fell a little as Jack finally figured it out. So he was trying to avoid Jack. He wasn’t even going to give Jack the opportunity to corner him to talk. Jack felt that anger building up inside him again and he began to crumple the papers he had been holding. His hand twitched slightly as he felt the paper slice a thin, long cut along his index finger and he snapped out of his own head after a moment. Fine, if that was how Rhys wanted it, then so be it. Jack would give him what he wanted.

“Hand me a pen, would you, princess?” Jack smiled, reaching his hand out towards his PA and snapped twice. Meg did as she was asked and eagerly gave him her pen, her brows furrowing as she watched him. With just a few strokes of ink, it was done. Jack let out a small sigh before putting on his usual grin and winked up at his PA as he handed her back her pen.

“Thanks babe,” Jack winked, grinning a little as he put his finger against his lips, licking away the small amount of blood that had formed from his cut. “Could you get those sent off right away for me, please?” Jack gently tapped on the top of her desk a few times and smiled wide, earning him an equally wide smile from his lovely PA.

“Right away, sir. Consider it done.”

Jack nodded and turned to walk away, his smiling instantly dropping as he headed back towards his office. He didn’t want anyone to see the hurt on his face.

It was torturous for Jack, waiting to hear something, anything from Rhys. He had tried calling him throughout the week and got the same result each time. Nothing. He didn’t want to just show up at his house, either. Why would he anyway? Rhys had ended it with him and made that very clear. Still, even though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, it was driving Jack insane.

When Friday finally hit and still nothing from his former lover, Jack was angry. Who the fuck did Rhys think he was? No one walks away from Handsome Jack or says they’re done. That was Jack’s job and Rhys was lucky Jack had feeling for him or he’d be out an air lock by now.

Feelings…

“Oh for fucks sake, what is happening right now?” Jack exclaimed loudly as he sat at his desk, thinking over the whole situation, his digits plunging into his hair as he leaned forward onto his elbows. Jack had never caught feelings for any of his conquests in the past, but for some reason he couldn’t shake Rhys from his thoughts. Was it possible he actually cared about Rhys? Like proper, hold hands, go on dates, make love and not just mindlessly fuck, only be with him, care about him? And could that be why he was so bothered by Rhys ending things between them?

“Noooope, nope, nope. Fuck that.” Jack growled out through gritted teeth. He looked around his office, his chest heaving a little as he took short, shallow breaths. He needed something to distract himself, to take his mind off of Rhys, off of how guilty and hurt he felt about this whole stupid fucking situation. If Rhys wanted out of his life and was so willingly to just walk away, okay then. Jack wasn’t going to sit around all mopey and wait for him. His eyes trailed to his office’s front doors and he smirked as he remembered just who was sitting on the other side of them. The perfect distraction. He reached over to the little comms box that sat on his desk and pressed a button on it.

“Meg, pumpkin, could you come in here please? I need you.”

It did not take long for Jack’s intentions with Meg to become clear. The younger woman had grown used to the look Jack would give her during work hours when it meant he wanted her. In the past, she would happily oblige, but now she felt uneasy about it. Jack didn’t seem to notice this however as he threw her against his desk and quickly closed the space between them, his hands roaming all over her body. He was being hasty and rash, not flirting and being coy like he usually would. He truthfully just wanted to bury himself in someone right now and try to forget about Rhys, even if it was only a temporary fix. He was upset and angry and confused all at once and he didn’t like any of it.

“Aaah, s-sir?” Meg stammered out as Jack ran his hands up her thighs, pushing her skirt up and out of his way. She was bracing herself against the desk, really unable to be any other way as Jack’s weight laid against her body.

“What?” Jack asked drly, his hands now making quick work of the buttons on Meg’s blouse, his eyes just sorta staring past her, down at his desk.

“I’m not really sure this is such a good idea, sir…” Her voice was timid and a little nervous sounding, like she was trying to not offend him. Jack didn’t seem to mind though as he gave up on the remaining buttons and just yanked the fabric the rest of the way open. This pulled a cry from Meg and she shuddered as Jack lifted her legs so they were wrapped around his waist. He pulled her in closer, grinding his hips against hers and smiled.

“What’s a matter, princess? Don’t want me anymore?” A reoccurring theme this week, Jack thought to himself.

Meg swallowed dryly and worried over her lower lip as she felt her entire face flush. Her legs were trembling now as she stared up her boss, trying to hold onto what little strength she had to resist him.

“It’s not that, Jack, sir, it’s just I-” She was cut off as Jack lunged forward for her neck, his teeth sinking ever so slightly into the skin and nipping gently at it. Meg tilted her head back as a startled moan escaped her and she relaxed a bit into Jack’s hold. Jack chuckled against her skin before kissing at the little wound he had created.

“Atta girl, that sounds more like the tune I wanted to hear.”

Meg felt herself slipping farther and farther, her lust for him consuming her as he continued his welcomed assaulted on her. She had missed them being like, Jack using her whenever he needed to blow off some steam. He had stopped calling for her once he and Rhys had gotten more involved and-

Rhys!

Meg’s eyes shot up and she sat up quickly, shoving Jack away from her and scrambled to get up from the desk. Jack let out a confused cry as he was pushed and stood there with this hands held open, a frustrated look on his face.

“What the hell, sweetheart? We were just getting to the good part, what are you doing?” Jack tried reaching for her again, but she swiftly moved away, her fingers quickly trying to do her buttons back up. Once that was done, she pulled her skirt back down and attempted to smooth her hair back down.

“What are you doing, Jack?” Meg shook her head slowly, her brows pulling together as she gave Jack an accusing look.

“Well, I thought it was pretty obvious what I was doing, but I’d be happy to make it clearer for you,” Jack laughed awkwardly as he took a few steps closer to her. Meg moved back, a hand clutching her shirt as she began to shake her head more rapidly.

“No Jack, I mean what are you doing? Why are you trying to sleep with me? What about Rhys? Think of how upset he’d be if he found out.” The question made Handsome Jack flinch and he turned away from her briefly and shrugged.

“What about him? He’s ancient history, what do I care?”

Even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew the look on it, just by hearing his voice. Carefully, Meg approached her boss, her hand gently resting on his arm as she pulled him back towards her. Jack resisted at first but eventually turned to face her once again.

“Sir, I don’t know what happened and you don’t have to tell me, but I do know that you do care.” She knew she was touching on a sensitive nerve by the way Jack was clenching his jaw over and over again and glaring down at her, but she kept going anyway. “Look, you know in the past, I’ve always been down with this,” she looked between the two of them and smiled softly. “But sir, ever since Rhys started working for you, things have been different. I see the way you look at him. I know because when you saw him for the first time, you stopped looking at me.” A soft hand reached up and gently cupped at Jack’s face, causing the older man to lean into the touch.

“I don’t even think you realize how much you’ve changed since you started seeing him. I think…” She hesitated and swallowed softly, her thumb rubbing against Jack’s face, “I think you have actual, real feelings for Rhys. And I know he has real feelings for you.”

Jack perked up a bit, a single brow raising up as she said this.

“What makes you say that?”

“Are you kidding?” Meg laughed softly and let her hand fall back to her side, “He doesn’t shut up about you all day. It’s not just a fling with the CEO of Hyperion for him. His feelings are genuine.” She nodded and stepped back from Jack, sighing softly.

“Which is why I will no longer be offering my side services to you, sir. Now, what I need from you is to stop being a dumbass, realize that you actually like this guy and go fix whatever it is you did to make him leave, before it’s too late.”

Jack narrowed his eyes and shot her a look, his arms folding over his chest.

