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shy-taylorsversion · 2 months

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Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping.

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often.

“Depends, who is this?”

The response was almost immediate.

“Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush.

“I’m at a bar, what do you want?”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.”

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood.

They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again.

“I miss you.”

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address.

Present, April 2011

“What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.”

Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow.

Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months.

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days.

“He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”

“Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“

“Bye, Sam.”

The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road.

It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid.

Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was.

She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out.

That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.

The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.

“C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.”

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it.

She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult.

A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.

God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point.

“You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy.

She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.

She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive.

He’d left like an assassin.

Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged.

In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect.

“I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.”

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby.

She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal.

Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms.

Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.

“I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.”

Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling.

“I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.”

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes.

The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again.

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.

“Let’s get started?”

March 2010

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front. Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second.

Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

“C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.”

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door.

“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.”

Present, April 2011

Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help.

Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then.

She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet.

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him.

Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun.

The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night.

She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor.

Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her.

She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor.

Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place.

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?”

“Yeah, You?”

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him.

“I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.

Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side.

Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop.

“What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled.

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps.

“I am fine.” She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.

The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished.

He was here, touching her, after so long.

Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting.

This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs.

The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark.

They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them.

Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.

They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.

They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.

None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her.

Now they knew she was there.

Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one.

Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact.

She swung.

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up.

Its head hit the floor.

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire.

The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment.

“Time for drinks?”

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready.

She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do. She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less.

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”

Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms.

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.” She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him.

She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut.

“Y/n, look at me.”

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.

Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft. She knew where this was going.

Dean took a deep breath before starting.

“Look, what I did-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat.

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.”

Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed.

“Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.”

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest. He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished.

“Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much.

His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears.

“Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?”

“Y/n.”

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.

“You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face.

“Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.”

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away.

“It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.”

She let out a bitter laugh.

She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go.

She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“For what it's worth, I am sorry.”

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink.

She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead.

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean.

She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.

The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night.

“I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it? Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him.

“It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.” She smiled at him.

“You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind.

The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.

Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one.

And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it.

She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester songfic #dean winchester

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wonderfulwonderrful · 6 months

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Season of Love (2/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Thank you for reading and supporting my delulu fic!

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 2: Lights out, and away your feelings go!

Australia By mere luck, Toto had one of those sponsors' events in the afternoon, and he was wearing a Tom Ford tan suit with a white shirt, a classic ensemble, instead of his usual Mercedes kit.

And you, well, you looked so chic wearing a romantic Saint Laurent satin mini dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline paired with ribbon bowtie Jimmy Choo stilettos up to the occasion.

You wave Sam goodbye as she enters the car and returns to the hotel. And then Toto and you stay standing there, not knowing what to do next.

—So, at what time is the reservation? —Toto asks you.

—In two hours, it is downtown.

—Good. We are getting there on time, right?

—Oh yeah, we can go on my c... —You look at the empty space where your Lambo was parked - well, where Michael parked it, now empty and immediately take out your phone, shit! You left it on airplane mode. All messages and missed calls start to appear, red dots everywhere. Your assistant asked if you needed the car or if they had moved it to the hotel hours ago. Later, she sent the chauffeur to pick you up, but he couldn't reach you. He waited for you a long time and left.

—My team took my car, so...

—No worries. I can take us there.

"For sure you can!" you thought. Jesus, why were you so horny lately?

Toto then texts his chauffeur, and on your way, you two go; it was a quiet ride for a bit.

—So...

You both laugh at the back of the car.

—So our minds are connected, huh? —you joke, referring to your tendency to talk at the same time.

—It's becoming a bad habit, yes —Smiles. —I was going to ask you where have you been existing. Everyone close to me seems to know you, but they never mentioned it before; I feel left out; somehow, I have no idea who you are —Toto tells you.

—First of all, I take serious offense that neither Niki nor Sam mentioned me before; how dare they? And to answer your question in Belgium. I met Niki recently and Sam forever ago but she is pretty private so I guess that's why.

—Umh, I thought Sam and I had something special, but I'm calling it quits —Toto says. —She keeps secrets from me —putting on a fake sad face.

—Welcome to da' club. She's all Lewis's now.

Then, at the restaurant.

Toto and you were greeted by a blond supermodel-looking hostess who took you to your booked table. You entered the historical building - big old brown bricked walls, high ceilings with restored wooden beams, and dark marble tile floors - barely lit with just a couple of lights strategically placed reflected on the walls. The tables were small and intimate, and all the furniture was statement pieces - wooden carved and expensive textiles - the silverware and china were spectacular. The place was a printery back in the day, and it ended up in the middle of downtown and has now turned into a Michelin-starred restaurant.

The hostess acted extra caring with Toto, taking all the time to tenderly adjust his blindfold and explain every single step and detail of the dining experience. Since he couldn't see her, she went all handsy, relying on touch a bit much, and for obvious reasons, she tied your blindfold too tight. Really, girl?! Sorority like in where?

—So it's crucial for the experience when you give the food to each other, slowly savor the flavors and then start a conversation about each dish, what it made you feel, what reminded you of, what you thought it was, taking turns —she tells you two as she takes each your hand and makes you feel the space where a single plate full of finger food where to be placed - on top of a marble "lazy susan." —Please let me know if you need me —a lot of emphasis on "need me" and more addressed to Toto than you.

Wait, what?! Give each other the food?! What on earth?! You are so glad Toto isn't able to see you because, for sure, you are tomato red. Then you hear the hostess walk away.

—I frequent high-cuisine restaurants all over the world, yet I haven't dared with this one. It has so many mixed reviews —Toto tells you.

—I met the Chef at an auction gala for charity. He sat at our table and sold us the idea, which sounded exciting and intrigued me, so I told him I would stop by when in Melbourn —you add. He never mentioned that we had to feed each other during the experience.

A moment later, the dish arrived, and the experience began. Your hands were shaking a little bit. Your days went from ignoring Toto's bare existence to placing food into his mouth now.

—By all means, you go first —He offers you. Why did he have to be a gentleman?!

—Sure, thanks —You don't know where to start, so you pick a bite and stay there frozen when Toto notices it softly grabs your hand to guide you to his mouth to avoid you pocking him an eye with the food. Many "Oh god, oh god" fill your mind. You could sense him slowly biting the food from your fingers, his warm breaths on your skin, while hearing soft crunch noises.

He munches. And you wait, hand now resting on the table.

—Soft skin —he says.

—That is what it tasted you like?!

—No, of course not —Toto softly chuckles. —You have soft skin. The bite tasted like, amh, some sort of Gnocchi, but it wasn't. I'm not a big fan of this one and its flavor.

—So you like Italian cuisine?

—Everyone likes Italian cuisine, duh.

—Excuse you? That attitude, Sir! —you flirt, I mean, joke with him.

—Yes! I used to spend the summers in Italy with my family. It is a country that reminds me of my father. Cinque Terre has a special place in my heart.

—You miss your dad —You say before thinking, shit! Now he will assume that Sam and you gossip about him or think you Googled him. Shit! You are supposed to not know anything about him. Lol, if he knew. —It must be hard being away from family all the time with this busy schedule —Smart girl... Good save..?

He looks at you, a bit confused. —Ahm, yes. I miss my dad.

—Okay, it's my turn! —you shift topics quickly and naturally.

Toto picks up a small bite, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, guiding him to your mouth. Your thumb finger could feel his pulse, which weirdly relaxes you. You bite the food slowly, and your lips make a bit of contact, brushing the skin of his fingers.

—What does it taste you like? —he asks you. You try your best not to have dirty thoughts.

—Feet? God, this is awful —you answer while trying to chew the fucker.

Toto almost chokes on his water. Who calls feet a signature Michelin-star dish?

—I'm so hating this! I can't with pretentious places, to be honest. Uptight people are the worst!

—You tell me I live surrounded by those, but you will be fine. Why did you mention the uptight people?

—Send tips. Because there is no way an average person could have come up with this idea and this type of food! What are these flavors, honestly?!

—You are hilarious.

—Aw, thanks. What am I to you, a clown? Well, every circus needs one... I'm glad to help! Why do you keep laughing, stop!

—You are so right; F1 can be a circus! —Toto admits.

—So, what's your job at the F1 circus? No, seriously, don't laugh. TOTO STOP. Do you juggle or what? —You two keep reaching closer over and under the small table, knees now touching.

—Highly accurate! Or I could be that one guy on the tightrope! —He waves his arms.

—So meta. Listen, for us girls being the ones stereotypically called "catfight-ty," you guys...

—You have no idea! And it is just starting...

—Does the drama get too good? You are getting me excited! Don't play with my heart, Torger.

—I won't —Somehow, it sounds more profound and meaningful. Silence.

—Can we go back to the food, please? We are getting distracted from its delicious flavors —you say amidst giggles. —What? Don't you believe me? This dish is so good, "Latifi good".

Chuckles. Then you notice Toto left his right hand on top of yours this whole time.

With your free one, you pick up another portion. —Oh, you are going to love this one. Smells, uhm, so good. Wait for my soft hands to come closer —you tease Toto.

He loses it. People around you start judging you two; you are being "noisy."

—Why suddenly I don't want to open my mouth? I'm not helping you get there anymore. Find your way; if you miss it, then I'm so sorry.

—Oh, don't you worry, "Tots". I can always ask for more of these.

—Oh god, no.

The dining experience ended on the sixth small bite, thank Jesus. You two never walked out of a restaurant that fast, and none of you felt like staying to experience the drinks part, judging by the food.

But were in desperate need of refreshers. The night was now fully set, and the air was fresh. You two walk almost hand in hand on the sidewalk under the clear skies, choosing to explore the city, looking in the surroundings for a pub. You were lured by a very busy one - with live music - three drunk girls burst out of the door in a great mood, and it looked packed; then it must be good!

It was. —Do I ask to pour you a pint, too? Or are you on a diet or something? —Toto offers you on his way to get drinks. A great cover of "Your Love by The Outfield" played in the background. The singer had great vocals, and the guitarist was so talented.

—On a diet? God, no. I'm not that fit! Who gives that excuse? Who's that picky?

—There are people —Toto answers, a bit sad. You wonder if Sussie behaved like that. Of course, you don't dig.

While he goes on his mission, you find the last free table for yourselves. The place was what you pictured when someone said "pub". A classic, extensive wooden bar, tap beer, and tons of bottles on display. Small round tables, bar stools, and many empty frames hanging on the wooden panel walls mixed with art deco posters. It's nothing fancy but eclectic and cool.

As time passed, you two got drunk and the beers, too. You talked and talked and talked about everything. At least what you two wanted to share, obvious subjects were avoided. Toto didn't mention Sussie the whole time, and you chose not to reveal much about your "situation." The two of you formed a bond and had such chemistry none could explain. You were feeling so comfy with each other. He looked so happy and having a blast, and you were, too.

Then, the drinking contest started, and you sent your best knight to battle. You ended up sitting cross-legged on top of the bar with your short dress going up with your every move, surrounded by a group of people watching the spectacle - as well as the other couples of contestants - with Toto on his feet right next to you, resting one of his hands on your thighs. At the same time, you poured the beers directly into his mouth. The first one to finish a row of four pints with no pauses and successfully do "the loaded twirl" - four fast spins - then walk to ring the bell at the end of the counter - without falling - could leave not paying a penny, and win a cool metal medal too.

Toto sounded the bell first. And the place went fucking nuts.

By the end of your night out, you two couldn't even walk straight as you were being playful on the sidewalk on your way to meet your driver. At some point, you lost a heel while dancing, you knew how to move and rhythm was natural to you. Toto carried you around until a good soul gifted you his flip-flops; the poor unknown hero was so into you. Fantastic pubs and guys on flip-flops, thank you, Australia.

While rocking the stranger's flip-flops with your Saint Laurent mini dress, you were singing and throwing some moves on the street at the sound of "Notorious by Duran Duran" - it was the last song you heard the band played before leaving and got stuck in your head - it was around 4 a.m. by then.

Toto had his medal wrapped around his head, looking all stupid and hot. There is no sight of his suit jacket. He must have lost it when you took him to the bathroom - of course, you waited for him outside. He was too drunk to get there alone - or when you two started dancing, burning some of the alcohol in your systems.

There is something about him that makes you feel so many things, and you don't want the night to end. And you wanted to spend more time with him, listening to his voice, hearing his laugh, looking at his eyes, having his body near yours. You find him so attractive.

—I don't remember the last time I had this much fun; it must have been ages ago! —he says, way too loud and drunk.

—Me too! We should do this again! Are you sure it's here? —you reply, looking around. No cars in sight.

—Yes! I'm not that drunk. Here is where the pin marks —he says, looking too closely into his phone. His nose almost touched the screen, looking at the map.

—Let me see.

—Nein —He raises his phone, extending his arm, placing it out of your reach. You jump to grab it, failing miserably. You ended up bumping him instead. Balance isn't a thing for any of you at the moment. And you both get closer. At some point in the night, you two started to behave like magnets, unable to keep away from each other, all handsy. Toto places a hand on your lower back to steady you.

You aren't sure if the sensation you are feeling is the alcohol in your system or the butterflies in your stomach.

—You are so carefree. Zero pretentious. So fun. So captivating, so... —Toto says in such a dangerous voice, staring at your lips with his fingers, placing your hair behind your ear.

You two get closer.

—So..? —You beg him to continue, staring at his lips too. You take the lead and start closing the distance between you.

It's been a while since either of you had sex in your lives.

Or love.

He looks at you with desire and affection but without moving an inch. Then Toto decides to take a step back.

That distance feels like miles, and the car arrives. Ending an almost perfect night.

You feel ashamed since you overstepped and carried yourself away. None of you mentioned what just happened on the ride back to the hotel.

Spending time with you starts to feel like a necessity to him now.

Toto is standing there, left shoulder leaning against the bar wall near where the band is playing, sipping his beer, watching you dance with some strangers, glowing and smiling, and having fun among those girls while he admires your curves and body movements. You have the magic to make him forget about the rest of the world, its people, and its problems. Going out with you tonight felt like healing, like self-care.

After days of being heartbroken, Toto called things off with Sussie, which was not an easy choice. She was the love of his life, or so he thought, and after spending a significant portion of your life with someone, saying goodbye to that person is never easy.

Even if tonight was great and felt like a lucid dream, he couldn't escape reality forever. This Cinderella story had an end.

Of course, he notices the way you look at him. The attention you pay to his every word, your excitement every time you make him smile, or how you lean closer to his touch whenever the two of you make accidental - or not - contact.

But he wasn't ready for you. Of course, he would love to make a move and enjoy the whole of you, explore your every corner, trace your hips with his hands, and feel your body beneath his, making you release sounds he would love to hear. He wanted to fuck you badly, but you weren't just for a one-night stand.

You deserved someone who could fully admire you. That worshiped you. And Toto wasn't able to be that guy at the moment. He felt wounded and needed time for himself.

So, when you had the courage he lacked to make the move, knowing that if he accepted that kiss, you would wake up tangled in his sheets, he stepped back.

Seeing your surprised, embarrassed, and hurt reaction spiraled him into coming days of somber mood and turned into a quiet ride back to the hotel.

Once you reach your destination, the driver opens the car door for you, and you step out of it, praying your balance has returned. After that fiasco ending of the night, all the alcohol in your system seems to have evaporated thanks to that emotional gut punch Toto gave. You glimpse Toto catching your step, walking now as normal as you.

You two may be walking seemly normal now but your looks scream drunks, loud and clear! - messy hair and clothes, not to mention your flip flops, a thing that made you smile as you remembered the now distant memory - as you passed by a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the way to the elevators.

The bellboy pushes the buttons to open the elevator doors for you.

—On which floor is your room? —he asks.

—Oh, no, we aren't...

—Eleven —you answer a little deadpan, interrupting Toto.

—Fourteen —he mumbles.

As you two go up, you start saying goodbye, also wanting to cut the tension a bit. —It was a fun night, "Tots"! My liver may disagree, but we'll see —you smile.

—Yeah, yeah, it was, except for that horrid food —he replies.

—Let's not, let's bury that part.

He nods with a small smile. The door opens on your floor. You smile at him one last time and head out.

Toto wants to say, "Wait!" or follow you down that corridor, inviting himself to your room and bed, but instead, he remains just standing there, and the elevator goes up.

You take your time to walk down the corridor, hoping there is still a chance, till you hear the sound of the elevator's doors closing and following it, total silence, no footsteps, no movement. So you let out a sigh and get inside your room.

You are left facing a feeling of emptiness and solitude as you walk across the empty and dark suite with your surviving heel in hand, and then you toss it across the room on the carpet. You enter the shower and start washing your make-up and body off, letting your mind wander to the idea that the two of you could be there right now.

So, a bit defeated by not having Toto's naked and wet body before you, you send yourself to bed, struggling to fall asleep and shut down your brain; after a while, you feel yourself drifting away in the arms of Morfeo - and sadly not Toto's.

—He thinks I'm captivating and have soft hands —you say while giggling like a teenager, adding sugar to your Chai at the end of the counter. Already in a better mood, trying to look at the bright side of things.

—Soft hands??? —Sam replies, making a silly face and grabbing a napkin.

You two meet on your way to get Starbucks, located two buildings away from the hotel. You are still hungover and need fuel before stepping into the paddock.

—You know, never mind. I don't want to know —Sam adds, biting her bagel.

—Oh, wait. No. Nothing like that happened —you wave your hands in concern.

—Calm down; you know he and Sussie are in the middle of a time-off. Nothing wrong if it had happened. He has been in such awful moods lately that I think he needs it to happen. This time, their breakup seems real.

—Really!?

—Can you at least don't sound that excited? Oh god, you are smiling. I hate love —Sam sips her black coffee, rolling her eyes at you.

—Leave me live my fantasy, alright? —praying sign, you joke.

—Now you will be all weird around him, won't you?

—Nooo, well, maybe a little. What? Like you don't ship us.

—Puff —Sam lets out.

—Oh, you fed me way too many details about him for years and set us up last night just because, huh?

—Okay. Fair. I sold you the idea. Am I clever, or what? Listen, I care about you two a lot, and frankly, I think you are great for each other.

—Ooh, so Sam Dobrev has a heart.

—Shut up! Please don't make me regret it —she replies, all done with life.

—Hi, big guy —Sam pops her head inside Toto's office, simultaneously knocking on the open door.

—You owe me one —Toto answers deadpan. Concentrated, looking straight at his iPad, not bothering to look at her.

—Why?

—That restaurant you made me go to was horrible.

—Well, I didn't pick the place, so no whines to me, but at least the company was fantastic, right?

—Umhju —Toto mutters, still looking at the screen. Then silence.

Sam interprets that answer as I'm not telling you anything else.

—Since you are here trying to gossip. Aren't you busy? If you have free time, you could help me with several things.

—Jeez, that mood. I'm not here to gossip. Here, sign this. Niki needs it.

Toto reads the paper Sam just gave him and picks up his phone. —I need to make a call. Would you mind closing the door on your way out? Thank you.

—Okay —Sam answers slowly and exaggerates the "O" while doing what was asked. Even she knows messing with a somber Toto wasn't a good idea.

Unfortunately for you, no gossip or insights of your night out were obtained from Toto.

It was a Grand Prix victory for Lewis. And a third place for Mick, but since it was his first podium, you guys celebrated as if he had just won the race. Sadly, Millie got pulled out of the track for a technical issue with the car.

You were hoping to chitchat with Toto at the podium ceremony, make him laugh a little, and watch his beautiful smile. Well, you hoped that the entire day, actually. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Until you spotted him in the distance, there was no casual way to start a conversation with him that way, and you didn't want to be perceived as pushy or desperate going straight to him. So you let the idea die. There was no rush.

If something was meant to be, it will happen without forcing things.

Right?

Azerbaijan

On the paddock in Baku, Toto chose to behave the opposite of that night in Melbourne. Serious, professional, and borderline unfriendly - but still polite.

That caught you off guard, and it was so confusing. After spending that great time together, you thought you two were on your path to becoming friends or more if luck was on your side. You didn't get the sudden change, and it was a bit hurtful when you went to say hi to him - all warm and smiling - and he gave the cold shoulder with a blunt "Good morning" and kept on walking.

You stood there looking a bit stupid, wondering if you did something to bother him or if he was acting Austrian. Maybe Toto was feeling really uncomfortable by how you approached him at the end of that night. Damn, drunk you!

But then, a couple of hours later:

"Unknown" is typing...

—Darci told me you left your office to have lunch. But I'm here outside your hospitality and don't see you - Toto.

Your assistant gave him your number. —Hi!!! Yes, I'm here having lunch.

—Where? I'm wearing my good glasses, and I'm sure you are not that bald guy eating a salad.

—Sandro is a very nice guy. Look up, grandpa!

—The rooftop? What are you, a pigeon?

No joke in reply, just an honest: —I like the view from here. It's peaceful! Bonus points for being private. No one bothers me here or intrudes. It's my secret special place. Do you want to join?

Toto finishes climbing the ladder and goes to greet you, kissing you on the cheek. As he does so, a crazy thought crosses your mind: What if you turn your head? Is stealing a kiss considered harassment? But you don't.

You two share your homemade Yakimeshi - you love cooking even if you have a private Chef, and you are damn good at it, well, according to everyone that has eaten your food, so you ask the hotel to get you the fresh ingredients you need - while talking about the day, sharing ideas, throwing shade, and enjoying each other's presence.

—What a diva! —you reply, grabbing a portion with your chopsticks.

—I know. I expected better, but engineers... you know —Toto shrugs.

—Ye! —you agree. Sometimes, they acted, well, a little bit challenging.

Toto was acting so relaxed and casual as you expected him to be, and not what was going on in the morning. You wonder so badly why there is a change in ways, but you don't dare to ask.

"What if he has bipolar disorder?" a question that came to your mind at some desperate point during your day. Not that there was something wrong with that.

The sun is setting, and you two enjoy the view, sitting next to each other - no space in between - He places his arm around you, palm resting next to your left hand, but without making physical contact.

This becomes a routine for you two, lunching together on the rooftop of the W hospitality, away from the rest of the world, in your private little bubble. It becomes your favorite moment of the day. And Toto's, too, even if he swore he would never like routine.

Miami

—Excuse me, excuse me, how did the tire taste you like? —you tease a very solemn Lewis walking past you on the paddock while you pretend to hold an invisible mic at his face, acting like a reporter. An instant smile forms on his lips.

—Roscoe attack! —Lewis commands.

Roscoe stares at him for a second and then wanders to sniff a palm tree, not caring.

—I think your trick didn't work —you get closer to greet him with a hug.

—He is too lazy for that —he tells you while embracing you.

—You are too cute; don't listen to that man! —you say with a silly voice, addressing Roscoe, letting Lewis go, and flexing to pet the dog, rubbing around his ears, which Roscoe seems to enjoy.

It was a Qualy of hell for Mercedes. Lewis's car's back tire flew out into the air before bouncing on a safety barrier at speed, almost hitting him back. Plus, George's car ended up in the gravel after losing power.

In contrast, Williams did great. Mick was one with the car, achieving the day's fastest lap.

—Feeling better, sweetie? —you ask Lewis with honest concern, after seeing the incident unfold and how he made it out of the car really distraught.

Although you must admit that even though that whole thing wasn't funny, the memes were pure gold, so you texted Toto your pick: the one where the tire hit the space station with a photoshopped explosion, the one with Lewis's face photoshopped on a baseball player hitting a home run, but instead of the ball it was the tire and your favorite, the one with photoshopped Toto, Lewis, and George riding the tire to the sky.

—Yeah. I'm good. A positive mindset always helps, thanks.

—I think I just saw you kicking, crying, and screaming in the bathroom, Mr. Positive Mind Set —Sam joins the conversation, teasing him.

—HA HA

—So, what's the plan for tonight-A? —she asks.

—Noone human says tonight like that. Not even Michael Jackson on drugs —you tell Sam.

—We are in Miami, chica! Aren't we clubbing?! —she replies.

—Are you high?

—I will if we go out...

—You realize we are here for work, right? —Lewis asks her.

—Like we haven't done it before. What's the worst that could happen? Toto finding out? You losing the race? Toto, finding out you lost the race because you went out clubbing with us?

—Yes! —you all answer at the same time. —To all of that —you add.

—Well, not if Toto comes with us...

Lewis starts laughing like a madman. —Sam, are you suggesting convincing Toto to go clubbing with us the night before the race so he doesn't get mad if he finds out we went clubbing?

—I got lost, mate —George arrives, earing that last part, trying to figure out what the hell.

—Well, I'll not be convincing him. Y/N is.

—ME?!

—If you really love me, you will —Sam pushes you toward the Mercedes' motorhome.

Gaslighting a bit much?

How am I supposed to do this? I'm going to sound so unprofessional. Although, technically, you two went out pub-ing?? and got drunk the night before the race in Australia. Okay, that made-up word sounds terrible; let's never use it again, so there may be a slight chance to relive that.

At least you needed to practice your words before going in there since "Hi, Toto, wanna go clubbing?" wasn't an option but destiny was a bitch; you two crossed paths before you had the opportunity to rehearse. Toto was on his way back to his office; he left his badge access on his desk. He seemed surprised to see you there; you were far away from the Williams' grounds. So you are forced to improvise.

—Are you looking for Sam?

—No, not really, not this time.

—Oh. Niki?

—Nope.

—Lewis?

—You.

Toto was now standing right before you with his hands in his pockets, all tall and handsome. You liked him even more when he wore his reading glasses.

You start a bit shy; Toto has a powerful presence. —I heard Miami has excellent places, and because last time I made you join me for that awful dining experience, I thought maybe we could go out and have a good time but in a better establishment.

—Tonight?

He sounds slightly judgy. You go on: —I was talking with the guys, and they mentioned "Floyd." It sounds great...

—The guys?

—Sam and Lewis, and George...

—Ooh, they sent you? Sam!

Oh boy.

—The cocktails sound goo...

—I'm not taking my drivers drinking or to a nightclub before the race or allowing it. It's ridiculous —Toto interrupts you again.

You look at him, now slightly nervous and bummed out.

—None of us is going; it's not happening —Toto adds firmly.

Yeah... He was a pro at the top of his game. Of course, he cared about discipline, mindsets, and winning races and titles; what were you thinking?!

You nod apologetically. Your eyes look a bit sad, well, because... You don't need to explain why. Just start turning around to head back and tell them the news.

—Wait! We could go to "Basement", which has a bowling alley and a DJ. But no drinking! Not even a drop for anyone; we must return to the hotel at a reasonable hour. Do you like that? That makes you happy?

—Sounds perfect to me —your smile is big and bright. Did Toto change his mind to please me?

To make things even, you end up bringing Millie and Mick. You wanted to make clear you weren't playing unfair tactics with your opponents. You earnestly desired to spend a good time with the people you began to care about.

The place was all for yourselves. It was a club slash bowling alley with colorful neon lights reflecting on the lanes, varying intensities and colors to the DJ's beats. It was a dope place.

Lewis invites Seb. They two took bowling seriously and had a years-long competition. They show you a list of their scores on Lewis's iPhone going back to the dark ages.

Bono also shows up, and Carlos and Lando, too, God knows how.

Lando starts stretching right in front of you, warming up, and making eye contact with you while doing his poses in a bit too sexual and exaggerated way. Samanta and you start laughing at him for acting all idiot. You two sit on the bowling benches while drinking Coke and eating popcorn.

—Every group needs a slut —you tell Lando.

—I don't think you are impressing her, man —Carlos joins, watching the spectacle, on his feet.

—It reminds me of when little children warm up before jumping into the pool —you kill Lando with your words.

—You have never seen legs like this —he tells you, overconfident. All of you laugh. —But, I will fight for your heart, malady. Is there another knight brave enough to face me in a bowling fight to the death?

—But what's the prize?! —Seb screams across all lanes.

—A NIGHT with the princess —Lando claims.

—Keep dreaming, sweetie —you reply.

—A KISS from the princess —he backtracks.

—Fine! Everyone, write your names here! —Sam takes a Post-it and a pen out of her purse - an assistant's habit - and passes them around.

—WHAT?! What are you doing?

Sam starts folding the papers and mixing them up. —The council calls Sir Hamilton to the pit!! Please choose your horse and weapon for the fight (lane and bowling ball) —Sam reads Lewis's name from the paper she picks up, and then she selects another one. —Warrior Dobrev to the fight! —cheers are heard, and Mick and Carlos pat Millie on the arm and back; Vettel massages her shoulders when she stands by her approach area. —Knight Wolff to the pit! And last but not least, Warrior Bonnington, too! —there were only five lanes. —You all brave souls are to fight buffoon Norris for a kiss of the Lady. Lord Vettel and I will oversee the combat.

—Hey! —Lando complains, pouting. Then, George starts motivating him, and they start making stupid grunts and jumps before the bowling round begins.

—The battle commences now! —Sam calls.

—You really need to stop watching House of the Dragon —you tell her.

—It's official: Bono is the worst player I have seen —Vettel interrupts, watching Bono be the first to get disqualified. —Is it okay if I leave you a second? If I don't go and bother Lewis every time to time, I get anxious —Sebastian sweetly tells you.

—Go, honey —You pat his hand and let him go. You two were watching the competition unfold together.

Lando, Lewis, and Toto were really good at it, but Millie was in a league of her own.

—How can someone so tiny have such a steady grip? —Lewis tells her she was in the lane next to his.

—Lew, I gladly would share with you all my secrets if I wasn't determined to win this —Millie replies.

—So you really want to kiss her? —he is curious, and a little smile forms on his lips.

—Look at Y/N, I wouldn't mind, but I don't want to. I think all five of us here hate losing... or love winning. Well, except for Lando, I believe he truly wants to kiss her.

"Not just him," Lewis thinks, looking in Toto's direction. After years of being teammates, he could read him like a book. It isn't just Sussie who has him shifting moods. Since you appeared, Toto began to act all weird. When Lewis noticed the looks you both exchanged, everything made sense to him.

And another fantastic strike from Lando.

Millie was almost right. Lewis loves winning and hates losing, but not when friends or feelings are in the middle. A lesson Sebastian taught him. So Lewis prepares and throws the worst shot he has ever made. His bowling ball bounces, hits the gutters, and invades the next lane, instantly disqualifying him.

Hisses and laughs fill the room. Lewis turns around, shrugs, smiles, and goes to take a seat. A minute later, he feels a thumb rubs his neck, caressing it. —Sir Hamilton, my good Sir, you sure are an honorable and respectable fellow —Sebastian tells him with his best Shakespearean voice.

—Stop talking like that, please.

—It doesn't please you how this low-grade peasant talks, good Sir?

The face Lewis gives him is priceless. Vettel laughs, and Lewis slides closer to him on the bench.

A loud "AAARGGH" comes from Lando as he dramatically throws himself to the floor. Wooff, what an awful shot.

—Luck next time, Lando! —Sam teases him as Carlos and George pass by, carrying him to the benches, one grabbing him by the legs and the other by the arms. Out of the competition, he was.

Now, it was a Dobrev vs. Wolff clash.

—Make our house name proud, niece! —Sam yells at her.

—You are having too much fun, aren't you? —you tell her.

—Sorry —Sam covers her face with her hands, monkey emoji-like. —Your knight made it to the final. Good for you, girl, but Millie is ruthless, so...

—I know! I can't watch any more. I'm too nervous! I feel like I will puke if Toto wins or if he loses.

—...she misses.

—WHAT?!

Okay, okay, this wasn't happening. Oh God. Sam turns to you and gives you a smile The Grinch will envy.

—Knight Wolff wins the battle! And takes the princess! —Sam announces. You shoot her a dead glare. —...'s kiss

Cheers are heard. Then everyone gets on their feet and starts chatting and bowling. Laughs and mocktails fill the room.

You pass Lando, still lying on the bench, on your way to get a drink. Now you need tequila in your system. —Oh, I'm so wounded! Only a kiss on the lips would heal me —he tries, offering his arms to you. The kid has the material to be an actor.

—Carlos!! Lando needs you!! —you joke back in answer, smiling at him. Lando gets on his feet in less than a second. —All good, I feel better! —he tells you, chuckling.

Toto is there when you reach the bar, sipping a whiskey on the rocks. —Not a drop of alcohol, you said? —you mock him.

—And you are here to ask for a Coke, right? —he teases you.

—A Paloma, please —you ask the bartender. —You could be a professional bowling player —Please let that become a meme, you think, and an image of a Toto in a complete bowling outfit surrounded by a group of senior citizens with white hair comes to mind.

—You picture it; that's why you are smiling.

—Nooo...

He arches an eyebrow.

—Fine. I admit it! —you sit on the bar stool next to him and rest an elbow on the bar counter, smiling like an idiot and gazing at Toto until he notices it and gets on his feet.

—I haven't seen you play, let's go! —he tells you.

—Oh, if this really were the old ages and it was me who had to fight for your hand, consider yourself single for the rest of your life...

You all arrive together at the hotel and walk inside the lobby, making a lot of noise.

—Shuusshh!! Zack doesn't know I'm not in my room! —Lando whispers, looking around.

—Sure, he is hiding behind that plant, Lando. That old fart is so fucking asleep in his bed, mate! Calm down! —Vettel adds.

—Hey! You haven't kissed Toto yet —Lewis recalls and addresses you.

—Right! Give him his prize! —Mick adds.

You feel your cheeks turning red. —Are you all going to stare and make it all weird?

—YES! —everyone answers.

—You guys suck! —you complain, pretending to be annoyed at them.

—Not as much as I would like to. WHO SAID THAT?! —Millie dirty jokes, looking around.

—Millie Alexandria Dobrev! —Sam shouts, shocked. —I can't believe you...

Between giggles and two Croatians fighting in the background, you kiss Toto for the first time.

With your left hand, wrap Toto's bicep and rest your right on his chest as you reach his lips on your tiptoes. The kiss is brief, delicate, more like a brush of lips, but it is enough to make the butterflies in your stomach go wild and to still be on cloud nine when you reach your room.