“What makes you think it was my fault?”

“Jack…” Meg said knowingly and rolled her eyes, her head nodding over towards the front office doors. “Just go. And please be honest with him, and yourself for once. You both at least deserve that much.”

He chewed over his PA’s words for a few moments before letting out a deep sigh and nodding. He walked up to her and hugged her quickly.

“I’m sorry about your shirt, go get a new one downstairs and just have them bill it to me.” Jack smiled down at her before planting a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Thank you, Meg,” and with that, he let his PA go and headed for the door.

“Oh and remind me to give you a raise, please.” Jack smirked and winked before slipping out of the door.

“Don’t worry, I will!” Meg called after him. She slumped down into his chair once he was gone and let out a heavy sigh, fanning her face with a paper folder as she tried to get herself calmed down. “Phew, I definitely do not get paid enough for this.”

“What the fuck am I doing?” Jack asked allowed to himself as he stood outside of Rhys’ apartment building. He hadn’t called ahead to let Rhys know he was coming by, not that the kid would have answered anyway. He had made it very clear he was done with Jack and didn’t want to see him. Jack was starting to feel…nervous? A feeling he wasn’t used to having. He paced back and forth for a few minutes, talking himself out of this embarrassing situation at least a dozen times. What if Rhys slammed the door in his face or laughed at him until he was blue in the face? Worst of all, what if Jack spilled his purse all over Rhys and Rhys still ended up rejecting him? He did deserve it, sure, but that didn’t mean Jack wanted it to happen. He took a deep breath and set his sights on Rhys’ apartment, his feet willing him forward even though his head was screaming to run. Handsome Jack did not do well with the whole emotions thing, but for Rhys, he was going to god damn try.

A slightly trembling hand reached up and tapped against Rhys’ front door. Jack waited anxiously, switching his weight from foot to foot and hands fidgeting at his sides until finally the door swung open. Jack let out a soft sigh of relief as he saw Rhys’ shocked face.

“Jack? What…what are you doing here?” Rhys demanded, closing the door just enough so only half of Rhys could be seen. Jack attempted to smile, but it came out so forced, he looked a bit crazy.

“Rhysie…kiddo, I-” Jack was struggling to get out what he wanted to say. Thank god for that fucking mask because Jack was totally flustered beneath it, his cheeks burning red and skin damp with sweat. Rhys rolled his eyes and sighed, moving out of the way of the door so he could fully shut it on Jack.

Oh no, Jack thought to himself and stepped forward, planting a large hand on the door and pushed it back open.

“Rhys, please, wait. Just talk to me, five minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking and then you can tell me to fuck off if you want. Please, can I just come in?” Jack’s voice was frantic and Rhys could clearly see the desperation on the older man’s eyes. With a begrudging sigh, Rhys nodded and stepped aside so Jack could enter.

“You’ve got five minutes.”

Jack smiled and nodded, rushing inside before he could change his mind. Rhys led them over to his living room couch, a place they had been so many times before, but under happier circumstances. A lot more kissing and less clothing were usually involved. They were both silent for a little while until Jack finally sat up and carefully collected Rhys’ flesh hand into his own.

“Rhys, I’m here to say I’m sorry, which is like, not an easy thing for me, kiddo. This is practically a break through for me.” Jack laughed nervously, his brows lifting as he hesitantly smiled over at Rhys, hoping a little humor would break the tension. Rhys did not look amused one bit.

“Gee, how brave of you to power through this troubling time in your life, Jack.” Rhys’ voice was completely monotone and he had this utterly bored look on his face. He wasn’t really interested in hearing anything Jack had to say. He sighed and shifted in his seat, trying to pull his hand out of Jack’s. “Now, if you’re all finished up-”

“Rhys!” Jack finally snapped, his lips pressing into a hard line as he exhaled through his nostrils. “Listen to me, okay? I get that you’re fucking pissed at me and you have every right to be. I was an asshole who wasn’t thinking about anyone else but himself. I get it.” Jack sighed in frustration, his free hand smoothing back his hair briefly. Rhys watched him with curiosity, his hand relaxing back into Jack’s hand as he spoke. Okay, so may he could hear him out a little more. He liked what he say hearing so far.

“I…I don’t want this to be done,” Jack gestured to the space between the two of them with their joined hands and sighed softly. “I want to be with you, like really be with you. I actually like you, Rhysie.” It was clear, even with his mask on, that Jack was feeling uncomfortable, vulnerable, in that moment. He was never one to speak so openly about these types of things. It was new territory for him. Rhys stared at him for a while, his brows drawing together so the center of his forehead was a little crinkled.

“I know I hurt you, Rhys and I can never take that back, but I don’t want to do that anymore. I just want you,” Jack sounded more confident that time, his lips curling into a soft smile. He gently squeezed at Rhys’ hand and instinctively leaned in a bit closer to him, his body just happy to be near the other man. Rhys swallowed slowly, his eyes welling up the tiniest bit. Could this be for real? Could Handsome Jack really become a one person type of guy? Rhys thought about it for a little while, his face registering all types of different emotions as he did. Jack watched him nervously, biting at his lips as he tried to stay quiet and let Rhys think. Then, Rhys finally looked up at him and spoke.

“There’s gotta be some ground rules, Jack. I like you too, like a whole lot but I can’t share you with anyone else…If you’re mine, then you’re mine. If you start seeing anyone else, I swear to god-” Rhys was getting worked up, like he was releasing all the pain he had been holding on to the past week in one go. Jack closed the distance between him, pulling Rhys into his arms and held him tightly.

“Rhys, listen to what I’m saying,” Jack pulled back from the younger man and gently cupped his hands around Rhys’ face. “You’re overthinking– I’m yours. That’s all I want to be.” Jack flashed the most affectionate smile Rhys had ever seen. The way he was looking at Rhys, it made his whole face flush and he nodded slowly, his eyes fixated on Jack. Jack let out a soft chuckle and leaned back in, tenderly pressing his lips to Rhys’. Rhys’ eyes fluttered closed and he felt himself letting go. He believed Jack and he could tell he truly meant it when he said he was sorry. Plus, Rhys was just a fool for the man. Overcome with emotions, Rhys started to laugh and sob gently against their kiss. The sudden shift alarmed Jack and he pulled back to look at Rhys.

“Hey, hey, are you alright, pumpkin?” Jack asked softly, a hand reaching up to wipe away the tears that were streaming down Rhys’ cheeks. Rhys sniffled a little and smiled wide, letting out a joyous laugh as he practically pounced on to Jack. The younger man hugged Jack tightly and nodded, planting a few soft kisses all over Jack’s face.

“I’m great, now,” Rhys laughed and stared up at Jack for a few moments, his chin gently resting on Jack’s chest. “So are we really doing this then? Just you and me?”

Handsome Jack’s face turned soft and serious all at the same time, his eyes scanning over Rhys’ face as he slowly began to nod. He sat up, pulling Rhys along with him so he was still close to him and very gently ran his digits through Rhys’ thick, chestnut hair.

“Yeah baby, we’re doing this,” Jack whispered before pulling Rhys into another deep kiss. They both started laughing after a few moments, Rhys still crying happy tears off and on and Jack kissing away each one that broke free from his eyes.

“Just you and me.”