Monaco

You were so excited to be officially living in Monaco. It was your first week there, and you had never lived on your own before. And since Sam also resided there, you spent lots of time together. You two were enjoying the break and touring the city around.

Miami went terrific, and that kiss still made rounds on your head.

Sam and you were walking in the area close to your new place when you turned the corner and were greeted by this scene: A furious Monegasque girl screaming at the top of her lungs in French words that did not sound nice at all and throwing objects out the window while a man on the street was trying to picking them up and reason with said girl. Some people were staring, and others were rushing to pass by.

—Is that Charles?! —Samanta asks you, stunned, pointing to the guy crouched and picking up what looked like a pair of Jordan's.

Yeah, that was Charles Leclerc. You two look at each other concerned and rush to help.

—Hi —Sam shouts among the screams in French.

—Oh, hey, Sam —Charles looks pretty embarrassed.

You quickly offer him the almost empty tote bag you were carrying and speed walk to grab an open, worn-out cardboard box from the greengrocery next door. The three of you start getting his things inside while avoiding getting hit by the last objects thrown out.

—Thank you —he says to you. —My girlfriend went mental.

All of you hear a loud bang and look up; she shuts the windows dramatically. "More like ex-girlfriend now" you think.

—Merde —you hear Charles say. —My keys and wallet are inside there, fuck!

You can't avoid feeling bad for the guy. He looks so done with life right now.

—Ahm, Charles, if you want to join us, we are grabbing lunch. We can grab some cocktails, too; I'll treat you guys. You seem in desperate need of alcohol and a chat.

—You're right, I need alcohol, thank you. I would love to.

The three of you walk your way to a restaurant Charles loves. It was pricey, but you agreed to let him pick the place since you were spoiling him and trying to lift his spirits.

—Huff, why are all the streets in Monaco inclined? —you complain after climbing the fourth hundred stairs of the day. —On the bright side, tho, I just need to live here to skip leg day at the gym.

Charles laughs. That's good!

The face the hostess makes when you three arrive and place the second-hand cardboard box with Charles's things on the fancy counter - clothes, some books, sneakers, a Funko Pop of Charles himself for some reason, and what looks like Xbox controllers, a man's most prized possession - makes it worth it almost losing your legs to get there.

—Good evening. Table for three? Right this way. Terrace, as usual, Mr. Leclerc? —she asks.

—Yes, please.

You are led to your table. It was a sea-inspired high-cuisine restaurant. The ceiling of the place had a breathtaking art installation: A whale made from bamboo wind chimes. —The waiter is on his way; here is the food and mixology carte —she offers you. It takes you a long time to read the entire selection.

—Ask for whatever you guys want; the check is on me. Don't hold back —you offer them.

—Great, then! It would be two spritzes instead of one, please! —Sam gestures with her fingers at the waiter, who is already taking your order. Sam seems so happy and excited; for someone who grew up that rich, she loves getting stuff for free.

—I would like a Tequila and Tonic with two tequila shots, please —you finally choose.

—A margarita and two shots of tequila for me. To start —Charles orders.

The drinks arrive quickly. At the same time, you hear everything about Charles' toxic relationship, giving him the space to spit it all out; as more alcohol makes it to the table, the more details you get.

After a good couple of hours of free therapy, high cuisine, drinks, relationship advice, and tragic love stories, it got dark.

—Well, it was a damn good chat! I'm glad we were able to help you, my friend. But we better go —Sam says to Charles. —I'm walking you back to your place —she addresses you. —I have to wake up early tomorrow. Toto wants me to join the Mercedes' Zoom call at 7 a.m., and I don't want to see his annoying, angry face at me.

The thought of an angry Toto makes you bite hard the tiny chocolate cake you are eating as dessert.

—Oh, no worries! It's just all the way down the street; I will get there without problems —you say while savoring the remains of your cake.

—Are you sure? —She inquires. You forgot how protective of you Samanta was, even if she was younger than you.

—Yeah, go, go. It's never a good idea to make an Austrian guy angry —You joke.

Charles choked on his drink, laughing. —Sweet Lord.

Sam giggles, hugs you two goodbye and waits for her Uber.

—It's late, I'll walk you. There are plenty of good hotels near your building and the marina; since I'm not going home, I need to book a room —Charles mentions.

—If you don't mind, you can crash at my place; there's not much furniture yet, but you are welcome to stay —you tell Charles. He seems relieved.

Charles sees what you meant with "not much" - just a small table with no chairs, one kitchen counter stool, a mattress in the bedroom, another on the living room floor, and some boxes, making the place look way bigger - as you two enter your apartment.

—I just got the keys —you excuse yourself.

—Oh wow, this view reminds me of my grandparents' apartment view from growing up —He reaches the balcony fast. —Oh, look, you can see the old side of Monaco from here! Good memories! —He ignores your comment, not caring much about the furniture or decor.

He seems in a better mood than before.

—Well, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well! —you say, on your way to your bedroom.

—Thank you, good night!

You hear noises outside your bedroom's open doors a few minutes later. Charles moves his mattress nearer the plug on the wall and connects the charger you lent him to his phone. With that change in the arrangement, you are both placed facing each other in different rooms and with distance in between.

Since none of you seemed able to fall asleep that night, you better keep chatting, each of you resting your back against the wall, relaxing, and him crossing his arms behind his head.

—So you are besties with Sam?

—Yes, she was one of the first people I met when I arrived in Belgium —you answer and look out of your bedroom's massive floor-to-ceiling window to the beautiful sea and the tiny-looking lights of Monaco. He stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

—So, how was growing up here? —You ask him and were sincerely curious but also want to switch the subject of conversation from you to him.

He tells many anecdotes of his childhood and buzz about some of the high society Monegasque families. He seems to enjoy gossip, and you are here for it.

Until you feel your eyes shutting down and fall asleep with the sound of his voice.

Two weeks later, Charles was still staying at your place; there was no furniture yet, however. By the third week, you arrive home, and all of Charles' things are filling the space. He moved "his bed" to one of the guest bedrooms and packed the living room with boxes. His piano starts serving you two at your dining "table." You always ate there, sitting, standing, taking turns: breakfast, Charles, lunch, you, etc.

He is just one box away from officially becoming your roommate. Of course, you don't mind. After many years of feeling alone, you desperately needed a friend and its company.

Charles' wireless speaker is the most significant addition to the apartment; it was never turned off, both of you being obsessive music maniacs, constantly introducing new music and artists to each other.

It is your turn to pick a song, and you want to lift the spirits while unpacking boxes and arranging things, so you turn the volume all up and hit play. Bad Bunny's "Yo perreo sola" started blasting.

You start singing and dancing to the beat, shaking it, and then Charles joins you in the chorus, singing the lyrics perfectly and throwing some great dance moves. You two start twerking.

—You know this song? Wait, you speak Spanish?! —you ask loudly, almost screaming. The music is so loud.

—My mom is Colombian. Didn't I mention that? My dad is the Monegasque one. I know my reggaeton and merengues by heart —he screams back. —I know all the good clubs in the city with this type of music, we should go and dance our asses off.

—Oh, for sure we are!

Another level of friendship is unlocked.

The three of you are inseparable. It is the weekend, and Charles took you and Sam on his boat sailing to an excellent spot to take a swim. Coronas, good music, sun, and fresh water fill your day.

You came up with a competition to see who jumped out of the boat the funniest way because you three were dumb. Charles wins by jumping and agitating his arms and legs like an old cartoon falling or very Gaga at the Super Bowl. Your stomach hurts from laughing, and your face from smiling.

After that, you all lay flat on your stomachs like iguanas under the sun, getting tan atop the boat; you don't remember a day nearby when you felt so happy. You felt at home with those two by your side.

It was around 4 a.m. and pitch black when Charles was suddenly awakened by sorrowful sounds coming from your bedroom.

He rushes and quickly opens the door, not caring to knock. He finds you crying, curled in your bed; you look like a total mess with red eyes, messy hair, and softly shaking, and Charles reacts like a headless chicken, pacing frantically around the room before getting to his senses and starting supporting a very troubled you.

—I got an idea that could help you feel better! —he tells you.

—Yeah?

—You trust me?

You nod.

—Let's go! —he offers you his hand and leads you out.

You take the lift to the basement parking lot, where Charles' Ferrari is all poorly and crocked parked outside lines of your apartment's parking spaces - that man was a great driver but terrible at parking - next to it is his powerful Ducati Panigale black motorbike is waiting for you.

Soon, you two are on his bike, crossing the streets of Monaco at full speed. Getting further away from the city and into the road. You tightly wrap your arms around him as he tells you you are entering the highway, and he begins to speed, pushing the bike's engine.

You could feel the fresh nightly ocean breeze hitting your body and entering your pores, every time more violently as you moved and Charles kept speeding up. You could see the full moon reflecting on the ocean waters. It was a clear night, with no stars in sight.

You love the rush and adrenaline of this speed ride. Charles speeds even more, and you hear the violent roar of the motor, the bike reaching its maximum. Then, in that brief moment, you get why all drivers are passionate about F1. Now you get it. Your sad tears become happy ones. You have never experienced something like this before, and it makes you feel so alive. The air feels so cold and harsh at the speed you are going that you almost feel it cutting your skin. It is a sensational feeling.

Charles then starts to slow down till he parks the bike and turns the engine off, helping you get on your feet, and you two lay on the grass after arriving at the destination.

—What a view! —you let out. The two of you are far away from the city, and you can see Monaco at the distance from the cliff you are on top of.

—This is my secret spot. I have been coming here since I was young when I felt I needed to clear my mind or wanted to escape everything. This view humbles you and calms you down at the same time —Charles confesses.

—Thanks for sharing it with me —you say to him, extremely grateful.

—It's the least I can do.

You can hear the waves hitting the cliff rock below you, and you admire the infinite ocean in front of you. The two of you sat there for a long time.

—Whenever you feel ready to talk about it. To open up about your past, who you are, or why you cried tonight, I will be here to listen —Charles offers you, breaking the comfortable silence. He is a kind and sweet person, a good person. And you aren't used to that.

He places his hand on top of yours just briefly, and you feel so happy to have a friend, to have him, no love feelings, no desire in between, just genuine friendship and honest support.

He deserves the truth, and you want to let him know, but you are afraid of the repercussions. You don't want to get judged or, worse, to lose him.

Charles has been paying attention to you these past weeks and has noticed how you avoid or change subjects whenever your past or private life gets mentioned.

Every day that passes, he gets to know you more. It is just a matter of time before the truth comes out.

To be continued... - Masterlist | Next Chapter

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girl-next-door-writes · 1 year

Text

My Girl

Characters: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Just some fluff about Bucky slowly realising why he feels so happy lately.

Word Count: 1228 words

Prompt: My Girl by the Temptations.

A/N: This is another one for the amazingly wonderful @caplanbuckybarnes and the fabulous #cappys decades challenge that I hoarded a whole load of prompts from because they were all so darn good.

Sam was the first to notice. Of course he was, the observant bastard was always monitoring his friend, making sure he was doing okay. What he hadn’t expected to see was the softness in Bucky’s expression as he watched you stir your drink. There was a hint of a smile on his lips and tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes; eyes which were usually quite icy now thawing the longer you were in his line of sight. At first, Sam wanted to use this to his advantage, tease his friend and maybe push him towards being a little bolder, but then he saw how quickly Bucky looked away from you when you glanced in their direction. No, now was not the time for brotherly annoyance, he would just sit back and watch things progress.

Sitting by the window, Bucky watched the flurries of snow dance in the air before joining the drifts forming on the ground. Despite the warm drink in his hands, and the several layers of clothing he was wearing, he shivered at the chill. It was a little ironic that the former Winter Soldier was not a fan of the cold that came with his seasonal namesake. A soft scowl rested on his face, as if he could scare away the chill in the air if he just glared enough.

“Hey.” Your sweet voice caused his frown to melt and he turned to greet you. Just seeing your face seemed to make his day brighter and he felt suddenly very warm. Certainly warm enough that when he noticed you shiver, he pulled his hoodie over his head and offered it to you. The warmth within him only grew as he watched you slip into it, seeing you wear his clothes was something he could definitely get used to.

“Thanks.” You murmured from the warm depths of the hoodie that surrounded you with the smell of Bucky Barnes.

“No problem, doll.” He gave you a lazy smile, which only grew when you snuggled into his side. Nervously, he stretched out his arm and carefully rested it around your shoulders. Placing his cheek against the top of your head, he allowed himself this one moment of total peace, let himself imagine this was how his life turned out; sitting watching the snow fall while snuggled up to the most beautiful girl he’d ever met.

Zemo was flirting with you, again, and that irked Bucky. No, that wasn’t entirely what was getting to him, though it did play a big part. Zemo was flirting with you, and you were amused by it. He didn’t think you were really interested in the newest addition to your merry band, but there was something about how easy the banter between the two of you was that unsettled him.

Hearing your laughter ring out caused him to huff and fold his arms over his chest, his back resolutely to the two of you as he glared at the coffee table. He knew he was being ridiculous, you weren’t betraying him by being nice to that asshole, but knowing someone else was responsible for your smile was like a thousand papercuts to his lungs.

“What’s up, grumpy cat?” You asked, dropping onto the sofa beside him and automatically leaning into his side.

“Nothing.” He grumbled, even though he could feel his bad mood dissipating at your touch. Bucky hated how easily you could affect him and his mood, and you had no clue.

“You wanna tell that pretty face of yours that then? Seriously, you look like you’re about to kick a hole in that coffee table.” You smiled, looking up at him from where your head rested on his shoulder.

“Well, maybe me and that coffee table have beef.” He smirked, looking down at you, and suddenly all his worries and insecurities disappeared. Your cheek was smushed against him and there was such a soft look in your eyes as you tried to cheer up your friend.

“I see. You two go way back? Well, if you’ve got beef with the coffee table, then I guess I do too.” You sighed dramatically before resting your feet heavily on said table.

“So, you’re gonna hate a piece of furniture just because I do?”

“That’s how this works. This coffee table has insulted you in some way so now it has to deal with me. I mean, you just said you hated it! That’s some pretty big feelings there.”

“Yeah. Pretty big feelings.” He hummed, his gaze returning to the table where his feet now rested beside yours.

Bucky hated this place. The music was too loud, the lights ranged from too bright to none existent, too many people, too much stimulation for the senses. He hunched over the bar, both hands gripping the beer bottle, a scowl on his face.

“Hey, where’s your girl?” Zemo asked with a knowing smile, leaning between Bucky and Sam, resting his arms companionably around them both.

“She’s not mine.” Bucky growled.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Zemo grinned, reached for a drink from the bar and sauntered off.

“He is such a-“

“Yeah, he is, but he might just be right about this one.” Sam frowned, watching Zemo head towards the dance floor.

“What do you mean?” Bucky looked at his friend guardedly. Had he really been that obvious? If Zemo knew, and Sam knew, did that mean you knew too?

“Come on man, you telling me that you still don’t get it after all this time? I’ve seen how you look at her, how you are around her. You really gonna stand there and tell me the world doesn’t go a little fuzzy round the edges when she smiles at you?”

“Tha- I’m- I-“ Bucky spluttered, trying to find the words to defend himself without Sam catching him in an outright lie.

“You are so whipped.” Sam chuckled, “Not that you’re the only one.”

“Zemo definitely has a thing for her.” Bucky nodded, no longer denying his own feelings.

“Wasn’t talking about him! Seriously, you’ve not seen the way she is when Sharon’s around? When Sharon flirts with you, she gets the same look you do when Zemo flirts with her. You’re both idiots.”

“Who are idiots?” Your voice had both men turning in your direction, wondering just how much of their conversation you might have overheard.

“Anyone who wants to hit the dancefloor.” Sam smirked, knowing you would take that as a personal challenge.

“Oh, well, in that case, come on Buck. Me, you, dancing. It’s happening.” You held out your hand to him, and despite not wanting to dance in the slightest, he took it and allowed you to lead the way. Turning to look at Sam over his shoulder, he saw his friend giving him two thumbs up and he rolled his eyes.

The beat thrummed through the floor and as the two of you swayed to the music Bucky did indeed feel the edges of the world growing fuzzy. Even more so when you slipped your arms around him and invaded his personal space like you had every right to be there. Brushing your hair from your face, Bucky was vaguely aware of the goofy grin on his own. You were ‘his girl’. Now all he had to do was tell you that, and hope you felt the same way.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #cappys decade challenge #gndw fic

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overtrred28 · 6 months

Text

Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part four]

Words; 3.2k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; swearing, mentions of alcohol

A/N; took me a while to do this one so sorry its a bit late. hopefully you enjoy this, I really like this one. again, please give it some love and hope you like it. also this might have a love interest at some point but i haven't figured it out yet. x

masterlist

The team had now travelled down to Canberra for their second and final match against New Zealand again. Throughout the day they had taken their match day walk, eaten their meals together and prepared for the game, feeling somewhat confident after their last win over the opposing team.