#erinchu writes #writing prompt #rhack #tftbl #tales from the borderlands #rhys the company man #handsome jack #rhys x jack #rhack angst #then some fluff #because i can't hurt these boys #borderlands #handsome jack x rhys #i listening to now or never #by halsey #on repeat for like ever #hahaha #it seemed to fit

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aelixandra · 6 years

Text

Dreaming On Your Feet: Chapter 26

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Aelin Galathynius is one of the newest company members of the Rifthold Ballet Theatre, and she is eager to make all of her dreams a reality. She has the talent, the ambition, the walls no one can get past, and the thick skin that no one can get under. Except for new principal dancer Rowan Whitethorn. He’s arrogant, talented, and infuriating - and they just might have more in common than they think.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Chapter 26: Movie Day

Aelin had been looking at the door for what felt like a lifetime.

She was there on time, as she always was for anything. But this wasn’t just anything.

This was a day with Rowan. Just him, just her. No one else.

Does that make it a date?

No. Just a day with my . . . best friend?

Sure. Let’s call it that.

Oh, who am I kidding? It’s a day off to have fun, so let’s make it one.

Aelin adjusted her bag on her shoulder, using her other hand to knock on Rowan’s door.

It was only half a heartbeat before it opened.

As always, she had to lift her head to meet his gaze. The edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her. “Morning!” she chirped with a grin.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Rowan said, opening the door wider for her to enter his apartment. “Are you ready to do absolutely nothing today?”

“I feel like this is going to be a lot harder than it sounds,” Aelin said with a laugh. “I’m not very good at sitting still for very long.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

“Oh, we both know you can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do myself,” Aelin countered.

Rowan barked a laugh as he took her bag from off her shoulder. “This is going to be quite a great day.”

----------

Rowan settled on the couch as Aelin popped her first movie into his TV. “What’ve you got there?” he asked.

She padded back around the coffee table, plopping down next to him. “The Two Towers,” she replied with a grin.

“Not the first or the third movies?” he asked curiously.

Aelin shrugged. “Two Towers has always been my favorite,” she said, picking up the remote as the main menu appeared. “Gandalf’s return, Merry and Pippin and the Ents, everything that happens in Rohan, the Battle of Helm’s Deep . . . I feel like you learn the most about the characters in this one.”

Rowan was inclined to agree with her. “That’s fair.”

“Oh! I almost forgot.” Aelin reached for her bag, pulling out a heating pad. “If today is about taking care of ourselves, then for the love of the gods, please use a heating pad on your shoulder.”

“Why do I need –”

“You hold most of your tension in your left shoulder, just like me,” she observed with a knowing smile. “You’re not going to make it through Romeo if you let it get worse.”

Romeo.

She knows. She figured it out.

His heart thundered in his chest. “So. . . now you know, huh?” Oh, gods, oh, gods –

Aelin turned her turquoise gaze to him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said with a wink, lifting the ice pack he had provided her onto her foot. “Now shut up and watch the movie.”

Rowan let his eyes linger on her for a few extra moments before turning his attention to the movie.

Gods, I’m in so much trouble, aren’t I?

----------

It wasn’t long before Aelin had drifted closer to Rowan on the couch. And it wasn’t long after that before his arm rested on the couch behind her. Everything about him, with him, just felt so. . . right.

She watched Aragorn and Eowyn conversing as the scene shifted to a flashback of Aragorn with Arwen, returning the jewel to his love and telling her to move on from him.

Her chest tightened. She knew what it was to feel unworthy of someone, to believe that they would be better off without you.

Her eyes burned as she looked at Arwen, whose own eyes shone with tears.

As if he read her thoughts, Rowan’s arm circled her shoulder, gently tugging her to rest her head on his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked quietly.

Aelin opted for a change of subject instead. “Is there a Lord of the Rings character you think you’re the most like?”

He looked down at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Is there one that you think I’m most like?”

“Hmm.” Aelin studied him for a moment, then looked back to the movie at Aragorn. “The first and obvious instinct would be Aragorn. The broodiness, the self-imposed expectations, the –”

“Okay, I get it,” Rowan chuckled.

“And you’re definitely as stubborn as Gimli.”

“Hey!”

“When it comes to looks, though, you’re closest to Legolas, minus the pointy ears.”

Rowan laughed. “Okay, fine. Two can play at that game.”

“Oh?” Aelin looked up at him again. “Think you have me pegged, Whitethorn?”

His eyes flashed at that. “You’re as stubborn as Sam.”

Interesting. . . “And?”

“And as loyal.” When she was silent, he continued. “And you’re as noble as Arwen. As intelligent as Legolas.”

She felt the color rise to her cheeks as he spoke, working up her courage to tell him the truth. He always deserved the truth. “I think you’re the most like Faramir though,” she said with a deep breath, turning her eyes back to the screen. Bracing herself for him to ask –

“Why do you say that?” he asked quietly.

“You’ve lost a lot,” she began tentatively. “You’re always striving to be better. To be more. Just like him. But the thing is. . . Faramir shouldn’t have to. He doesn’t have to.” She reached for his other hand, slowly lacing her fingers with his. “Because whether he knows it or not, he’s already the kind of person that the people around him need.”

Rowan was still.

Aelin held her breath, waiting for him to say something.

Then she felt his head rest lightly on hers, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. She felt him exhale, a bit shakily. Is he . . .

He muttered something into her hair, something she couldn’t understand.

She didn’t say anything, choosing instead to nestle closer to him. To the man who deserved to have all the happiness in the world.

She didn’t deserve him. There was no way the world would give her something like this, someone like him.

She just hoped that maybe, just maybe. . . she was enough.

----------

The rest of the movie was spent in silence, with some occasional chuckles at Gimli or Merry and Pippin. It had been a long time since Rowan had watched it, and he forgot how much he loved the series. It had always struck him deeply, how much the characters – and their struggles – resonated with him.

As the credits began to roll, he felt Aelin shift beside him. “I love that movie,” she sighed.

“Excellent way to start the day,” he agreed. He moved to stand up from the couch, heading to the TV and taking out the disc.

“So what do you have now?” she asked.

“How about something a little more lighthearted?” He made his way back towards the kitchen, taking a bowl of berries out of the fridge. “I’ve got a snack, too.” He set the bowl on the coffee table in front of Aelin, along with a smaller bowl of sugar.

She looked up at him in surprise. Okay, so maybe he had asked Lysandra what Aelin liked to munch on. . .

He gave her a wink and shrugged, sitting back down next to her as Pirates of the Caribbean began.

“Good choice, Whitethorn,” she said, nodding in approval.

“The first one’s still the best,” he replied with a smile. Then he noticed that the blue ice pack was lying on the coffee table – and there was no way it was still frozen. He immediately stood up again and picked it up.

“Hey, I can get it –”

“I’m making sure you’re not doing anything, remember?” he called from the kitchen. He always kept two ice packs in the freezer, so after he put the un-frozen one back, he took out the other.

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Aelin huffed when he came back, handing her the frozen pack as he plopped back on the couch.

“I know you can, Aelin. Gods above, I know you can.” Rowan ran a hand through his hair. “But that doesn’t mean that you have to all the time.”

Her eyes softened. Rowan took her hand again, this time lifting it to his lips briefly before they lapsed into comfortable silence again.

“Do I get to help with dinner at least?” Aelin asked after a while.

Rowan chuckled. “Maybe.”

----------

Aelin did get to help with dinner after all.

Turns out Rowan had planned to make chicken parmesan, her favorite Italian dish. So naturally, Aelin had to make sure he got everything right.

She showed him how to season the tomatoes, how to fry the chicken just right so it wouldn’t burn. He took it all in, studying every movement she made when she was cooking. Of course, she let him do some of the work, too.

And they ended up with some of the best chicken parmesan Aelin had ever had.