Astrid was still on a buzz from the last game and the love she had been showered in from her teammates, coaches, parents and especially the fans. Making her debut and scoring a goal in the same game on home soil was something really special and Astrid never thought that she would be doing it so young. She was still only 17 and had accomplished so much.

She was in a really good mood and the team could tell. She usually had a fun, bubbly personality, constantly making jokes and pulling lighthearted pranks but today she just had an extra aura about her that instantly lightened the mood of everyone on the team. And they knew why. Not only had she been promised some minutes on the pitch this game, but tomorrow was her 18th birthday. Finally, the baby of the team was becoming an adult; legally at least. And she got to celebrate with her new family; her own unable to until she planned to go home for a little while, now that club season was over and the next camp wasn’t until late June.

The rest of the day was spent in focus mode, making sure everyone was warm and ready for what could be another tough game.

The Matildas were off to a great start, taking possession of the ball and a good few attempts at scoring within the first 14 minutes before a corner from Steph and header from Sam secured their lead on the game. Only two minutes later and a great shot from the edge of the penalty box by Hayley, the ball just skimming past the goalie, had given them that extra leg up on New Zealand.

A shot from Sam had brought them up to 3-0 before New Zealand secured their first goal in the extra time before the whistle blew for halftime and the substitutes got themselves up to warm up in the break.

Astrid, Charli and Kyra found themselves chatting about Astrid’s upcoming birthday while practising passes and shots at the goal.

“Guys it’s not that big of a deal.” Astrid spoke, taking a shot at the net with her right foot, surpassing Teagan’s attempt to block it, sending it right in the back, a small smile at Teagan before turning to the girls with confused expressions on their faces.

“Not a big deal?” Charli used air quotes, stopping her small passes with Kyra. “First of all it’s your first birthday with the team,” She began counting her fingers as she walked closer to Astrid. “It’s tomorrow,” She counted a second finger. “AND it’s your 18th. What is wrong with you?” Charli was clearly more passionate about this than Astrid, gripping the younger girl’s shoulder, trying to look stern but failing, letting out that signature smile.

“I’m with Charli.” Kyra had stepped forward to the pair. Astrid bit her top lip, staying silent, contemplating Charli’s reason.

“Ugh fine. I guess we could do something,” Astrid finally gave in. “But!” She lifted a finger, Charli and Kyra grinning slightly. “Nothing crazy okay, everyone is about to go back to clubs so they probably want to relax.” Astrid spoke, grunting softly as they engulfed her in a hug after sharing a sneaky smirk with one another.

The second half of the game had finally started, and even with a few misses at a shot, the Matildas were still doing well. Substitutions had been made for both sides, all the Aus subs continuing to keep warm and moving on the sidelines. It was at the 70th minute that Alanna went down from a head collision, resulting in a broken nose and having to leave the pitch. That led to Charli being subbed on a few minutes later as a defender, happiness from Astrid growing for Charli and worry growing for Alanna as she was taken to the changeroom.

Again with only 15 minutes until full time, Astrid got to take her place on the pitch, subbing for Caitlin in the left forward position, the coaches hoping her fresh legs might help gain them another goal before the end of the game. And they were right.

The ball was shot far from Lydia, sending it to the midfield where Sam had collected it, heading for the goal but ran out of space, shooting it over to Astrid who shot it through the goalie’s still legs as she expected a higher shot, and slotted it right in the back of the net. The crowd roared, Astrid ran directly to the midfield where most of the team watched the shot, immediately covering the young girl with their bodies, screaming and yelling at her goal that brought them to 4-1.

The huddle of players parted, Charli making sure to press a kiss to Astrid’s forehead before they both ran off to their positions again with wide smiles. The final whistle blew and Australia had won against New Zealand again, Astrid fighting the urge to run and celebrate with her friends, instead calmly shaking hands with the opposition and sharing clap hugs with her teammates.

The team all get to their huddle after a few minutes, happiness running high through them about the successful win, waiting for Tony to begin his speech.

“You’ve been phenomenal in terms of focus and what you can control. Two good games, two wins. This is the closure of the camp now, so that you can enjoy the time with your families tonight, happy birthday to Astrid for tomorrow. Safe travels. Good luck in your club, okay? Looking forward to see you next camp. Good job, everyone.” He wrapped and everyone disconnected to start clapping.

Family and friends were invited down onto the pitch, Harper being snatched up by Mini the second she saw her and Astrid slowly moving to approach the mother and daughter.

“Hi Harper.” Astrid waved at the baby in Mini’s arms.

“Say hi.” Katrina picked up one of Harper’s arms, waving at the player as a smile grew on the baby’s face. “Good job again today Astrid, nice shot.” Mini looked up at the teen.

“Thanks Mini. Welcome back officially.” Astrid met the older woman's eyes and smiled. They both turned in the direction of both teams gathering on the pitch around Aivi, all of them moving closer to the huddle, Astrid going to stand with Kyra and Charli like always.

Aivi was shaving her head today in honour of her brother and donating it in a bid to raise $30,000 for brain tumour research. Everyone cheered on as they watched the brave woman, all running over when it was done, patting and rubbing her bare head as tears sprung in everyone's eyes.

The next morning Astrid had awoken in her and Charli’s hotel room to most of the team, balloons filling the air, and all the girls screaming happy birthday as soon as her eyes had opened. Her heart pounded against her chest at the fright of seeing at least 20 more people in her room at 9am, screaming in her face.

After letting out a quiet ‘fuck’, Astrid’s next reaction was to crawl back under the sheets feeling surprised, shocked and extremely loved in that very moment that the first thing she thought to do was to hide from it. The room filled with laughter and cheers, watching as Kyra and Charli pulled back the sheets and wrapped their arms around Astrid who was about to cry.

“Aye, she’s finally an adult like the rest of us. Took long enough.” Macca yelled from in the room, everyone laughing along with her, Astrid just looked her dead in the eye.

“Does that mean you’ll stop calling me kid?” She cocked her head at the goalkeeper.

“No.” Mackenzie spoke with a dead face.

“Absolutely not.” Alanna chimed in and everyone shook their heads. Everyone gives Astrid a hug and wishes her another happy birthday before leaving, now just Kyra as the only person out of their assigned room. Kyra and Charli approached Astrid on her bed with presents in each of their hands.

“Guys, no. You seriously did not need to do all of this.” Astrid could burst into tears with the amount of love she was receiving from her friends.

“Of course we did.” Kyra came to sit beside Astrid, holding a small bag.

“You’re part of the team, our best friend and as I said yesterday,” Charli paused, trying to emphasise her next point. “It’s your fucking 18th birthday.” Charli smiled and then sat down on the other side of Astrid, placing a box in front of her.

“I love you guys so much.” Astrid pulled the girls in with an arm over each of their shoulders, turning to place a kiss on their cheeks.

“Love you too, now open them please.” Charli was bursting with excitement to watch her open the gifts.

“This one is just from us.” Kyra handing the small bag over to Astrid.

“Thank you.” Astrid smiled, taking the small bag from Kyra’s hand. A little white box was inside, pulling it out to open it. “Oh my god.” Astrid gasped at the ring that was inside the box. It was a simple silver ring, an oval plate in the middle that was engraved with a small soccer ball.

“Do you like it?” Kyra shyly spoke after watching Astrid inspect the ring closer.

“I love it.” Astrid spoke, tears forming in her eyes.

“Good, because now we all match.” Charli smiled, herself and Kyra bringing up their hands to show the same ring on their own fingers. Astrid pouted before the tears of joy ran down her face. She had never felt more loved by two friends. “Oh, star.” Charli used the nickname she had given Astrid in their first camp.

Upon deciding that she couldn’t shorten her full name, Charli began to call her ‘star’ or ‘stargirl’ because her name sounded like something to do with the stars; later the rest of the team adopted it on and off the field. Astrid really liked it and anything was better than Macca teasing her and calling her ‘Asteroid’ or ‘As-turd’; although Astrid did think it was quite funny.

The girls brought the crying girl in their arms again, laughing at her reaction and glad she enjoyed their gift.

“Okay, enough crying. Open the next one.” Kyra spoke, Astrid wiping her face and letting out a small laugh.

“This is a bit of something from everyone.” Charli moved the box closer to the birthday girl.

Astrid opened the box to reveal a bunch of little goodies; a few cards, little bottles of alcohol, some Taylor Swift nic-nacs and other small presents. Astrid examined every one of them, reading every card and letter as the other girls got up to give her some personal space. They also collected some birthday hats they bought, along with a ‘18th birthday’ sash for her to wear.

“This is way too much, thank you.” Astrid jumped up, running to give them a hug again.

“Of course not, you deserve it.” Charli pressed a kiss to Astrids head. “But enough of this, we’re going to be late for breakfast if we don’t hurry up.” They all looked at the time and realised they had to be down in 10 minutes.

To Astrid’s surprise, the rest of the day was spent with the team as she thought most of them would be leaving today to go back to club. But when Kyra and Charli notified them of the important birthday a few months back, they all decided to stick around an extra day and celebrate their youngest member. She was showered with love throughout their team breakfast, when they went for a picnic lunch and then at a nice dinner where a cake was being brought out.

“Happy Birthday to Astrid, happy birthday to you.” The table cheered, taking photos and videos of Astrid and her cake, a wide smile on her face.

“HIP HIP!” Charli led the entire restaurant who had joined in.

“HOORAY!”

“HIP HIP!”

“HOORAY!”

“HIP HIP!”

“HOORAY!” Everyone clapped as Astrid leant forward to blow out the candles, silently making her wish that she could be with this group of people forever.

“Okay, now you have to skull your drink.” Sam who was sat across from Astrid pushed the girl’s almost full cocktail towards her. Her mouth opened in confusion. “It’s tradition, kid. It’s what you do at your 18th.” Sam simply shrugged her shoulders, Astrid looking to her other teammates who were nodding with grins, some holding their phones out to film her.

So she picked up her drink and began drinking it fast, trying not to spill any on her new dress. Everyone cheered and clapped until she was done and she wiped her mouth, showing off her empty drink.

A lot of the team members had left after dinner, opting to for an early sleep before their international flights, rather than taking Astrid clubbing for the first time. Those who remained with Astrid included, Kyra, Charli, Cortnee, Courtney, Clare Wheeler, Teagan, Ellie with Caitlin and Steph acting as chaperones for the youngsters.

Flash forward to 2am and the last remaining partiers stumbled into the hotel lobby by the guide of Steph and Caitlin. Charli and Cortnee held Astrid up with either of her arms, Courtney and Kyra following behind, Steph and Caitlin just watched all of them drunkenly walk to the lifts, trying not to laugh. They all eventually made it to their rooms, Steph instructing Charli to call her in case something happened with Astrid who was drunker than her.

Charli guided the girl who was almost passed out into their room and sat her down on her bed.

“Star, hey.” Charli stopped Astrid from falling asleep. “You’ll be mad at me tomorrow if we don’t get this makeup off and out of this dress. So just stay awake for a few more minutes. Okay?” Astrid nodded silently, using Charli’s outstretched arms to pull herself up and walk to the bathroom.

With makeup removed, teeth brushed and now both in pyjamas, Charli led the drunk girl back to her bed and helped her under the covers. As soon as Astrid’s head hit the pillow, she was out cold. Charli snapped a quick photo before falling asleep in her own bed.

Safe to say it was a good night out when Astrid woke up with a pounding headache, the natural sunlight pouring into the room harsh on her eyes, quickly pushing her face back into her pillow with a grunt.

“Oh welcome back from the dead.” Charli laughed as she walked out of the bathroom, Astrid lifting her head slowly to give the girl a death stare. “How do you feel, party girl?” Charli sat at Astrid’s feet, watching the girl slowly sit up, hands rubbing her face.

“Fucking shit.” She laughed as she met Charli’s face. “I went hard didn’t I?” Astrid rubbed her temples, attempting to ease the pounding in her head but it wasn’t working.

“Oh yeah. You did. Come on.” Charli laughed, hitting Astrid's feet as she stood herself up. “Let’s go soak up all that alcohol with food, coffee and water.” Astrid groaned but slowly got out of bed. After a shower and some fresh clothes, Charli and Astrid had made their way to the team breakfast room again where most of the team still sat, Astrid may have walked in with a pair of sunnies over her eyes.

“She made it through the night everyone!” Mackenzie threw an arm over Astrid’s shoulder as she rolled her eyes at the goalkeeper. She nudged her away and flipped her the bird with a smile before walking over to the coffee station.

“Fun night then?” Hayley asked as Astrid sat down next to her with an iced coffee and some buttered toast.

“Yeah… I think. I don’t remember a lot actually…” She took her sunnies off and rubbed her eyes. “I better ask the babysitters.” She directed her head over to where Steph and Caitlin sat.

“First night drinking and you got black out. Nice.” Sam reached across the table for a fist bump which Astrid loosely returned, shaking her head slowly, which ended up bringing back the headache that was fading into the background.

Everyone finished their breakfast slowly, taking in these last moments of camp together because not all of them would be together for quite a while. A lot of the senior players were going into an off season soon after returning to their international homes and taking a break for the first time in a while.

Everyone caught a flight together back to Sydney from Canberra before separating for their international and domestic flights, saying goodbye to each other in the departure terminals.

Kyra, Courtney and Charli were the last people Astrid had to say goodbye to, the three of them heading back to Sweden and Astrid sticking behind in Sydney.

“I’m going to miss you guys so much.” She brought them all in for a group hug quickly.

“It’s okay, we’ll be back together for the next camp soon.” Charli hugged Astrid singularly, squeezing her close to her one last time.

“Where hopefully we all get some more playing time.” Courtney smiled at the youngest girl.

“And we can have even more drunken nights with miss party animal over here.” Kyra teased, Astrid pushed her shoulder lightly, shaking her head.

“Alright, you guys better go before you miss your flight.” Astrid nodded at them to go, putting a small smile on her face that hid the fact she was quite sad she wasn’t going with them. One day, hopefully. “Have a safe flight. Love you.” Astrid called out as they walked away.

“Love you stargirl. I’ll text when we land.” Charli yells back before they are out of view.

“Ready to go?” Cortnee came up behind Astrid, she had been patiently waiting for her to say her goodbyes after her own with other teammates.

“Yeah, sorry for making you wait.” Astrid apologised as they wheeled their luggage out of the doors and began making their way to Cortnee’s car they left parked before camp.

“No, it’s all good. I get it.” Cortnee smiled over at Astrid. They made their way back to Astrid’s apartment where Cortnee dropped her off. They said their own goodbyes, Astrid promising to text her later as she made her way inside.

Her place was small, one bed, one bath, a kitchen and a living room, but she didn’t need much more for just herself. She was leaving again to go back home tomorrow, seeing her extended family for the first time since Christmas to celebrate her birthday with them. That meant she had the next 16 hours to unpack, repack, sleep and get on the road to Bateau Bay.

She also had to think about the next club season and what that looked like for her. Her short contract with Sydney FC was officially over and her agent hadn’t contacted her just yet about whether that was going to continue or if other clubs were looking at her for the 2022/2023 season. Hopefully she would know soon and her future would be clearer than it is now.

to be continued...

#auswnt #auswnt x reader #matildas #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross #alanna kennedy #caitlin foord #charli grant #mackenzie arnold #sam kerr #steph catley

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winchester-girl67 · 1 year

Text

My Father's Daughter

Summary: Y/N gets nervous when her anti-possession tattoo heals overnight. On her second attempt to make it stick she meets a boy that she might have more in common with then she thinks.

Requested by @rachelcarroll1819 : “Can you do ome where the readers is the daughter of luicfer that john and bobby found as a baby bobby ends up raising her as his owns then when angels show up her powers finally show up also and sje in a relationship with either dean or sam ( whichever works for me)”

Pairing: Dean x Nephilim!reader

Square: Tattoo @supernatural-jackles

Word Count: 5,805

Warnings: some SPN spoilers for season 12-15 (mainly surrounding Jack, and nephilim), not canon, language, adoption and related topics, implied relationship with Dean before the reader’s 18th birthday (reader and Dean are both 18), implied minor allergic reaction, injured!Dean, injuried!reader, blood, a little violence (involving guns/angel blades), angst, a little pining, kissing, fluff

A/N: This is before Castiel joins the Winchester’s side, I also took some liberties with the nephilim lore. Jack is such a fun character to write for, I had to include him in this request… Enjoy :) Also written for @supernatural-jackles’ Tell Me a Story bingo.

_____

“What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks?” You gasped at your reflection in the mirror. “Balls, that can’t be a good sign.”

You held open the collar of your flannel and traced your fingers over the unblemished flesh below your collarbone. It was easy to ignore when it happened the first time. A pencil standing on its point for three seconds longer than it should’ve was easy to play off as an illusion soaked in extreme boredom at the time. Strange occurrences were common especially around the Winchesters or anyone involved with the Winchesters, but this was- wasn’t possible. It was your eighteenth birthday yesterday and Dean brought you to get your first tattoo, an anti-possession symbol. You had it inked into the left side of your chest over your breast, just like him, but now it was gone as if it had... healed.

You decided not to tell anyone and buttoned your shirt a little higher than usual. You would just go back to the tattoo parlour today before you met up with Dean. You kept the little anomalies like this to yourself more often than not lately, after finding out you were adopted and who your biological father really was. Lucifer. Talk about daddy issues. You didn’t want anyone finding out that you had inherited anything from him. Eighteen years without a single sign of angelic anything and now you couldn’t deny there was something filtering through you, trying to get out. It felt like power.

“Meeting Dean this early, pumpkin?” Your father, Bobby, asked as you bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen. You nodded, not wanting to lie to him but it was for the best, “Do your old man a favour and grab something to eat before you head out.”

“Alright, dad.” You said, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

“You make sure that boy gets you home in time for dinner,” he cocked an eyebrow at you, “I mean it this time, Y/N. I will get my shotgun out if you’re a minute past six, got it?”

You were his little girl, but he wouldn’t actually shoot Dean, right?

You laughed and nodded, playing it off as a joke. He could only be about eighty-percent serious, at most. You didn’t have a curfew but tonight was an exception. There were family and friends and family-friends, coming over to celebrate your birthday, since yesterday was a weekday and Bobby had steaks marinating in the fridge.

“We’ll be home on time, promise. Bye, daddy.” You pecked him on the cheek and turned his cap around so the visor was in the back.

“Always with the damn hat,” he grumbled as he fixed it back to the front.

You giggled as you twirled out of the room and bit into your apple. You took a couple of bites before holding it between your lips as you laced up your boots and slipped on your jacket.

Outside, you chucked the core into the tall grass opposite the house and climbed onto your motorcycle. You started it up and pulled your hair into a quick braid for the wind, otherwise it would tangle to an extent that could never be brushed out, and took your helmet off the handlebars. You secured the strap under your chin and revved the engine as you kicked it into gear, fish-tailing around before speeding off down the laneway.

Leaves were changing colour and it was cooler outside now. For a moment you wished you had remembered your gloves but you would power through, the tattoo parlour wasn’t too far away anyway. You chose a different parlour across town than the one Dean had brought you to, just in case the artist that tattooed you the day before was on shift today too. Too many questions would be asked and you didn't have the answers.

It was easier this time around, since you knew what to expect and how much it would sting, but you hated that Dean wasn’t there to hold your hand. The woman wiped away the excess ink when she was done the final flame and held up a mirror for you to see. You grinned at the permanent ink, marring your flesh the same way it did Sam and Dean and Bobby and every other hunter you knew.

To anyone else, they’d probably think it was odd but to you it meant protection and family. It was pretty, even with the red raw edges that would eventually flatten out as your skin healed. You loved the way new tattoos raised the skin and appeared to jump out at you. You felt like a badass sporting your fresh ink and bit your lip at your excited smile.

The artist snapped a pic for her portfolio and the shop’s website and you noticed a boy about your age smiling at you from behind the gap in the privacy curtains. He was sitting in the waiting area with his hands on his knees and just staring. At. You.

“Hello.” He said when you passed him on your way out.

His blonde hair was combed to the side, unlike Dean’s whose was always spiked up like an angry hedgehog. You gave him a nod of your head and nothing more. Glancing back at the parlour as you climbed onto your motorcycle, partially just to make sure he didn’t follow you out. He didn’t give off any creeper vibes but he was… odd.

“Ow,” you hissed suddenly as your chest burned. You pulled aside your flannel to see the tattoo glowing white hot before it fizzled out. Your body healing itself again and your tattoo disappearing. You looked up at the tattoo parlour sullenly, there would be no point in trying again. “Shit-balls.”

Just when you thought puberty was over. What the hell was going on with your body now? All you could think was that your bio-dad’s genes were finally kicking in.

It would be easy enough to hide it from Bobby, not so much Dean. Things were getting heated between you two lately and it was inevitable that he’d see you in a bra again. The thing was, the only people who knew about your bio-dad were John, who had passed away a couple years ago and Bobby, who promised never to tell another living soul; especially the boys. Sam would probably understand but he was four years younger than you and he couldn’t keep a secret from his older brother. Dean on the other hand, thought of things in black and white and anything tainted with the blood of a monster must be a monster in and of itself. And Lucifer was a monster, you heard the stories.

You wanted to be like Bobby, not your bio-dad and you wanted Dean to keep loving you. Which you weren’t entirely sure was possible if you told him that you were a nephilim. Until recently you had been questioning it yourself but you couldn’t ignore the weirdness surrounding you anymore or the dreams you’d been having of a man with glowing red eyes, a raspy voice calling out to you. You always woke up in a cold sweat and now you were thinking they might be more than just dreams. Maybe if you’d said something Bobby could help you make them stop.

You started up your motorcycle and pulled on your helmet, glancing back at the parlour one last time and watching as the blonde boy walked down the steps. He still had a smile on his face when his blue eyes met yours and he raised his hand to wave. Then he started walking towards you and you didn’t stick around to find out what he wanted. You weren’t in the mood to be hit on, although you didn’t get that vibe from him. He had more of an innocence about him. You still weren't in the mood.

You must’ve drove past the laneway to your house six times before you decided you couldn’t face your father or everyone else who had congregated there for your birthday dinner. Bobby had bragged about you finally getting your anti-possession tattoo and becoming a real hunter and what if someone asked to see it? How could you explain that?

You went to the one quiet place where you could always think. The graveyard on the west side of town. You didn’t know anyone there but you felt it was nice if someone visited them from time to time. You were always respectful and you liked to sit on the bench at the back between the overgrown trees. The spot was hidden from the road and you could hear the resident owl from time to time.

It was late now and well past six, when dinner was supposed to be ready. Bobby would likely be fuming or worried as hell, probably both. On the brightside, Dean would be with him and everyone else so Bobby would have no reason to blame him or shoot him. Except it was possible he still might try.

You checked your phone to find too many messages from both Bobby and Dean, all asking where you were and when you were getting back. One more recent one asking if you were in trouble. You typed off an ‘I’m fine’ when you heard the leaves crunch under the weight of a sneaker.

You whipped your head around to find the blonde boy from the tattoo parlour peeking out from behind the trunk of a tree. He smiled brightly as he slowly approached you, waving again and if you were about to make a run for it, you no longer felt the need.

“Hello, I’m Jack. I’m sorry if I scared you earlier. This is my first time..." he paused, seemingly struggling to find the word, "-talking." He grinned again.

“O-okay.”

Did he just break some sort of oath-of-silence or something?

You were still skeptical even if you weren’t scared. He wasn’t all that big, kinda skinny, you could take him in a fight if you had to.

“Are you following me?” You asked, he smiled and nodded like he didn’t understand how creepy it was to admit to following someone. “Why, -the fuck?” You almost laughed, it was so awkward, but you settled for a single puff of air. “How’d you find me?”

"I've been looking for you, I’ve been wanting to meet you, you're not easy to find, I can only sense you some of the time -This place is nice." He glanced around, it was hardly the word you would use to describe a graveyard but what-the-hay there were stranger things at foot, “You seem troubled. Can I help?"

"Um, no? I'm just a bit confused. You ‘sensed’ me?" You asked, squinting your eyes up at him.

"You put off an energy when you're stressed and I could tell you needed me. It smells like... sour strawberries -Are strawberries good?" He asked and tilted his head. Dude was weird, but probably harmless.

“Um, yeah, when they have chocolate on them, otherwise they make my tongue feel funny.” You shrugged, Dean had bought you chocolate covered strawberries for Valentine’s day, almost made it worth the itchy throat. “Why do you think I need you? I don't need you, I don't even know you.”

“We have more in common than you think.” He alluded and you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face as he stood there.

“I’m getting impatient, Jack, and you won’t like me when I’m impatient.” You quipped and he tilted his head in confusion. Dean was rubbing off on you, after all those hours watching ‘classic’ movies with him. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you feel so familiar?” That was the feeling you were picking up from him, a closeness; you finally figured it out.

“I’m your brother.”

Your face blanched, “The only person I’d consider a brother is Sammy -even if it is a little awkward since I am dating his actual brother- but we’re not related, we just grew up together, sort of... our dad’s knew each other and we hung out… quite a bit actually but that’s not the point. I don’t have blood relatives, up here, anyway.”

“But we have one in common, down there." Jack pointed as he laughed and sat down beside you.

You scooched over to the end of the bench, "So... Your father...?"

"Is Lucifer, yes, and so is yours." He said.

Did he always smile? He seemed too cheery to be a descendant of the Devil himself. At least you had the decency to be unbearably irritable once a month.

"Prove it," you smirked back snidely. Yup, too much time around Dean.

"Okay," he pulled a long silver blade from his jacket, one you knew as an angel blade and levitated it in the air. He moved his fingers and the blade mimicked his motions. "Pretty cool, huh?"

You nodded and remembered the pencil; could you do something like that someday? Maybe you had to focus more or less, he didn't seem to put much effort into it.

"Do you want to try?" He asked, grabbing the blade from mid air and handing it over to you. "It's easy, just focus on what you want it to do and make it happen."

You focused on the blade in your hands and squinted your eyes, picturing it spinning in a circle like a top. You almost burst a blood vessel in your eye before you huffed and gave up, "It's no use! I can't do it."

"You're just trying too hard. We can work on it," he smiled again and you handed him back the blade.

Jack wasn't a threat, somehow you just knew, but how long was he planning on staying? And if he stayed you'd have to explain yourself and him to Bobby, that wasn't something you were looking forward to.

"Do you have any tattoos?" You asked.

"No, should I?" He asked, his smile fell and he looked worried for a moment as if you wouldn't like him if he didn't.

"I tried to get one, twice now, but it keeps healing." You pulled open your flannel a little to touch the skin where the tattoo should've been. "Kinda sucks, you know? I've been injured on hunts before and I have scars, so it doesn't make any sense to me. Why now?"

"Maybe..." he thought and tucked the blade back into his jacket, "Your powers are only developing now because you grew up slowly. You had a normal adolescence."

"I'd hardly call my childhood normal," you rolled your eyes. You were raised as a hunter and Bobby took you out for target practice every Sunday and when John and the boys were in town, you would have to participate in sparring and weapons training, all before you could read. And when you could read, lore was added to your studies along with your typical -normal school work. "How come you have your powers already then? You're about my age."

"I had to grow up faster than you, there are things -people here that want to hurt me and I needed them to protect myself." He explained, “That’s probably why yours are just showing up, your body feels it too.”

“Feels what?”

“Our father, his return.”

“Bio-dad, Lucifer?” You huffed, “Uh-yeah, I don’t think so. My surrogate dad sealed him in a cage eighteen years ago with the late-great John Winchester, you might’ve heard of him? Trust me, dude, we’re safe.”

“You can’t feel him? Maybe I can help you along,” Jack reached out to touch your forehead with two fingers and before you could push his hand away your body was flooded with images, feelings, light, dark, energy -it was too much and you pulled away, trying to catch your breath and blink away the numbing headache.

You gulped and met his blue eyes, “How are you only a day old?!”

Not only had he transferred everything he felt to you but also every memory he ever had, tracing back to even when they were just feelings in the womb of his mother. You didn’t remember any of the same stuff from your own life. How could you be the same but totally different? You were stressed beyond belief, your mind racing a mile a minute and that’s when you noticed the pulsing light coming from your palms.

“Um, Jack,” you said, inspecting your palms and turning them to face him as the light got brighter and pulsed more frequently with every heavy heartbeat. “What’s happening to me?”

“I helped you find your powers, they were -uh… hidden. I just pulled them to the surface so now you can access them.” He smiled and you gaped as a single pulse of light left your palms, hitting Jack like a force field and knocking him off the bench. He landed a good ten metres away but shook it off and stood back up, “-Ouch.”

Voices filled your mind as if multiple people were whispering in your ears all at once and they kept getting louder and louder until all you heard was a blaring hiss as if a radio was in the midst of tuning. You fell off the bench, clutching your ears with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as if it would help.

You screamed over the noise though you couldn’t hear yourself, “Jack! Jack!”

You felt his hands rest over yours and a moment later the noise faded away. You sighed and blinked open your eyes. Your ears felt as if they were bleeding and you touched them to check.

“What the balls was that?” You asked, catching your breath.

“Angel radio, I forgot to warn you it can be overwhelming but you’ll get the hang of it. It gets easier to tune out with practice.” Jack said, helping you to your feet.

“I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, me either.”

“All I really heard was buzzing, will I be able to understand them? When I get the hang of it.” You could hardly believe this was your life now, hearing angelic voices in your head and pulsing shockwaves from your palms.

“Yes,” he nodded, “The pain will always be there though.”

“What were they saying?” You asked, noticing the dirt on your jeans and brushing off your knees.

“It was a distress signal about Lucifer.” Jack explained, brushing some crumpled bits of dried leaves from your shoulder.

You heard someone approach, heavy on their heels, “Get away from her!” Dean yelled with his gun drawn, eyeing Jack like he was ready to kill.

But you didn’t want him to hurt Jack, your little brother, “Dean, No!” You spun around and held up a hand. You didn’t mean to release another shockwave and it sent Dean flying into the tree behind him. He hit it back first and slumped to the ground, unconscious. “DEAN!”

You ran to him and cradled him in your arms, pulling his head to your chest. Tears welled in your eyes and dripped onto his cheeks as you curled over him and rocked back and forth. You didn’t know if it was your new powers but you could tell he wasn’t okay. He hit his head hard and you didn’t even know if he’d wake back up.

“Stay right there, boy.” You heard your father’s voice warn Jack as he approached you.

“Daddy?” You sobbed.

“It’s okay, pumpkin, he’s gonna be okay.” Bobby crouched next to you and inspected Dean’s head. His hand was covered in blood when he touched the back of it. He frowned and scrubbed the other palm over his scruff, “Oh, balls! Hang on, Dean.”

“Y/N,” Jack risked a step forward even with Bobby’s gun still trained on him. “I can help him. I’ve done it before.”

He had, hadn’t he? A single memory of Jack healing his birth mom while still in her womb came to mind. He wasn’t lying. You nodded and put your hand on Bobby’s gun to lower it. You weren’t even sure at this point if a bullet could even hurt him... or you anymore. Now that you feel more angelic than human.

Jack knelt next to Dean and laid a hand on his head. His fingers glowed a warm gold, the same colour as his irises and you felt Dean’s body react; his heart stabilizing with stronger beats and his breathing evening out until he began to stir. You watched intently as his green eyes fluttered open and you wiped away your tears, then dried his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Are you okay?” You whispered when he locked eyes with you.

He stared up at you, registering all that just happened and then a shot rang through your ears. Dean sat up and pushed away from you, his gun smoking in his hand and you looked down at your chest. Where he shot you.

“Idjit! What did you do?!” Bobby yelled at Dean and tried to inspect your wound. It actually didn’t hurt all that much and when you opened your shirt, the same golden glow you’d seen moments ago healed the wound until it was as if it was never there.

“That’s not Y/N! What are you, you bitch?! What did you do with her?!” Dean shouted, raising his gun again. "I swear if you hurt her-"

“Boy, you better put that gun down if you wanna see your next birthday.” Bobby warned and Dean glanced between you both, noting that he was the one out of the loop. He lowered the gun but kept it ready on his thigh and felt the back of his head curiously. “I was wonderin’ when those nephilim powers of yours would kick in, the only question I got is... Who in the holy balls is this guy?” Bobby asked, nudging his head towards Jack.

You always loved how he could incorporate balls into any sentence whether it fit or not and you guessed you did it too; you were your father’s daughter after all.

“He’s -um, my brother. Half-brother.” You said and glanced back at Jack who smiled and held a hand up as if to shake your father’s. Bobby didn’t reciprocate though and you added, “On my bio-dad’s side, obviously.”

It was well known that a human mother couldn't survive the birth of a nephilim child. Your note was more to tip off Bobby to shut up in front of Dean about it. Not that Bobby took the hint since he probably felt the cat was out of the bag anyways.

“So, good-old Lucy got sprung from the cage, eh? I figured that would happen eventually -was hoping for more time though.” Bobby grunted and fixed his cap like he did when he was unnerved and not wanting to show it.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t have a fucking clue what in the hell is going on? Y/N?!” Dean huffed and furrowed his brow.

“I -um,” you didn’t know how to explain. “I -um, I’m adopted. Surprise.”

“You’re Lucifer’s daughter?” Dean asked, catching on quickly.

The light in his eyes dimmed at the idea and you knew you needed to correct him and fast.

"No! No, I am Bobby’s daughter and I suppose... a by-product of Lucifer’s sperm donation.”

Dean nodded, then cringed. "That’s kind of gross.”

“I’m still me, Dean, the girl you’re in love with but won’t ever admit it to.” You said, hoping for him to see you the same way he did before. “I’m the same girl.”

“No, you’re not. Your eyes are different.” He stared hard like he was trying to see past something.

You looked to Bobby as if he had the answers, “Your eyes are glowing, pumpkin.”

You imagined your reflection with the eyes you’d seen Jack wear when his powers filtered through him. Then you felt it, the difference, you weren’t in control of them yet, they manifested with the waves in your emotions. It was extremely hard to control.