Now, they were back on the couch – and the Disney movies had come out. The Emperor’s New Groove was followed by The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and they decided they’d watch one more before calling it a night.

“Here’s what I’ve got left,” Aelin said, holding up her bag for Rowan to browse. “You can pick the last one.”

Rowan rifled through the movies before pulling one out. “One of my favorites,” he admitted, gesturing to her copy of Hercules that he now held.

“Rowan Whitethorn is admitting to liking Disney movies?” Aelin drew back in mock surprise. “I’ve felt terrible for picking the last two, and here you were, secretly enjoying both!”

Rowan chuckled. “Okay, yes, I do enjoy Disney movies. Some infinitely more than others.” He moved to put it into the TV. “I could totally see you as Meg. For all the good reasons,” he clarified, coming back to sit by her.

“I take that as an absolute compliment,” Aelin said. “I could totally see you as awkward teenage Hercules, too.”

Rowan barked a laugh. “Well, you wouldn’t be far off, to be honest.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about awkard teenage Rowan.”

Rowan settled in beside her, opening his arm for her to nestle into again. Her hand found his automatically as the Muses began to sing on the screen. “Someday I’ll tell you all about him.”

----------

Hercules was, in all seriousness, one of Rowan’s favorite animated movies. It was one of the ones he had grown up with, one that had always given young Rowan something to strive for.

“Remember that whole training montage scene?” Rowan asked. “There was a rope swing by a lake near where I grew up. I may or may not have pretended to be Hercules when I swung into the lake as a kid.” He smiled at the memory.

But Aelin was quiet.

“What, no smart remarks? No comments about imagining little me pretending to be Hercules?” he asked. Still, she didn’t respond. He shifted to get a look at her face.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft and steady.

Aelin was asleep.

Rowan smiled. “I know you can’t hear me right now, but I just want to tell you that today was one of the most fun days I’ve ever had,” he whispered. He looked back at the screen, where Hercules was diving into the river of Death to retrieve Meg’s soul. “What is it Zeus says? ‘A true hero is defined by the strength of his heart,’ or something like that.”

Rowan brushed a stray lock of golden hair out of Aelin’s face, his fingers combing through the ends. “Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?” he said softly. “It reminds me of the color of the sun in the fall. Or that night that you were in the studio and you told me about Sam . . . your hair looked like the embers of a fire when you walked away.” He swallowed the lump in his throat at the memory. He looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms – this beautiful, brave, incredible woman. “And I remember going home that night and thinking that letting you walk away was the craziest, stupidest thing I had ever done.”

“People always do crazy things – when they’re in love.”

Rowan’s head shot up to look at the screen. He sighed, lightly resting his head on Aelin’s.

“Gods, they sure do, don’t they?”

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trollhunter94 · 6 years

Text

Close To The Edge

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Others: Sam and Dean, Crowley, Meg Masters and Dick Roman

Warnings: Cannon Divergence, Torture

Words: 2.9K

A/N: Part 6 of the Castiel Soulmate Series. Here’s Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, __ Part 7

Summary: Castiel deals with the thought that you are dead. Meanwhile, the brothers take Crowley to an abandoned warehouse where a certain Demon is waiting, ready to join the fight.

Castiel had been sitting in the same spot for long enough now to see the sun rise. That spark of purpose that willed him to keep on fighting had been savagely ripped away. You were dead. He was certain of it.

He didn’t want to stand up or do anything productive. The emotional pain had buried itself inwards, applying a constant and heavy pressure to his vessel’s organs, making him completely immobile.

He had searched every inch of that burning warehouse for you, or what was left of you. After finding only burned remains of your backpack, he sat down and listened for you, for any presence of your soul. But there was no sign, no inkling that you were still alive in this messed up and forsaken world.

Even though he’d only known you for two days, the connection that he had felt to you was unfamiliar and indescribable. Now that he had seen the course of your life through memory and touched the pureness of your soul, he felt attached to everything about you.

But, you were now gone. Pulled away from his side, never to return. He blamed himself as Dean’s words rang through his mind: “She’s an untrained civilian. Placing her in the centre of this mess, will only get her killed. She’d last two minutes in there, tops”.

Although you lasted more than ten minutes and managed to rig the trucks, Dean was right about one thing. It got you killed. At least, that was what Castiel thought.

Meanwhile, after several hours of driving, the brothers were close to St Louis on their way to Roman HQ, along interstate 70. The boys were currently discussing the decision to let you fight with them.

“I think it’s a good thing” Sam gestured with a shrug of his shoulders. “Cas has been a little off his game lately and”...

“Yeah, and can you blame him?” Dean interrupted, justifying the Angel’s recent behaviour. “He’s been through the grinder this past year. I’d be worried if he wasn’t”. Dean scratched his nose as he listened to Sam’s opinion on the matter.

“I know, but this time he’s not alone, you know? He’s got her to help him”.

“What? Like he didn’t have us?” Dean questioned, feeling a little hurt. Sam was quick to correct himself. “No, I mean in an intimate way, you know. A human companion will maybe help him to see the emotional side and fragile nature of things. Do you know what I mean?”

Dean was silent for a moment as he thought about Castiel’s tendency to jump into situations without a second thought of the human casualty. Whilst he does believe that Cas only has good intentions, a little humility wouldn’t go amiss.

“Yeah. That’s what makes me worry though” he admitted. “What if he does get attached to Y/N and then something happens to her? If she dies, it will break him”.

“Yeah, I see your point”. Sam’s hand ran through his hair as he pondered the many possible situations in which you could become a liability to their mission. If you were kidnapped, that was leverage to be held against Castiel. If you were killed, that would definitely divert his focus on revenge.

At a loss, Sam let out a small sigh, hands rubbing against his knees as he conjured up their only option. “Let’s just hope that he keeps her out of serious danger”.

“Yeah” Dean snorted with pessimism. “Let’s hope”.

As the minutes passed and miles of shrubbery flew by, they eventually arrived at their next destination.

“Turn in here” Sam advised, pointing to the oncoming road on the right. Dean followed his Brother’s request, leading the car down a side-road and up to a warehouse.

Dean switched off the ignition and looked up sceptically through his wind-shield at the old and abandoned building. “This is where you wanted to go? Have you got some kind of property renovation or hobo fetish you’re not telling me about?”

Sam shook his head with closed eyes and a smile, deflecting Dean’s quirky insult. “No. Just came to get a few things. Help me get Crowley out?”

After an unconvinced eye squint from Dean, the boys swiftly stepped out and made their way over to the trunk. Dean popped the hood and a smile plastered his face as Crowley’s sweaty and dishevelled figure was revealed.

Sam, once again, yanked Crowley out without any sensitivity. The King of Hell stumbled onto the gravel before straightening his posture and addressing his captors. “Come on boys. What’s with all the hostility? I thought we were friends”.

Dean scoffed at his statement. “Friends? You tried to kill us, Crowley. Not to mention the conspiring with Cas to open up Purgatory”.

Sam was quick to jump in with the blame game. “This whole mess is your fault”.

“How is it my fault”? he retorted defensively. “Your Angel was the one who swallowed all those Leviathans. All I did was suggest the idea”.

“Exactly!” was all Dean needed to say, grabbing his sleeve and leading him into the warehouse. Sam was quick to find a rickety, wooden chair and placed it in the middle of the room before pulling a spray can out of his bag, giving it a shake.

Plonking Crowley down on the chair, Dean stepped back and pointed a finger at him. “Sit there and be quiet. If I hear so much as a snarky comment, you’ll be gagged for the rest of this journey”. Crowley’s eyes were full of both defiance and reluctant acceptance as he glared harshly at the eldest Winchester.