“Jack, how do I make it stop?” You asked and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Take a deep breath and let it go.” Jack said.

You didn’t think it could really be that fucking easy, but gave it a try. When you opened your eyes again you could feel the light dimming and then extinguish. You were exhausted.

“I wanna go home.” You looked to your father and he nodded. Jack’s smile seemed to turn upside down and you added, “Can Jack come too?”

“Might as well, party’s cleared out anyhow.” Bobby stood up and eyed Jack, sizing him up. You could tell your father didn’t trust him yet, but you knew Jack was good, you could feel it.

“Sorry I missed the party.” You stood up and hugged Bobby.

“Don’t worry about it, pumpkin.” He patted your back and ruffled up your hair when you broke the hug. You frowned and tried to tuck the loose strands of hair back into your braid. “We should get outta here before-”

You heard what could only be described as a rush of feathers before a bald man in a suit appeared before you, "Hello, Robert.”

“It’s Bobby, jackass.”

There was another louder rush and two others appeared next to him. One of them oddly wore a trench-coat over his suit. You knew instantly that these men were angels. You could see their halos shine brightly above their heads. A side effect of finally getting your nephilim powers you assumed. In all your time hunting you hadn't come across any angels, you never wanted to either based off of the stories Bobby and other hunters told you.

"Zachariah," Bobby said, nodding at the bald angel before him, then the other in the tight suit, "Uriel... long time, no see."

You knew from your studies that Uriel was an archangel, by far more powerful than the others, even if he seemed to let Zachariah take charge at the moment.

“I thought we had an understanding." Zachariah continued, "If the nephilim child showed any signs of getting her powers you were supposed to contact me, right away."

“Like you wouldn’t have known, don’t you have some sort of angelic radar? As soon as the kid showed any signs of grace you'd feel it. That’s why you’re here isn’t it.” Bobby snapped back at the man, or angel wearing some poor sap as a meat-suit like a demon would.

“Precisely, which is why we wanted to avoid an event large enough to attract our attention. She hurt the boy, didn't she? That could've been avoided. She is an abomination and she will offset the order of the universe, given the time; there’s only one way to deal with this sort of thing... Castiel.”

The angel wearing the trench-coat stepped forward with a stoic face as if he was about to carry out some unspoken order. Like a good little soldier of heaven. An angel blade dropped into his hand from his shirtsleeve and he advanced towards you. You stumbled back and Jack grabbed your hand and puffed out his chest. Castiel stopped in his tracks just as both your eyes began to glow.

“That can’t be.” Castiel said as he backed off. He glanced back at Zachariah and then disappeared with a flutter of his wings. At least he knew when he was outranked.

The others however, Zachariah and Uriel, did not retreat and advanced upon you. Each with their own angel blade in hand. You and Jack channeled your powers together and raised your hands. You released a joint shockwave that blew them apart to mere atoms which floated away in the wind like snowflakes on a cold winter day. Your power alone was great, but together it was unmatched.

There would be no issues destroying or caging Lucifer when the time came for it. But you would have to find him first. Or maybe he would find you now that your powers had emerged. Apparently it sent up a pretty big blip on the angelic radar or whatever Bobby called it and Lucifer was probably still connected to that, right? Or at least had some sort of version of it.

"Holy hell,” Bobby cursed, “Come on, Y/N, we best be getting home before someone or something else comes looking for them or who did that to 'em."

You let your father lead the way to his truck and towed Jack along with you. Meanwhile Dean trailed behind keeping a watchful eye on your new found brother. All the while not saying much.

He didn't say anything actually, not even when you remembered your motorcycle. He just took the keys from you so you could drive back with your family. Or maybe he just didn't want to be squished into the cab of that old Ford with a being more powerful than an archangel -that was born yesterday- and your father. Bobby was super protective of you, and Dean and his relationship was strained because of that. It was a miracle they drove here together without someone getting shot now that you thought of it.

And Dean's silent treatment continued for days longer than any fight you'd had with him since you had gotten together. You didn't even know if you were still together anymore. So to say you were surprised to see him show up when Bobby and Jack went out on a day trip for some bonding, was an understatement.

"Hiya, sweetheart." Dean said, standing in the front doorway and glancing behind you, his eyes searching the space. "Bobby out?" He asked, you nodded, "How 'bout your -uh... b-brother?"

"You mean Jack?" You asked, he'd probably just forgotten his name. Dean gave you a soft smile and nodded twice, "Yeah, s'just me home. Why, you come to snuff out the monsters? One abomination at a time?"

Dean pushed his brows together and frowned down at you. "Listen, girly-"

"Girly?!-"

"Y/N," Dean pleaded, slipping your name off his tongue with his hands held up as if to pose no threat. "I know Bobby said you needed time and you didn't wanna talk to me, but I just gotta get this off my chest and then I'm gone, okay? Can you just listen? Please."

That wasn't true. Bobby lied. But you motioned for him to continue anyways.

"I was pissed at you. For not telling me, not trusting me. You were there for me when my father-" Dean choked up and cleared his throat. His eyes watered as he searched for the right words to say, "I just -I didn't understand why you didn't want me there for you, so I blamed you. But then I thought about it, really thought about it and it's no wonder you couldn't trust me, hell, why would you? All I've ever done is maim and kill-"

You'd heard enough, "Dean, I trust you! Nothing's ever going to change that and I didn't tell my dad to tell you shit. You just looked so hurt, I didn't know how to reach out and thought maybe you didn't want me to." You chewed on your lip before you decided to swallow your embarrassment and rolled your eyes at yourself, "Fuck it, I love you." It was the first time either of you said that out loud, "And I know at one point you felt the same about me and I guess, I'm just hoping that's still the case?"

Dean gave a delicate nod and shrug of his shoulders, "You'll always belong with me, Y/N." He confessed and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you. You let him and he pressed his forehead to yours. "And I care about you, too."

It hurt a little that he didn't say it back, but that was close enough for you. Dean wasn't touchy-feely in the case of emotions and you didn't need to make him say it. You felt it in the way he clutched you to him and you sunk into his embrace.

Dean pressed a hard kiss to your temple and another open lipped kiss to your cheek. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips before his mouth molded to yours and your tongues touched. His movements were slow and passionate and when his fingertips touched that ticklish spot on your neck you giggled into the kiss.

He felt like coming home; safety and warmth in his arms. Even if you didn't need protecting anymore, it was nice. It was the first time in days you let yourself relax and it seemed like you weren't the only one.

Dean pulled away to let you catch your breath and you slowly blinked open your eyes to meet his. He let out a breathy chuckle and his forehead fell to yours again, his eyes admiring yours with an amused grin on his face.

"Your eyes are glowing," he breathed and sucked on his bottom lip. "You are so damn beautiful.” And he brushed the hair from your face. “You’re everything to me.” You felt his eyelashes brush your cheek and his hand sink from your lower back to grip your butt cheek. "You’re my everything.”

Your cheeks instantly hurt from smiling so bright at his words.

His other hand met on your backside and you squealed when he squeezed hard enough to bruise, but only for a second. Dean chuckled, slapped your butt and kissed you again. And you got lost in it.

Until the backdoor slammed shut, “Boy, get your damn hands off my daughter!" Bobby commanded as he set the cooler he was carrying on top of the counter.

Jack followed in behind him and smiled at Dean with a small wave.

Dean stopped kissing you and raised his hands as he stepped away from you. He was grinning wildly and biting his lip, his eyes roaming your body like they always did before they held your gaze.

You so easily fell back into the way things were before with him and this was the good part. The part where you could speak novels with a wink of an eye. It was like a language only the two of you could speak and he was saying 'I still love you, so damn much'.

Your father cleared his throat and you rolled your eyes, "Dad, I thought you said you were taking Jack fishing? Shouldn't that take a couple more hours?"

"Not a chance, pumpkin." Bobby side-eyed Dean, "Besides, kid, already caught a week's worth. He's a natural." He boasted, coming around to Jack much faster than you expected him to.

"I'm a natural," Jack repeated and beamed with a little tilt of his head. He bounced on his heels, twice, he was so excited.

You groaned and shook your head, "I'm surrounded by dorks."

"What's a dork?" Jack asked and furrowed his brow.

Dean answered, "A little brother."

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

Forever SPN: @hobby27

Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15

#tell me a story bingo #dean x nephilim!reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #dean x #dean winchester x #spn fanfic #supernatural reader insert #jack kline fanfic #spn reader insert #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean one shot #Supernatural fanfic

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doveabovetheworld · 2 months

Text

Seasons of Love

Sam Kiszka x Reader

Summary; Your boyfriend has always been over the top when it came to holidays but Valentines Day was a whole new level. He always did something different that topped the previous years. What does he have in store for this year?

Warnings; Tons of fluff, talks of marriage, proposals, slight hints towards 18+ acts

A/N; This was based off of my post I made of GVF as Holidays a while back (cus I absolutely suck at staying consistent in anything). Anyways, I thought this little story would be fun to put out there for Valentine’s Day and to get back into writing because I really miss it. But, enough of that! Happy Late Valentine’s Day everyone, spreading love to all!! 💕💕💕

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valentine’s Day was always your and Sam’s day. It was the day that you two could spoil one another and be shameless about it. It was the day you two could show as much affection as you wanted. It was your day. You knew he always had something new up his sleeves so this year was just as exciting. He was playing this up for weeks, saying there were big surprises that he had for you.

Emphasis on surprises.

That morning, you woke up expecting to have Sam’s arms wrapped around you, holding onto you as he slept, but he wasn’t there.

It was just you and the comforter keeping you warm from the winter breezes as it snuck in through the window.

You sighed as you got up from the warmth of your bed, going to the closet to pull a sweater over your head. You went down the stairs if your’s and Sam’s tiny house and immediately was hit with the smell of bacon. As you walked into the kitchen, that’s when you saw Sam.

His puppy dog-like smile, mixed with messy morning hair made your heart melt. He was just adorable.

“Good morning, sweetness,” you said with a tired smile, going to hug him from behind.

“There’s my girl! How’d you sleep?” Sam asked, turning to face you slightly.

“Good… Missed you this morning, though.”

“Well, now you have me in your arms,” Sam said, giving the top of your head a kiss.

He smiled at you before turning back to the stove where he was making pancakes, eggs, and bacon. After a few minutes, he finished it and the house was filled with the delicious smell.

“Alright, hun,” Sam started as he fixed up two plates. “Breakfast is served!”

You smiled as you sat down at the dining room table, digging into the breakfast that Sam made. It was amazing! The bacon was crispy but not too crispy, the pancakes were fluffy and flavorful, and the eggs weren't bad at all either!

“Thank you for the lovely breakfast today, Sam,” you said after you finished your plate, starting to stand up.

“Anything for my girl,” he started, smiling up at you with a proud smile. “What time do you go into work this morning?”

“Gosh…” you took in a deep breath, looking at the clock on your phone. “Like an hour?”

“Okay, I’ll see you when you get back, right?” he asked, grabbing onto your hand.

“Of course you will! Trust me, I’m gonna come home and we’ll have loads of fun tonight.”

“Good,” he responded, smiling uncontrollably. He gave you a small kiss before letting go.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later in the evening, you finally got home from work. You were longing to be home and by Sam, making the day drag on more than usual. The house lights were dimmed to a warm aura and the whole house smelled of vanilla mixed with roses. You took off your shoes and set your belongings down on the couch, looking for Sam.

“Sammy? Hun, I’m home!” You called out, walking through the living room.

“In here!” His voice echoed, from the dining room.

You walked into the dining room with a smile as you saw the romantic setup. The lights in this room were the same as throughout the house, dimmed to be warm. And the sweet scent was coming from three pink candles in the center of the table, the flame flickering across the glass bottle of wine, surrounding a vase of burgundy roses. Your favorite. Light orchestral music played from a speaker that made your heart flutter.

Sam walked into the room from the kitchen carrying two plates of your favorite dinner. He smiled as he saw you and set down the plates, saying, “Hey there, princess! How was work?”

You smiled at how sweet this whole setting and how amazing of a boyfriend Sam was. “Work was good! Definitely boring though.”

“Well, no more being bored tonight. I have dinner all ready and another small surprise.” Sam said, pulling you close to him by the waist.

“You’re too sweet… Thank you, for all of this,” you said in almost a whisper, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Anything for you,” His voice went down to a whisper as he spoke. You felt his thumb caress the bit of skin peeking out from the bottom of your shirt.

He gave you a small peck on the cheek before taking your hand and leading you to the chair you always sit at, pulling it out for you. You sat down and smiled up at him, your eyes following his body as he sat down right next to you.

“I hope you like dinner,” he started, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it. “Want some?”

“Yeah, thank you,” you said with a warm smile, just admiring him. He seemed a bit more nervous than usual.

As he poured the red wine into both of the glasses, handing one back to you, he gave you a small smile. One that showed love and softness. Your heart fluttered at the scene around you as well as the gentleman you were able to call yours.

“Okay, tell me,” you said, taking a sip of the wine. “What gave you the idea for this? I mean, I love it, it’s adorable, I’m just curious.”

He let a small laugh part his lips before speaking.

“I dunno… I guess I just wanted to do something simple.”

You felt yourself melt at his words. It wasn’t just a simple dinner. You and him both knew that. It took a long time to prepare and he seemed so proud of himself for it.

“Well, simple or not, it’s beautiful,” you answered, taking his hand in yours.

He looked down at your hands before speaking in a more shaky tone. “What if I said I wanted to marry you?”

You let a small laugh out, not out of mock but of surprise. “Marry? Hun, we’ve talked about this a few times… I mean, I’d love to marry you someday.”

“And by someday you mean in a year or so?”

“By someday I mean whenever.”

“So… If I pulled out a ring right here, right now, would you say yes?” He asked, looking into your eyes, a mischievous smile forming.

You stopped breathing for a moment, laughing nervously. “Like, hypothetically?”

“Maybe.”

“I mean… Yes, I would,” you said, smiling a bit.

Sam’s smile grew, getting up from his chair and getting on one knee, right next to your chair. He took your hand and smiled at you. “Will you marry me?”

He pulled out a small box, opening it to show a beautiful gold and rose gold ring. You let out a gasp, your breath hitching as you stared at the ring.

“Sam… You… Is… Is this real?” You asked with a huge smile, a few tears starting to form.

“Yeah, darling,” Sam said, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s real.”

You fluttered your eyes a bit to get the tears cleared out, making them roll down your cheeks. You nodded and smiled, trying to control the tears that fell. This was the moment that would determine your future with Sam. A yes or no.

You looked at the ring and then to Sam, anxiety painted across his face. You nodded before saying, “Yes. Sam, of course I will.”

He let out a laugh and put the ring on you, pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

The kiss lasted a bit longer than usual, his hands now on your waist as he pulled back a bit. You could see a bit of pink on his cheeks while he smiled at you.

“Maybe, after dinner, we could… go upstairs, end this day off in bed?” Sam asked with a mischievous smile. He lightly tugged at the bottom of your shirt, making you giggle.

“I wouldn’t oppose to that…” you replied, looking at his lips and playing with some of his hair. He just smiled at you with warmth and love before kissing you again.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he said between kisses.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sam.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sammy kiszka #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka x reader #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #sammy gvf #danny gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf

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thenightling · 1 month

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Wednesday is NOT a rip-off of Harry Potter

This is something that I thought should be obvious. In fact I could swear I wrote a post like this over a year ago but apparently (if I had made such a post) it is lost now. So here's the new one. Lately I've seen a fresh spike in people insisting that the Netflix series Wednesday is a "rip off" of Harry Potter. "It the aesthetic is Harry Potter!" Really? How? Do you think Harry Potter was the first and only school to be a haunted castle? I guess you don't remember Gravedale High (animated series from 1990). Much like the modern Monster High, Gavedale high was a show about a school of monsters.

Before Gravedale High there was the animated TV movie Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School (1988) where Shaggy got a job as a PE teacher at a boarding school for the daughters of the classic movie monsters. This, very likely, inspired Monster High.

And before that there was the book series The Worst Witch and the first TV movie inspired by the books, which featured a song number from Tim Curry. This was about a little girl attending Witch School.

If we go back even further the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker has Van Helsing suggest that Dracula attended Scholomance (translates to "School of Magic") which has its roots in Eastern European folklore and helped inspire Yennefer's backstory in The Witcher. All of these pre-date Harry Potter. "But the students are divided into groups just like in Harry Potter." Yeah. So? "Houses" are a tradition in boarding schools in the UK and parts of the US. Also Nevermore Academy in Wednesday is mostly populated by supernatural entities that divide up in cliques based on what species the student is. You're going to tell me your school didn't have cliques? Jocks, nerds, Goths, rich kids, bad boys, etc. I'm not sure how a boarding school setting can even be done without dividing up into factions. You'd have to make a conscious effort to avoid it and it would come off as very awkward and unnatural. Harry Potter isn't as original as you seem to think it is. "But the uniforms have stripes." Okay, I'll let you have that one but the stripes and color patterns are different. The plotline of season 1 of Wednesday is closer to the live action Monster High musical movie (but with a more serious tone) than anything else. In the first Monster High live action movie the main villain turns out to be a teacher who is also a Hyde monster. In Wednesday the main villain is a teacher who is manipulating a Hyde Monster.