As Sam drew the trap along the floor, Dean paced the room, taking in the sight of broken windows and dust-covered machines. “What are we even doing here Sammy?”

“It’s just a pit-stop. We’re waiting for someone” he replied as he finished spraying and stood up, wiping his hands on his jacket. “Who?” Dean questioned sceptically, cautious of Sam’s secretiveness.

“A friend” Sam explained. “Trust me”.

“We don’t have any friends” Dean said, trying to think of who Sam had been talking to. Maybe it was another Hunter.

A figure soon appeared in the doorway. “Hello boys” a familiar voice called to them. Dean shot his head round to see Meg standing there. Before he had a chance to react, Crowley voiced his concern. “Hey! That’s my line”.

Dean’s gaze sharply turned to his brother with a cold expression. “Really Sam? Meg? That’s who’s helping us?”

“It’s nice to see you too Dean” she retorted, feeling slightly offended. Here comes the ‘Demons are second class citizens’ bullshit again.

Dean’s lack of tolerance was portrayed by the look on his face as he swivelled back around to face her. “What do you want, Meg? We’re kind of busy here?”

“I come bearing gifts” she said before looking down at the floor with a fake sadness. “But since I’m not welcome here, I’ll just take this Alpha blood with me”. As she held the vial out in front of her, Dean’s eyes instantly widened with intrigue.

“Whoa, whoa. Just hold on a second” he held his hands up defensively. Meg shifted an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. What was that?”

Dean’s face dropped as he turned and shared a look with Sam. He knew that she wanted an apology, or at least some recognition for helping them. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping us Meg. We really appreciate it”.

She smiled sarcastically at his words before throwing the vial of blood to him. “You know, I’ve got just as much reason to destroy that grade A asshole. Humans aren’t the only ones on Dick’s hit list”.

She reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out the familiar sight of the Colt. “Here’s your gun back” she said, passing it over to Sam. Dean’s eyes followed the Colt with a shocked expression and a pointed finger. “Wh- what, where? How?”

His eyes quickly narrowed at Sam with the feeling of another betrayal. “Excuse us a moment” he said as he grabbed the sleeve of Sam’s jacket and lead him to a corner of the room.

“Dude! What the hell? You gave her the Colt? His voice was raised in anger as his little brother had once again, gone behind his back.

“Dean. She’s on our side. She was willing to kill an Alpha to put Dick down”.

“I couldn’t give a rat’s-ass, Sam. You lied to me, again!”

Sam’s arms flew up in frustration. “This is why I didn’t tell you Dean. Because I knew you wouldn’t even give the idea a chance”.

“Of course I wouldn’t” he admitted, throwing his hands up. “But that’s not the point. It’s the keeping shit from me, like that crap you did with Ruby. We’ve been chasing the Colt for days now and you’ve just sat shotgun this whole time, watching me run around like an idiot. That’s not teamwork, Sam. It’s sabotage”.

Sam took a deep breath, shaking off the harsh reminder of his past. “Look, I’m sorry for not telling you. But we’ve got the rest of the ingredients within our reach now. All we need is Crowley’s blood and Cas’, then we can kill Dick for good”. There was still a look of frustration in Dean’s eyes as Sam pleaded to him.

“Please, Dean. Let Meg help us. We all know that Crowley’s not gonna give it up without a fight”. Dean took a moment to think about it. Sam was right. But he was still pissed about the way he went about it.

“Uh, we’ll talk about this later” he dismissed the argument and held out his hand. “Give it to me”. Sam passed the gun over without hesitation, where Dean snatched it and put it in his waistband before walking back over to Meg.

“So how are you going to convince Mr sunshine and daisies over there to give a blood donation?”

The smile that transfixed Meg’s face was full of evil intent, enacting on some revenge of her own. “Oh, I’ve got certain powers of persuasion. Besides, you boys have made my job easier, seeing as he can't go anywhere”.

Sam walked around the trap, admiring his handy work. "It should hold for now. Let's hope these powers of yours are enough".

A snort of sarcastic denial came from the Demon King. Crowley was resisting the urge to mock, but ultimately failed as the words came falling from his mouth. “It didn’t take much persuasion for you to betray your king, you little whore”.

Both Sam and Dean widened their eyes at his insult. Meg didn’t reply, but walked up to the devil’s trap and slapped Crowley across the face with force. Dean couldn’t help but laugh, this was turning out to be a good day.

Crowley lifted his head back up and licked his bottom lip, looking at Meg with a taunting amusement. “Is that all you’ve got? I knew you were pathetic, clinging on to whoever’s got the best chance of survival. You’re nothing but a parasite, to Humans and Demons alike. Nobody wants you around, you little bitch”.

This seemed to infuriate Meg, causing her to approach Crowley and throw a mighty punch towards his throat. The weight of her swing forced the chair to swing backwards, crashing to the floor. Crowley groaned, rolling on his side amongst the broken pieces of wood.

Meg turned around to see the Brothers reactions, not being disappointed by their faces of shock and admiration. “That was awesome” Dean praised with a wide smile.

“Thanks” she said, before something hit her against the back, gaining her attention. She turned around to face Crowley but was met with a chair leg flying towards her face. And then another.

Refusing to give up, Crowley threw each piece of wood towards the pesky Demon with defiance. She attempted to block the harrowing onslaught but gained a few cuts and splinters to the face. Eventually, her patience wore out.

Stepping forward, she clenched her fist and used her power to send Crowley to his knees.

Crowley was now on the other side of torture. Experiencing the pain of having his internal organs crushed was not what he’d expected. After nothing but groans of pain from across the room, Dean stepped forward to try a different tactic. “Give it up, Crowley. She's not gonna stop”.

“Okay. Okay” he surrendered, holding his hands up with defeat, causing Meg to release her hold on him. “You can have my blood. But you lumberjacks are still missing a key ingredient”.

Dean’s eyes darted to the side and back as Castiel jumped into his thoughts. God, he hoped that you and Cas were okay.

You awoke to the sight of total darkness, face covered by a black hood over your head. An attempt to move your arms made you realise that both your hands and legs had been restrained. Breathing heavy, you turned your head to listen as someone entered the room. No, two people.

The sound of footsteps became overshadowed as they began to converse. “The Sucro-Corp trucks have been destroyed”.

A deeper, yet calmer voice entered the conversation. “How did this happen?”

“It was her, Sir. We found her in the warehouse. She was with the Angel”.

An annoyed groan was short-lived when he laid eyes upon you. “Excellent. Well let’s meet our new guest, shall we?” One of the men walked behind you. Lifting the hood off your head, light suddenly burning your retinas until they began to focus on your surroundings. An office room.

The blurred silhouette in front of you was now visible as the famous Dick Roman, standing smugly and smiling at you.

“Hi there“, he greeted you, crouching down to your eye level. “And what do we have here?” You tugged at your restraints, fearful of what this creature was capable of. “Let me go!” you demanded, hoping that they would see you as just an innocent bystander.

He placed a hand to his chest with fake sympathy. “You know what? I would like nothing more than to send you merrily on your way. But, it seems you’ve been busy destroying my things with that sad excuse of an Angel. Now, I need to know, who else is a part of this little scheme to ruin my plans?”

“I’m… I. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who are you people, and what the hell am I doing here?” You played on the fact he had no idea who you were. “Let me go, or I will sue your ass”.

“Oh, quite the demanding one, aren’t you?” He smirked before standing up and slowly pacing the floor. “I know you’re playing dumb with me. If you refuse to tell me who else you’re working with, then I’ll just have to pry it out of you by force”.