And both deal with classic monsters in a boarding school setting and allegories of prejudice.

And then you get the annoying argument from fake Addams Family fans of "But Wednesday didn't have any powers in the original." Oh, on the contrary. The new show says she inherited psychic abilities from Morticia. Morticia telling fortunes, sensing things, and even using a crystal ball comes up in the 1960s Addams Family TV series. Grandmama uses a crystal ball in the 90s Addams Family animated series. The 1970s Addams Family Halloween special has it that the spirit of Halloween / Anthropomorphic personification of Halloween "Uncle Shy" (implied to be the Great Pumpkin or you can retroactively say he was Jack Skellington or Sam from Trick 'r Treat). When your Uncle is literally the spirit of Halloween your family can have whatever you want in it. Wednesday even uses telepathy at one point in the 2019 Addams family animated movie franchise. And there's a conga line of Addams Family member ghosts in The Addams Family Broadway musical. They have a pet sentient hand. And no. It's not just that "Their Goth game is that good." Finally, I don't think there's a student at Nevermore Academy who is younger than sixteen. Hogwarts starts at age eleven. Twenty-one-year-old Jenna Ortega (Wednesday) doesn't look much like eleven-year-old to seventeen-year-old Daniel Radcliffe to me.

Stop giving J. K. Rowling so much credit.

#Wednesday #Wednesday Addams

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chucksfavouriteprophet · 1 year

Text

𖤐 Dean Winchester Masterlist 𖤐

Oneshots

Deja Vu - you’re on a hunt with Sam and Dean that brings back some dark memories. While trying to make sure the outcome they know doesn’t happen again, you get yourself into an unfortunate situation and can only hope the brothers reach you before it’s too late. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Giving Up - Today I got rejected from my dream job, and I just felt really lonely and lost. I suddenly thought about how Dean would react if I told him, and I pictured it would go a little like this. It made me feel a bit better. Fluff

I’ll Never Leave Your Side - After you return from Purgatory, exhaustion takes over and the reality of the past few months hits you. But, as always, Dean is there to take care of you. Pure fluff

Healing - After a horrific experience at a bar, you blame yourself for letting your guard down and getting in the situation in the first place. As always, Dean is there to clean you up and help you get through it. Hurt/comfort, fluff

The Cowgirl - (Requested) Sam and Dean head to a bull riding show on a job, only to be met with a headstrong girl with a talent for riding big burley bulls. With a passion for all things cowboy, you and Dean click pretty quickly. Smut

Heaven is a Place on Earth - (Requested) After Cas is killed by Lucifer, a strange new Angel turns up claiming to have been sent by him. Dean doesn't like the sound of it, but maybe a Guardian Angel is what he's needed all along. Season 13 spoilers, angst

Not Waving but Drowning - (Requested) After fighting with Dean, you get into trouble on a hunt. Separated from the boys, your life hangs in the balance and they must put their feelings aside to save you. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

End of the Line - (Requested) Your relationship with Dean is on the rocks, and after a miscommunication on a hunt, things go downhill. Angst

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Series

The Girl Can Bite Too, You Know - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - While trying to keep your business afloat, you get caught in the crossfire of a Winchester hunt and have no choice but to get involved. Much to Dean's enjoyment, you're a feisty one with no intention of letting the monsters get the better of you. Thus starts a whole new opportunity for adventure. /completed/

The Intrusion (master list) - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Having lived alone in your secret batcave for years now, the last thing you expected was two burly hunters to come storming in acting like they own the place. Somehow, you've got to make this strange dynamic work, but inevitably secrets will spill and hearts will break in the process. /completed/

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean fanfic #dean winchester x yn #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester series

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ejzah · 8 months

Note

Got inspired after watching the early season 1 episode, Past Lives. Could you write a fanfic where based on previous experiences, Kensi doesn't like flowers, but finally she starts to love them again when she begins to fall in love with Deeks.

I Hope He Buys You Flowers

***

February 2011

“What the hell is this?” Kensi demanded, upon walking into the bullpen and finding a light pink rose with a fine spray of baby’s-breath surrounding it.

In Kensi’s opinion, gifts of flowers never meant anything good. They were for apologies. For illness and death.

The house had been filled with flowers, buckets and wreaths and vases of the things when her dad died. When she was 19, her boyfriend before she met Jack gave her flowers and then she found out he liked another girl. She’d brought them to a few friends who were sick, or colleagues injured enough to land a stay in the hospital.

Flower gardens of course were an entirely different matter. She loved the idea of growing daisies, and moss roses, dahlias, and had even attempted to grow a few of her favorites in the past with predictably disastrous results.

Being give flowers though? No, she wasn’t really a fan. Especially when they were laying on her desk.

“No idea,” Callen answered her, sounding amused as she gingerly picked the little covering up between two fingers. “It was here when I came in.” Sam just shook his head.

“The flowers are courtesy of your favorite LAPD liaison,” Deeks announced grandly, coming from the direction of the stairs.

“You bought me a rose,” Kensi repeated.

“Yeah, and Nell and Hetty.” He tilted his head towards Callen and Sam. “Sorry, I didn’t get you guys any, cause I thought you might find it weird.”

“And we appreciate that,” Sam said.

Kensi sighed, already over the banter. “Ok, that still doesn’t answer the why. You know I hate flowers.”

“Valentine’s Day,” Deeks answered simply, like it was perfectly obvious.

“Which was two days ago,” Kensi reminded him.

“Yeah, and now everything is on clearance, flowers included. I always grab a few.” Deeks grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I might even share my Fannie Mae stash if you’re nice.”

“So, you just did this to be nice?” It was a foreign concept, especially when most gifts came with expectations.

“Pretty much,” Deeks said. “But you don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to.”

“No.” Kensi twirled the stem of the rose between her fingers, watching the colors swirl. “It’s ok. Thanks.”

***

July 2012

It had been a sucky, sucky birthday. Their case had run late, requiring Kensi to go undercover in a slinky dress and seduce a complete ass of a guy when all she really wanted to do was go home, eat store bought cake and zone out on Top Model.

She kicked off her shoes as she walked into her apartment, one landing somewhere under the couch, and she tugged her shirt off, leaving her in jeans and a tank top. That movement tweaked her strained ribs, because of course she’d gotten into an altercation with one of the armed guards at her would-be seductee’s mansion.

Thank god Deeks had been there to back her up. Instead of a bullet in the head, she’d come out with mildly bruised ribs and a sore hip. Which still seemed like a poor birthday present.

It would probably be smart to soak in a warm bath for a while, but that seemed like a lot of effort and Kensi was feeling decidedly sorry for herself. Heading straight into the kitchen, she scrounged up a personal frozen pizza—which was only a little frost burnt—a beer, and the rest of a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Carting all of her bounty back into the living room, she tossed it on the coffee table, she turned on the TV and scrolled through the channels. None of her go-to mindless shows were on, so she settled on some procedural that was a little slow paced and way too dramatic instead.

The doorbell rang just as she was about to take a bite of her pizza. Growling under her breath, Kensi pushed herself off the couch with a groan, intent on making the person on the other side of the door regret coming to her apartment.

She looked through the window, frowning when she found no one there, and only an unassuming brown paper bag on the top step. She opened the door cautiously, regarding the bag suspiciously until she found a little note card stapled to the top of the bag.

“Happy birthday, Kensalina. Sorry it wasn’t better,” it read on Deeks’ familiar handwriting.

Rolling her eyes, Kensi carried bag inside, clearing a spot on the table. She pulled out a bouquet of flowers, speckled lilies and small purple roses in the mix, a tiny stuffed koala, and underneath that, a slide of the best looking chocolate cake she’d ever seen.

She set each item on the table and surveyed them with a smile creeping at her lips despite everything. Deeks annoyed the hell out of her sometimes, but then there were times like tonight when he seemed to know exactly what she needed.

Bypassing her now cooled pizza, she popped open the plastic container and dug into the cake.

“Oh my god,” she muttered around a mouthful. Deeks would have a field day over her reaction if he were here. She savored each bite, her eyes drifting over to the bouquet several times.

Maybe flowers weren’t the worst thing in the world.

***

April 2013

“Deeks, pay attention,” Kensi snapped, nudging his shoulder, and interrupting his examination of a leather vest.

“I am,” he protested in a low, unconcerned tone, casting a slow, unassuming look around the market they were casing. To anyone watching, it would hopefully look like he was scoping out which stall he’d go to next.

“You know I like to blend in. We’re supposed to look like a couple enjoying an afternoon shopping.” As if to prove his point, he held up a particularly garish pair of high heels. She pushed them away with an amused grimace.

He continued on his way, easily balancing checking out the wares, chatting with the vendors, and keeping an eye on their surroundings. She admired him for a few seconds, lingering on the way he rested one hand on his hip, one leg extended to the side.

Now was not the time for ogling, she reminded herself. They were on the job. And Deeks would never let her live it down if he realized she was checking him out.

Moving on, she paused in front of a sunglasses stall, fiddling with a few random pairs while she watched a man edging his way through the crowd.

“You got something?” Deeks murmured, silently coming up behind her. He looped his arm around her waist, leaning into her side.

“Just a pickpocket,” Kensi replied. “We’ll have to notify the local security once this is over.” She should have found a reason to call pull away, but instead, she let Deeks lead her back into the main road between stalls, her hand resting on his lower back.

“Here.” Deeks held up a flower with a bluish-purple hue. “It’s not a fern, but it’s the best I could do.”

Kensi took it, taking a deep sniff. It had a light, pleasant smell.

“When did you have time to get this?”

“There’s a little stall over there. The lady grows them all herself.”

Kensi shook her head; of course he’d made friends with the flower lady.

“You know, we’re not actually here to buy stuff,” Kensi said.

“It would look weird if we didn’t.” Deeks eyed her briefly, something playful and definitely not professional flashing in his gaze. “Besides, it matches your top.”

A small rush of pleasure that he’d notice ran through her. For a moment, she wished that they weren’t in the middle of a case, and actually on a date. She pushed that thought down, passing the flower under her nose again.

“You know, flowers aren’t so bad after all,” she said told Deeks as they walked arm-in-arm.

***

A/N: I hope this was alright. I know I didn’t cover the whole length of Kensi and Deeks’ relationship, but I was drawn to start early on.

Title take from the Bruno Mars song “When I was Your Man”.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #pre densi #fluff #prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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summerfevers · 22 days

Note

if you’re up to it i would very much like to know your white collar neal timeline🎤🎤

this turned out to have many asides and be very long so the tl;dr is: peter have you considered that he's just a twenty-something teenage girl :( ?

timeline:

neal born 1984 ish. he's an aries and a millennial

neal, ellen, and neal's mom go into witsec 1987, neal age 3

2003 adler scandal i fucking guess. neal age 19

neal arrested probably mid 2005, 21

neal goes to jail for the first time, i want to say early 2006, age almost 22

pilot is set late summer 2009, age 25

same-sex marriage legalized in new york june 24th 2011, they talk about this in season 3 episode 14 which is soon after. neal's 27

more or less a year later–let's go with less–neal tells sam that he has spent the last decade running from the truth he learned at 18. taking him literally that it was 10 years ago he is now 28 it is the end of season 4 and 2012

the end of season 4 to the series finale is less than a year. he is 29 its 2013.

when we see him in paris he might be 30 but that doesn't count To Me

i present my evidence:

i don't know where we got "neal is 35" from i cant make it work. neal and co. went into witsec (which i have actually since learned is not available to people living in dc, they have their own version but it is not overseen by the federal marshalls, i don't think they can give you as many legal documents like a ssn, and they don't help you set up your new life as much? something about neal's life that would be interesting to explore.) when he was three and ellen says in season 4 that she's been in witsec for Nearly three decades. confirmed 33 or under in season 4

he also says to "sam" more than once that he's spent the last decade running from the truth he learned at 18–he very well could be rounding down here and mean like 12-13 years but i am Choosing to Believe he meant that literally. we are now at youngest 28, it is the last episode of season 4.

now due to the way the show is structured and the fact that it is never really winter. ok maybe winter 1 time because i can see in my mind neal in his little wool coat and earmuffs but largely it is summer and we never have a christmas episode. anyway due to All That our only real anchor in the timeline is that the episode where diana is Grappling with her engagement to Christie happens immediately following june 24th 2011, when same-sex marriage was legalized in new york. and also that later that season in the commutation hearing they say that neal has served 2 years of his sentence. so the pilot was set in 2009 when it aired we are at one year/season. but as the series goes on the episodes and even seasons have increasingly shorter gaps between them, and by season 6 we haven't even finished our four years. by the end of season 4 i want to say we are three years into his sentence and he's 28. between the end of season 4 and when neal dies in season 6 there has got to be less than a year that passes. actually deadass why was neal so obsessed with the pink panther case ending his sentence early we are like months out king. i get the injustice the system is broken they'd keep him forever but to people outside his circle he must have looked sooo silly for that. but whatever. he is 29 when he dies and 30 when we see him again in paris, his roaring 20s of crime and incarceration over.

Anyway where the "neal is 35 or at least claims to be much older than this timeline would say he is" probably came from in-universe is that the adler scandal takes place SEVEN years before s2 when peter confronts neal about it. 2003?????? guys the thing we have to understand, to embrace, about neal's personal timeline is that i do not think anyone in that writers room was really grasping how much they had neal do in so short a time. 2003 he is like 19 guys. maybe by the time peter says it was 7 years ago it was 2011 ? and the adler thing was 2004? but no that couldn't work because it's mid 2011 like a year later in s3. so basically neal walks out of st louis and has a magical girl transformation through which he immediately becomes a great conman and criminal. and he meets mozzie basically straight away. he should still be in like calculus and ap lit at this juncture. and then they go right into the adler con ??? and neal is obviously lying through his teeth to everyone saying he is at least 21 but probably more along the lines of 23. and while most of his aliases are eventually found out by peter if no one else, no one ever goes "wait IS HE a teenager?" no one is guessing this.

so we spend a couple months fucking around and fucking UP with adler, kate probably doesn't know how old we actually are, this relationship cannot actually last very long at all because we are truly on a time crunch right now. we have less than three years for neals entire criminal career before he goes to jail. i know i said on the bullet list he went to jail early 2006 he has got to have been arrested like summer 2005 at the latest to be tried and sentenced by then and i feel like even that might be tight because he was suspected of so many other things they wanted to get evidence for. but how is neal teaching kate to be a criminal less than a year into his own career. i think neal must have been a hardcore improv kid for this to work honestly. i bet he competed. so our golden days of mozzie neal and kate against the world lasts maybe a year at best before neal and kate fight and she leaves and he spends months trying to get her back and get her attention and commits a truly breathtaking amount of crimes in this time.

also i'm skipping through forging bonds right now trying to flesh out this timeline and it was incredibly shady of peter and co to see that kate is doing so much to stay hidden from her ex boyfriend and then to reveal her to neal in order to catch him. like that was fucked up they didn't know neal yet he hadn't been suspected of violent crimes but they didn't know why kate was working so hard to escape him. like it worked out ok (arguably, but that could be a different post) but they had no reason to trust neal not to hurt her like this. she could have been running from an abusive situation he's known to be a talented criminal with no fears about escalating his crimes he could have killed her. one thing about the fbi is that they never once care about kate's safety and it does indeed get her killed one day.

in conclusion neal is known as one of the best forgers in the world when he is arrested in 2005 at age 21 maybe 2 years into his criminal career. here i am 21 what have i accomplished

#hiiiiiii LOVE your wc fic explorations of neals childhood are everything To Me and really your characterization of danny brooks is exactly #the kind of child neal would have to be for him to have been essentially a child prodigy at white collar crime #truly hes gotta be canon #also one more thing why is james in that flashback like have a good day at school 🥰 or whatever. neal is 2 or 3 and his mom didnt seem #to work so he didnt have daycare. where tf is he going #anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk future talks will discuss my conflicting opinions on how neal and kates relationship is treated #in canon and how neal was obviously not an early 2000s emo kid but frankly? maybe he should have been. good night #white collar #poplars.txt #just put this throufh a word counter 1200??? sorry.#this post is nearly twice the word count of the assignment i was procrastinating while i wrote it 🧍

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mlobsters · 3 months

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supernatural s13e23 let the good times roll (w. andrew dabb)

well, carry on my wayward son has lost pretty all of its emotional punch that it once had for me back in the early seasons.

the moment we see sam in front of the corkboard and "the ice caps are melting" i felt like i was going to combust. what is this nonsense. our-earth 101 catching them up to speed even though we're just here to regroup and arm up before a showdown with michael? and how long was the apocalypse apocalypsing over there? longer than it would have without the boys to stop it in 2010 or whatever? mortifying. i fast forwarded. i don't need the spn cliffs notes on awful things here too

you want to hear some nonsense? i was sort of looking forward to yesterday's episode. i don't know why. well, it disabused me of that notion right quick.

why are we on some rando werewolf hunt

man mary is beautiful. and sure, she and bobby get umbrellas

MARY So what are you gonna do now? BOBBY Honestly, I got no clue. Everyone seems to be settling in okay in town. Ketch is out doing Ketch things. Rowena and Charlie are road tripping it through the Southwest.

i get that it's for production reasons they're not gonna have the whole cast around but hokay.