He stopped pacing and stared at you expectantly, waiting for a confession. At this point, your thoughts had taken over, dreading and debating how this interaction could pan out.

He gave the man who stood behind you, a nod of his head. This prompted the man to move across the room and up to a large cart that was covered by a white, plastic sheet. He gripped the covering and pulled it away to reveal a display of metal tools and instruments.

You watched as Dick strolled over to the selection and picked up a three-pronged fork. You involuntarily swallowed at the sight of the long and sharp weapon. This was not how you expected this adventure to end; being killed by the bad guy.

He approached you again, gently taking hold of one hand, straightening your fingers and placing the fork under three of your fingernails. “Now. I’m going to ask you once, and only once. Who else knows that you and Castiel were in that warehouse?”

You quickly debated your options. You could keep your mouth shut and endure the torture, maybe give some false names or give in and hand over the Winchester brothers. You chose option one, reluctantly.

A prolonged silence forced Dick to follow through on his promise. “Very well. This is most definitely going to hurt”. He pushed on the instrument, forcing the prongs under your fingernails. The pain was excruciating, causing your arm to spasm against the restraint and involuntary screams to fall from your mouth as the sensitive skin was penetrated.

You were not prepared for this level of pain. Your head hit the back of the chair, desperation for relief coursed through you like severe dehydration, reaching out for something to soothe. Your spirit was unconsciously calling for one thing in particular. Castiel.

At that moment, Castiel was standing inside the hotel room from last night. This was the first place he was drawn to, the freshest reminder of you. After lying down on the bed for several minutes, wishing he could turn back time, he stood up and began to pace the room.

He was thinking about how to tell Sam and Dean of this tragic news, when the lights above him began to flicker violently.

His eyes shot upwards at the instant feel of your presence. The way that you were trying to connect to him through pure emotion and willpower created such an energy that his chest began to fill with a feeling of golden warmth.

A weight was gradually lifting off his shoulders, relief now coursing through him. You were alive!

Thanks for reading. Here’s Part 7 .

Tags:

@uselessace @superheavymetalunicorn @sumara62 @eziggyra @spookysculderfiles @doritoevansxwinterschildren @cabbitholeresearch @acheloishe

#castiel x reader #soulmate series #spn reader insert

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meganlpie · 6 years

Text

An Artist’s Muse

Anonymous asked: Meg, I’d love for you to continue TToBB whenever you can! As for a request, could I please get a Steve Rogers one? Preserum!Steve is in love with Bucky’s other best friend, who’s a girl. But Steve being Steve, doesn’t really know how to talk to her, but she thinks he’s adorably sweet and maybe asks him to draw her as a present for someone? I’d like some angst and fluff, please????

Here you go, lovely! I do not own Steve. He belongs to Marvel.

Warnings: Angst and fluff and it’s a bit long

Pairings: Pre-serum Steve Rogers x fem!reader

“Paint me like one of your French girls.” The movie in the background continued, but Steve wasn’t paying attention after that line. The memories floated into his head before he could stop them and made his eyes well up with tears. He quickly excused himself and headed for his room.

Once there, he went into this closet and grabbed the package still wrapped in paper. The one he hadn’t looked at since he woke up from the ice. He carefully unwrapped its contents and smiled when he saw the portrait. The one he did of you all those years ago. When you surprised him by asking him to draw you.

*back in the 40s*

"Why does this always happen to me?“ Steve thought to himself as he watched you laughing with Bucky. "Why do I always fall for the doll I can’t have?” You were Bucky’s other best friend so you spent a lot of time with Steve too. For Steve, that was probably the hardest thing in the world. Seeing you all the time, knowing you would never be his. Not only was he too small and sickly for you, but he also couldn’t seem to talk to you without tripping over his words.

So, he never said anything to you about what he felt. Instead, he kept to himself, writing his thoughts down. Or rather, drawing them. Without meaning to, Steve had come to see you as his muse. He drew pictures of you all the time. He kept his pictures hidden away as best he could, but you found them one day.

You and Bucky were visiting Steve shortly after his mother passed away. Steve and Bucky had gone out to grab a few things and you decided you were going to tidy up a bit and dust a little since Steve couldn’t because of his asthma. While you were cleaning, you accidentally knocked one of Steve’s books off a shelf and some papers slid out.

Thinking you had torn the book somehow, you picked up the book and pages to see if you could put it back together. Instead what you found were several beautifully done sketches of you. You sat there staring at Steve’s drawings for several minutes, your heart racing in your chest. What did this mean? Did Steve have feelings for you or was he just looking for someone to draw? If it was the latter, why were they hidden away?

You didn’t want Steve to know that you had seen his drawings yet, so you quickly put them away and placed the book back on the shelf. You continued cleaning absentmindedly. Your thoughts kept traveling back to the pictures you’d seen. They were good, very good. They made you look more beautiful than you actually were, but you still wondered why Steve had drawn them and then hidden them away.

The next day, you returned to Steve’s home with a pounding heart. This time, you had come without Bucky. You knew Steve would deny your request right away if Bucky had come with you. He’d be nervous about it and you didn’t want that. You liked Steve a great deal. He was sweet and adorable and funny. He had problems talking to women, but you found it endearing. That’s why you wanted to do this.

You knocked on the door with a shaky hand. It opened a moment later and Steve looked at you in surprise. “Y/N?” You flashed him a smile. “Mind if I come in, Ace?” Steve shook his head and moved to let you in. Once you were inside, you felt the nerves kick in. “Bucky’s not here,” Steve told you sadly. “I know that. I came to see you.”

"Me? Why?“ You took a deep breath and set your purse down on the table. "I saw them, Steve. The sketches you keep hidden in that book.” You indicated which book you were talking about and Steve’s face turned as red as a tomato. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Doll.” You laughed softly.

"You didn’t, Steve. I’m flattered and I wondered, well…that is, if you wanted to-“ you cut yourself off because you knew you were rambling. "If I wanted to what?” he pressed, his face still red. “If you wanted to draw me for real, like a portrait of some kind. I’d really like to gift it to someone special and you’re the only person I trust to get my features right.” Steve’s mouth hung open in shock. “Really? You want me to draw you? Like a professional?” You nodded. “Only if you want to. I’ll even pay you if you agree to it.”

"I won’t take your money, Y/N.“ You smiled. You figured he wouldn’t, but you had to try. "So you want me to do a portrait? You’d pose for me?” You nodded again. “W-Would it be, um-” he was struggling to say the word, so you supplied it for him. “Nude? It can be, but I will leave that up to you. I trust you, Steve.” Steve cleared his throat after a minute and said, “I’ll do it.”

*time skip*

You posed as still as you could while you and Steve talked. His brows were furrowed in concentration and his hands were gliding over the page in front of him. He really was a talented artist and a considerate one. He would give you as many breaks as you needed and he never snapped at you to stay still except when he was sketching your face. And he apologized right after.

During your weeks of posing with him, you got to know Steve even more. When you weren’t working on the portrait, Steve was too nervous to actually talk much, but when he was in his element, he opened up like a flower. It only made you like him more and you hoped he was enjoying your company.

He was. Steve loved sketching you and he really liked the conversation. He was grateful that he could draw while he talked because it made it easier for him to speak to you and get closer to you. The intimate setting and the fact that you were wearing a sheet didn’t distract him because he was working.

What did distract him was the thought of you giving this to someone special. You’d never clarified who that someone special was so Steve could only assume you had a beau that you were close to. Perhaps you were even planning on marrying him. That hurt Steve, but he never showed it. Not until the portrait was done.

"It’s finished,“ Steve declared sadly. You clutched the sheet to your chest and came around to look at it. Your jaw dropped and your eyes filled with tears. It was a masterpiece. "Steve, it’s…” you couldn’t seem to find the right word to tell him how you felt. “Is it bad? Do you not like it?”

"I love it, Steve. It’s amazing. You make me look so beautiful.“ Steve laughed. "You are beautiful, Doll. You’re the most beautiful dame I’ve ever met.” You felt yourself heat up. “You’re too sweet. Thank you for this, Steve.” It nearly killed him to let you take his masterpiece. He didn’t want another man to see what he had. He knew another wouldn’t appreciate the beauty that he had captured.

As Steve was about to hand it to you, he froze. “I can’t.” Your smiled turned into an expression of confusion. “I can’t let you take this and give it someone else.” A frown made its way onto your lips. “Why not?” Steve sighed. “Because I don’t want anyone else to see you like this. I want to be the only one…it makes me feel special. Like I have a special place in your life that no one else can take.”

You let out a breathy laugh that turned into a giggle. “Oh, Stevie. You don’t get it do you?” He asked what you meant. “I only asked you to draw me so we could spend more time together without Bucky. I never intended on giving that to anyone. It would be for my eyes only until or unless I marry. I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon.”

Steve stared at you in disbelief. “You only wanted to spend time with me?” You nodded. “Of course.” Steve handed you the picture. “I’m glad. I’ve been carrying a torch for you for a long time,” he admitted softly. You smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Me too, Steve.”

Steve remembered the day he got the portrait back. He had come back to New York after the experiment and you were nowhere to be found. He searched for you and tried to call before he even went home. It wasn’t until he had gone back home that he saw them. A letter attached to the front of a package. The letter told him that you had decided to become a nurse to help the troops and that you loved him and hope to see him again.

Then, Steve had opened the package to find the portrait he’d done. With the portrait there was another note. It read: “There’s no one I’d rather give this to than you. Forever yours, Y/N.” Steve treasured that portrait when he went on the ice and he still treasured it today. For him, it would always be a reminder of his first love and his greatest muse.

(a/n: I hope this is what you wanted! P.S. can I please find a gif of Steve without having to go through a thousand Bucky ones? I mean, I love Bucky but when I’m looking for Steve, I want Steve. Okay, rant over.)

Tagging: @brewsthespirit-blog @gameofwinters @fairytalesexistxx @jotink78 @iwillbeinmynest

#marvel #avengers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader

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spaceorphan18 · 6 years

Text

Changed For the Better 12 [Klaine Advent Day 12]

Rating: SF for Shenanigans and 4th wall breaking Word Count: 2372 Summary: AU - Kurt’s a struggling actor living in New York, and is currently working on a Made-for-TV movie starring Cooper Anderson.

A/N: Written for Klaine Advent Day 12: Limited

Thank you to the ever eloquent @snarkyhag for taking a look at this <3

LINK TO A03

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11]

///

Changed for the Better - Part 12/24: Firework

Kurt was pretty sure he had had this fantasy once -- being trapped in a room full of very attractive guys in prep school outfits. The reality of it was much less than ideal. Brett, who sat on the couch to his left, smelled as though he hadn’t showered in about a week. Tyler, on the other side, kept elbowing him whenever he had a line - or became too enthusiastic following the plot. Sean, who was standing behind the couch, had on a staticy sweater that kept messing up his hair. Kurt kept glancing to the clock on the wall, hoping this would eventually all be over.

They were one week before the start of the show, and to the point where their run-throughs were in-costume.

There was still one scene, however, that was taking forever to get through, and Artie was having them run it multiple times to get the timing right. The entire cast was on stage where Sam’s character was getting advice on his love life and all the other guys in the school, apparently, needed to weigh in. Blaine had told him it was a scene straight out of his own life - when he had asked for help to serenade some guy who worked at the mall. The scene was utterly ridiculous.

The only bright spot was that he was able to stare at Blaine without fear of really being noticed. He was supposed to be looking adoringly at Sam - the object of his unrequited affection. But it was easy enough to shift his eyes slightly to the left and watch Blaine. Blaine - who looked like he was born to wear the dark blue blazer; Blaine - who kept breaking character and sneaking looks over to Kurt, even once giving him a wink; Blaine - who was undoubtedly and by far the most interesting person in the room. Forget the prep school fantasy of guys fawning all over him. He just wanted one guy. Very badly. To the point that he felt like he was going to explode if something didn’t happen soon.

Kurt began to spend more of the rehearsal time doodling in his notebook. No one was paying any attention to him, it’s not like he was integral to the story anyway. Thinking about his own time as a teenager, he drew a little heart, and without helping himself, wrote a little K + B inside. Then, feeling foolish because he was an adult now, crossed it out.

After rehearsal, Kurt took his time getting out of costume. The other guys had all left in a hurry but he knew Blaine had held back to talk with Artie, so he lingered, hoping to catch Blaine as he left. Kurt pretended to be focusing on his phone when Blaine finally made his way back to the dressing rooms.

“Waiting for me?” Blaine asked with a grin, lightly brushing his arm.

“What, no?” Kurt tried to play it cool, but subtlety had never been his forte and he began to fumble over his own words. “Rachel is having a meltdown over her show and needed some advice right now. You’ve met her - you know what she’s like. So, I had to text her. It’s fine now, though.”

“Uh-huh.”

Kurt wasn’t sure why he was being so defensive. It wasn’t like he and Blaine didn’t walk out together nearly every night.

“Well, I’m glad you waited,” Blaine said. “Wanna get a late coffee or something? I was wondering if you wanted to help with marketing strategy -- you know, since your movie had such success. Artie has some questionable ideas... I mean I know he’s the director, but I’m not entirely sure I like the direction he’s going. He wants to do something gritty and artsy - something about bags floating in the wind.”

While he talked, Blaine took off the blazer, and carefully put it on its hanger -- then proceeded to undress the rest of the way until he was down to his undershirt and boxers. Kurt tried to focus on whatever weird marketing decision Artie was making and not on Blaine’s well-defined arms. Not on the tease of chest hair. Kurt bit his lip. Marketing, right.

“Sure, I’d be happy to give you my opinion.”

Blaine bent over to fish something out of his duffle bag -- his boxer-clad butt now on glorious display in front of Kurt.

“Butt…” Kurt choked out. Oh god! Why did he just say that?

Blaine turned to give him an odd look. “But what?”

Just do it Hummel just do it dammit

“But,” Kurt said, trying to recover quickly. “Actually, I was wondering if, maybe, you’d like to have dinner?”

“Oh, sure,” Blaine said easily. He was already scrolling through his phone (the thing he took out of his bag), and apparently not aware of how nervous Kurt was in asking. “I’ve been meaning to try the new hotdog stand around the corner. Apparently, Trent says they have amazing chili dogs.”

“Well, actually,” Kurt’s voice was slightly higher than usual. Why was this so hard? It was Blaine. Everything had been easy with Blaine. This should be easy. “I was thinking maybe some place nicer? Like the Italian place next to my place?”

“Isn’t that place a little fancy?” Blaine’s eyes were still glued to his phone.

“Well, yeah, but maybe we could meet there in, say, an hour. Time to change and look nice and…”

“Oh, my god!” Blaine’s eyes were wide from whatever he had been reading on his phone. “This is kind of crazy.”

“What?”

“Jerry just asked me out.”

Jerry? Who the hell was Jerry?

“Um, who?” Kurt tried to stay calm.

“You know Jerry - he’s in charge of lighting for the show,” Blaine said. “We’ve been out for coffee a few times. He’s been trying to come out - so I’ve been helping him with that.”

“Seriously?”

Kurt, literally, had no idea who Blane was talking about. But more so, they had been spending nearly all their time together -- when the hell did Blaine have time to have a few coffee dates with someone who wasn’t him. And why didn’t Blaine tell him? And what the fuck was his life?

“And, you know, he just texted me asking if I’d like to go out on a real date.”

This could not be happening…

“And…” Kurt waited, unable to read what Blaine was thinking.

“Well, he’s sweet and nice, and this has been difficult for him,” Blaine said, with too much interest for Kurt’s taste. “Maybe I should say yes.”

“Just because you’re helping him doesn’t mean you owe him a date, Blaine,” Kurt said, a little too sharply.

Blaine flinched, surprised at his outburst, but let it drop. “Anyway, you were talking about an Italian food.”

The moment was ruined, Kurt was too annoyed. “You know what, chili dogs sound fine. And Blaine?”

“Yeah?’

“Will you please put some pants on?”

///

The next evening, Kurt sat in between Rachel and Mercedes on Rachel’s couch, the three of them with their feet on the coffee table, as Rachel fluttered on about her show and Mercedes flipped through the channels on the TV for something to watch. It was their weekly best friend’s night - but Kurt was in a sour mood, munching overly-buttered popcorn, trying not to think about Blaine.

“Hey, look what’s on again!” Mercedes said, delighted when Kurt’s face filled the screen. Rachel squealed and clapped her hands, excited for Kurt. Kurt’s TV-movie had been running almost on a daily marathon. It was fun, he’ll admit, to see himself on TV - but the novelty wore off quickly.

“Haven’t you guys seen this enough times already?”

“Yes, but look how cute you are on the TV,” Mercedes said - proceeding to give him a pinch on the cheek. Kurt rolled his eyes.

“Kurt, you should be thrilled!” Rachel said, shaking him. “All the press worked. Didn’t you say the network is going to make it the staple of the holiday season? You should be proud of what you did.”

“You mean of what Cooper’s ass did.”

“Well, it is a nice ass.”

“I’ve seen better.” Blaine in his underwear flashed in his mind again, making Kurt blush. He was glad they had the lights off.

“Our point,” Mercedes continued, side-eyeing Rachel, “is that you should be happy. Sure, it’s a cheesy TV-feel-good-movie. But it’ll lead to good things.”

“Okay, fine,” Kurt gave in. “But that doesn’t mean we need to watch it every time it’s on.”

Mercedes ribbed him, but taking the hint, began to flip channels again. “Let’s see… oh, guys When Harry Met Sally.”

Kurt groaned.

“Kurt, you love When Harry Met Sally,” Rachel cooed. “This is like your favorite movie of all time.”

“Yeah, when I was sixteen,” Kurt said. He watched the TV for a second - Billy Crystal giving his declaration of love to Meg Ryan at New Year’s - a moment that used to make his romantic heart melt. But maybe Brittany was right. Maybe he was just a cynic now. “It’s just so -- unrealistic. I mean, who really hooks up with their best friend? Sometimes your best friends are you best friends for a reason. And...it’s better, you know, to keep them separate.”

“Sure,” Rachel said, unconvinced.

“Uh-huh,” Mercedes added, giving Rachel a knowing look.

“What?”

“You know Jesse and I were friends before we started dating,” Rachel said.

“You were not,” Kurt replied quickly. “You jumped into that relationship when your other relationship with Brody started to go down hill.”

“Jesse and I have known each other for a while now, Kurt,” Rachel said. “We met when I first came to New York, but at the time I was figuring things out with Finn and he had a girlfriend, and we didn’t line up just right -- and we were friends. Until one day we figured things out and we became more than that. And I think one of the reasons he and I are working is because we had that friendship first.”

“And, to be honest, I still think of Sam as my friend more than my boyfriend,” Mercedes said. “That’s still weird to think about, to be honest. But Sam is cool taking it slow, and we’re both really happy.”

“And I am happy for you,” Kurt said, his sincerity authentic. He wasn’t so cold that he couldn’t see how happy his friends were in their lives. “But considering the state of my love life lately - or lack of one, I don’t exactly get excited of overly sentimental things anymore. Or movies that give you way too high expectations for what to expect in life.”

Rachel gave Mercedes another knowing look. God, that meant they were gossiping about him when he wasn’t there again.

“Kurt, this wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain raven-haired, dreamboat co-star would it?” Rachel asked.

“Who just happens to be the far more tolerable and handsome younger brother of your previous co-star,” Mercedes added with a grin.

Damn, they had been gossiping.

“Blaine and I are just friends!” he insisted.

Of course, he couldn’t fool his friends. “Uh-huh,” Mercedes said. “Kurt - you’ve been crushin’ on him since you’ve met him.”

“Yes, well, clearly he doesn’t feel the same way.” Kurt angrly picked through the popcorn bowl.

“Well, have you told him how you feel?” Rachel asked, in a soft voice.

“I mean, we spend all of our time together, sing together, go out to coffee every morning - you’d think he’d have gotten it by now.”

Mercedes let out a laugh. “Kurt, you know boys are dumb. He might be one of the ones you have to hit upside the head with a newspaper roll.”

“Well, it’s too late now - he’s going on a date with Jerry.” Kurt stuffed a whole bunch of popcorn in his mouth.

Rachel scrunched her nose. “Who’s Jerry?”

“He’s a recently out lighting technician for the show, who must have just been hired because I have never heard of him before, and whom Blaine is taking on what can only be described as a pity date, because I saw him today, and he’s not that good looking. I mean, seriously, cut your hair Jerry.”

“Well,” Mercedes considered. “That still doesn’t mean you can’t tell him how you feel.”

“Oh, Jerry probably knows how I feel…” Kurt shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth.

“I meant Blaine,” Mercedes said. “If you don’t say something, you’ll never know.”

“And when am I supposed to do that?” Kurt asked. “ Just crash his date with a declaration of love?”

Rachel sat up straight, excited. “Oh, god, Kurt! That’s fantastic. I mean, a little limited in scope, but I can work with that.”

“What are you talking about?” Kurt asked.

“Kurt, you should go on the date with them.” Clearly Rachel had lost her mind.

“Do you know how dates work?”

“Go on a double date…” Rachel clarified. “You can ask--”

“Do not say Adam.”

“I was going to say Elliott,” Rachel said.

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” Kurt said. “I’m fine with you guys and this popcorn. Who needs love when you have butter and salt.”

Rachel snagged the bowl away from him. “I’ll give you guys a couple hundred dollars - have a nice evening on me. I’m sure Elliott will do it for you - god knows we all know you need to get laid.”

Great - the girls were gossiping with Elliott now, too.

But before he could protest, Mercedes’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, you could have Elliott flirt with this Jerry guy, so so win-win for everyone.”

“Yes!” Rachel cried. “And meanwhile, maybe you could show Blaine a more… explicit way that you like him.”

“Like showing him your butt.”

“Mercedes!!”

Mercedes doubled over in a fit of giggles.

“This is just never going to work,” Kurt said. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“This is going to be brilliant,” Rachel said - completely assured.

On the TV Billy Crystal held Meg Ryan in a tight and loving embrace, and no matter how hard he tried to cover his heart with a cynical shell, the romantic in him always peaked through. God dammit. He had to at least try to get his happy ending.

#s.o. writes things #see told ya I wasn't giving up on this #:)#it'll probably take me all spring to finish it though

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