BOBBY Anyways...without an archangel, it's not like we can go back home. And I'm not sure I'd want to.

all right then. obviously, shit's gonna happen with lucifer and michael though right. don't have a lot of episodes left (lol) and i know michael gets all up in there at some point

DEAN Hey, you remember...remember when you asked if we could stop it? All the evil in the world? SAM Yeah. DEAN If we could...really change things? Well, maybe with Jack, we can. SAM Maybe you're right. But then what will we do? DEAN Mm. Yeah. This. (Dean holds a beer he has been carrying and Sam looks down at his) A whole lot of this. But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cass, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls. SAM (scoffing) You talking about retiring? You? DEAN If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah. And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man. SAM (holding up his beer) I'll drink to that. DEAN Yeah. Hell, yeah.

being optimistic is surely a sign for everything to turn to absolute shit. is cas gonna wear the trench over the hawaiian shirt? he's awfully commited to that look

tired of myself talking about this show.

DEAN Jack? Hey. Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. You're just having a bad dream. JACK Sorry. DEAN It's okay. You don't have to apologize. I have 'em, too. All the time. JACK You do? DEAN Sure. JACK You, um... What do you see? DEAN Well, depends. Mostly... mostly people I couldn't save.

thanks for saying that i guess, pretty sure he's only gonna talk to someone that's zoned as a kid about it. but without specifics of course

DEAN Jack... it's not about being strong. I mean...Look, I don't know what you saw over there, and I don't know what you went through. I know it was bad. But I also know that you came out the other side because you are strong. But even when we're strong, man, things are gonna happen. We're gonna make mistakes. Nobody's perfect. Right? But we can get better. Every day, we can get better. So whatever you're dealing with, you know, whatever...whatever comes at us, we'll figure out a way to deal with it, together. You're family, kid, and we look after our own.

needed some Quality Dad Bonding time between jack and dean, i guess now that he's not convinced he's gonna go evil and blow up the world. also always slightly amused that jack's actor, alexander calvert, is 27 at this point

didn't take long for lucifer to show up

jack flitting off to basically kill this guy with no proof of wrongdoing, like. it's such a weird character because he's an adult, i think in world he's supposed be i dunno, late teens? and he's got a very childlike view of events. it's like infantilizing except that he is basically a baby with extremely limited life experince so?? i dunno. doesn't really work for me on the regular

in a way i wish pellegrino had a different role so i could like the character he's playing. i want to believe this thing with jack because he's just so good at being sincere and horrible. like, some fucking random play at getting jack on his side is making me cry??? because the idea of starting over and him actually leaving everyone alone is just so... i wish.

MARY Sam, even if we find Lucifer, how we gonna stop him?

did they lose their archangel blade over in au world?

MAGGIE Does it matter? Kinda seems like you have bigger, you know, Satan-y problems. SAM Yeah, but -- but we're -- we're dealing with those. Mostly.

the little muttered "mostly" did get a chuckle out of me

CASTIEL Yeah, angel radio is nothing but static, which is disturbing.

i mean there's only what, 9 angels left anyway lol

laughing at this ridiculous slow float downstairs while they shoot at him, knowing nothing is going to do anything

well. that big reveal of lucifer is actually evil to jack thing, well played by pellegrino as i'd expect. did not expect him flashing out of there with jack and sammy in tow.

DEAN No. What if...what if you had your sword?

well. i wondered what on earth could get dean to say yes.

LUCIFER Wow, Daddy Sammy coming to the rescue. But your little Jackie, the nougat-loving boy that you had before, he's killed people. He's got lots of blood on his hands. SAM (standing) I don't care. He's family.

i mean, so has sam and the rest of their family so?? not exactly a convincing argument :p

DEAN (to Castiel) Lucifer has Sam. He has Jack. Cass, I don't have a choice! DEAN (To Michael) If we do this, it's a one-time deal. I'm in charge. You're the engine, but I'm behind the wheel. Understand?

i'm sure that'll work out fine

mmmk.

convenient that michael and lucifer brought the archangel blades with them so we can have a little showdown

lol reminds me of the matrix training with morpheus fight but cheesier. and we're just gonna have a fist fight in the air. oy

are they actually committing to killing lucifer? his character was more than done but sad to see pellegrino leave, but glad that plotline is over finally

SAM You did it. DEAN No. No, we did it. We did it.

and dean immediately hunches over in pain and it's like s8e23 all over again

and now michael has his special sword vessel and he broke the deal and they can't go killing him while he's wearing dean, right. wonder how long that's gonna drag on in the next season. i haven't seen a lot of gifs of michael!dean so lol i figure it can't be that long??

#supernatural #spnwatch #andrew dabb #spnwhinge #spn 13x23

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fandomtherapy44 · 7 months

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castiel x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Sam and Dean. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Word count: 4,088

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural

I got the divider from

Firefly Graphics

Chapter 10: It’s A Terrible Life

POV: Y/n

My alarm goes off at 6:00 and I get up happily. I go to my kitchen and start to make my breakfast of eggs, bacon, and grapes. I turn on my favorite song.

Oh!

Ohhhh, yeeeh

I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure

And I just can't wait till the day when you knock on my door

Now everytime I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down

'Cause I just can't wait till you write me you're coming around

I'm dancing around the kitchen and having so much that I don’t notice the time. “Crap I'm going to be late.”

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah

I'm walking on sunshine, woooah

And don't it feel good!

I walk in the coffee shop to get my boss's order with a smile on my face. “Hey brain, how's it going?” ” It’s going good Y/n, the regular” “You know it!” I said back to him I got the coffee, and I went on my way to my job.

I enter the building quickly, being five minutes away from being late. I walk calmly over to Mr. Alder’s office and knock on his door. “Come in” I hear from the other side and enter the room. “Good morning Mr. Alder, here is your black coffee with two sugars and two creamers.” I said placing the coffee down. “Aww thanks sweetheart you're the best secretary in the world.” For some reason a small chill went up my spine when he called me sweetheart. “No problem, it is my job, do you need anything else?” “Nah all you need to do is sit there and be pretty I'll call you if I do though.” With that comment I walked back to my desk.

It was lunchtime and I went to the break room to make a sandwich. My work bestie Lyndsey comes up to me. “Ugg, I swear if Mr. Carson makes me do his basic paperwork one more time, I might commit murder.” “Ha ha right.” “Oh, you have nothing to complain about, you have the top secretary spot in the company, and you've only been here for a month.” “I don’t know, all I have to do is just sit there. I get pretty bored to be honest.” “Oh, to be bored, I envy thee. Did you see Mr. Smith this morning so hot right?” She said, biting her lip. “Uh I don’t know.”

“Girl, are you blind whatever, did you have any more dreams about Mr. Businessman.” “You're just going to make fun of me.” “No, totally not.” I sighed looking into my coffee. “This time I was in a carpark, and I was hurt, and I hugged him, and he hugged back.” “Ohh did it go beyond hugging.” She said, raising her eyebrows up and down. “No no it’s nothing like that, it feels like a friendship.” “Ugg boring.” “You said you wouldn't make fun.” “I'm not, it's just my opinion.” Sometimes Lindsey could be a bitch that’s why she’s my work bestie.

I ran towards the elevator and yelled out for whoever was in there to hold it. “Thanks.” “No problem.” Mr. Smith and I think the other guy’s name was Sam. The three of us were just standing listening to the elevator music before Sam asked us a question. “Do I know you two?” Sam asked us. “Um I don’t think so, Sorry.” I responded. “I don't think so.” “I'm sorry, guys, you just look really familiar.” “Save it for the health club, pal.” With that Mr. Smith walked out of the elevator quickly. “Have a good night, Sam.” I told him. “You too?” “Y/n” “Right Y/n goodnight.”

I got home and got ready for bed and thought about Sam’s question. He did kind of look familiar even though I hadn’t really met him before. Oh well with that I went off to sleep.

The next morning I woke up feeling groggy and my head was filled with my dreams from the night before and I think I saw Mr.Smith and I think Sam in them. Which is really weird because I barley known them and what we were doing was hunting monsters so like what the hell?!

I walked down to Lynsey’s office because she was not in the break room for our daily coffee talk. When I go into her space, she is working hard which she never does. “Lyndsey? Lyn? Why don’t you take a break huh?” I go to touch her shoulder, but she does not take that well. “Don’t touch me Y/n! I don’t have time to sit around all day like you!” I was surprised because yeah, we weren't besties 24/7 but we wouldn't seriously insult each other. “Look Lyn I don’t know what’s wrong but whatever it is I can help you.” “No, you can’t! Just leave me alone. I have to work work…” She said drifting off not looking back at me.

I go to heat up my lunch, but the microwave is busted. “Oh, come on.” I went to the tech floor knowing that was the closest microwave to me. The elevator dings and I walk into a huge crowd of people around the break room, the reason being that a body was being rolled out. I look around and see Sam and Dean again.

Now what the hell is happening. As I sit down, I get a call. “Hello, this Mr. Alders-” “This is Mr. Smith I need you in my office now.” He hangs up and I put the phone down. I walk to his office, and I walk in, and Sam is in here too. “Am I in trouble?” I said because so far this is weird. “No no you're not. Just sit down.” Mr. Smith gestured to the chair, and I did. “Ok so this is going sound weird, but do you believe in ghosts?” Mr. Smith asked, and I was expecting a smile after that, but one didn't come. “He he, I'm sorry ghosts, is there a camera somewhere?” “No, unfortunately not Y/n he’s being serious.” Sam said, looking at me.

“Ghosts? What the Hell are you talking about?” “Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something not natural?” “So, what, ghosts are real? And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?” “That’s what Sam and I have concluded, yeah.” “Based on what? Delusion.” I said not believing what I was hearing. “No, Instinct.” “Instinct I think I have the same one.” Now remembering the dreams. “Really?” They both said at the same time.

“Yeah, I've been having these dreams with you guys in it, and we were killing monsters also I saw a businessman.” “Businessman didn’t see him but yes to the ghosts and the monsters.” Sam said. “So, you're telling me that your guy's dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychics’?” “No. I mean, that would be nuts. I'm just saying something weird is definitely going on around here, right? So, I've been digging around a little.”

“Yeah, I agree with him.” I backed Sam up. Sam pulled at some papers. “I think I found a connection between the two guys.” He explained. “You broke into their email accounts?” “Nice Sam” I compilated him. “Thanks Y/n, I used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my curiosity.” “So, it turns out Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, room fourteen forty-four.” “HR's on seven.” “Exactly.” “Should we go check this out?” “Like right now?” “No. No, it's getting late. You're right.” “I am dying to check this out right now.” “Right?” “Me too” I added, and we went on our way to room fourteen four-four.

We walk closer to the room, and we hear a man screaming. Sam kicked the door in, and we rushed in, and the man was under a shelf. We go to try to lift it off as we do. I look behind an old man standing there, and he flings Dean back. He walked to Sam with a sparky hand, and I had the thought to grab a wrench and hit him and he disappeared with that. Dean walks over and we lift the shelf off the man. “How'd you know how to do that?” They asked me. “I have no idea.”

Dean’s apartment was thankfully close. “Holy crap, Guys.” Dean said, referring to what just happened to us. “Yeah. I could use a beer.” Sam said. “Yeah, put me down for one too.” “Oh, sorry, Guys. I'm on the Cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house.” “Hey. How the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?” They ask me. “Crazy, right? And nice job kicking that door too. That was very Jet Li. What are you, like a black belt or something?” “No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like...we've done this before.” “What do you mean, before? Like Shirley MacLaine before?” “No. I—I just can't shake this feeling like I—like I don't belong here. You know? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle.” “I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way.”

“No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I don't know how else to explain it, except that...it feels like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. What about you? You ever feel that way?” “I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though.” “What about you Y/n.”Dean asked me. “I feel the same as I make my own future.” “All right, so, what do we do now?” Sam asked, which was a good question cause what the hell do you do in this situation? “We do what I do best, Sammy, N/n. Research.” “Okay. Did you just call me Sammy?” “And me N/n?” “Did I?” “I think you did. Yeah. Don't.” “Yeah, please don’t” “Sorry.” He goes to sit at his laptop.

“Oh, jackpot.” “What you got?” Sam and I walked over to Dean. “I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters.” “Oh wow, cool!” I said sitting next to Dean. “These guys are genius. Check it out.” “Instructional videos.” Sam pointed out. Dean hits play “We know why you're watching.” These two guys were in lab coats in front of a table. “You've got a problem.” “A ghost problem.” “A ghost-related problem. A ghost—it's like a ghost-adjacent pr—it's like a problem that's—and the ghost is—” “Whatever. You've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it.” “Period.” “Watch and learn.” “See, the first step in any supernatural fight:” “Figure out what you're up against.” Both of them said together.

I went onto the computer and looked up the company’s history. There was a picture of an old man next to the article. “That's him. That's the ghost.” Dean pointed out over my shoulder. “P. T. Sandover. Died 1916. Devoted his life to his work. No wife, no kids.

The article text visible next to the picture reads "Office 1444 was considered to be the center of the company's operations, with Sandover himself overseeing all details of any construction project the company undertook. / Considered to be a difficult person to work for, P.T. Sandover had an exceptionally high standard of quality, often marching onto construction sites and halting all work until he personally inspected each aspect of the structure. Aiming for perfection is perhaps why the Sandover legacy is so impressive, dominating the industry with the scale and scope of its projects.” “Used to say he was the company, and his very blood pumped through the building.” Sam read. “Wow, okay. So slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company, even killing for it.” Dean theorized.

“Plus, turns out this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929.” “Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off lots of high rises that year.” “How many companies had seventeen suicides?” I added in. “Phew. Okay, so P. T. Sandover, protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress.” “Well, I mean, the worst time we've seen since the Great Depression—” “Is now. Yeah, now sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even wanna talk about it.” “So Sandover's helping the bottom line—” “By zapping some model employees.”

“Yeah. I mean, Ian and Paul. It was like he turned them into different people.” “Perfect worker bees, exactly. So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it.” “Oh my gosh Lyndsey was acting like that. Now we abustley have to do this.” “One more interesting fact. The building wasn't always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, fourteen forty-four? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office.” Of course it was.

We went back to the Ghostbusters videos. “Once you've got that thing in your sights—” “You kill it.” Good to know. “Using special ghost-hunting weapons.” “First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts.” “Burny acid.” “Not LSD.” “No. It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron.” “That's why the wrench worked.” I concluded. “Pure power in your hand.” “Dissipates ghosts instantly.” “Next little trick. We learned this from those useless douchebags—” “That we hate.” I wonder who pissed them off so much. “The Winchesters. Well, except for the sister who was nice to us, she was also hot.” “Yeah hot.” He looked off like he was thinking about this woman. “Uhh right back to the ghosts. Gun.” “Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt.” “Very effective.” “Very effective.” “Winchesters still suck ass, though. But the sister.” “Affirmative. Suckage major. But the sister.”

We pack two duffels of iron pokers and salt. “Where do we even get a gun?” Dean questioned. “Gun store?” “Isn't there like some kind of waiting period or something?” “I think so.” “Well, how in the hell—” “I don't know. Seems pretty impossible, honestly.” “Right.” I mean who can just get guns on a whim.

Back to the video. “The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles but the sister also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains.” “Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry.” Eww “It's illegal in some states.” “All states.” “Possibly all states.” I look up where our body is buried. “Sandover was cremated.” “What? So what do we do now?” “Now, if the deceased has been cremated—” “Don't panic.” “Don't panic.” “Just gotta look for some other remains.” “A hair in a locket, maybe. Fingernails. Baby teeth.” “Milk teeth.” “Genetic material. You know what we're talking about.” “Go find it.” “Godspeed.”

I am terrified to go back but Lynsey is under this ghost’s spell I guess, and she needs help so here I am back in this cursed building. We entered the elevator. “Set your cell phone to walkie-talkie in case we get separated.” Dean commented. We go to search in the old man’s office Sam, and I are searching the desk when we get found out by the security officer. “What the hell are you doing here?” He asks us.”Uhh, a new cleaning service.” I responded back trying to not get us arrested. “Yeah right. Come with me.” He grabs the both of us. “Man, listen. Look. It's okay. We- we work here.” Sam tried to explain. “Whatever. Tell it to the cops.” He drags us to the elevator.

We awkwardly stand there when there is a cold spot when the elevator absurdly stops. Sam and I look at each other knowing what was going on. The guard goes to use his emergency key to open the door. “Well, come on.” Something makes an ominous sound. Sam and I are thinking the same thing Hell to the no. “Last time this happened, it took them two hours to get here.”

“Let’s just wait here I think I might have some uno cards on me.” They both look at me like your crazy girl. The guard Shimes through the door and he turns around to us. “Seriously, we’ll wait.” “Look, I don't have the rest of my life.” As he was saying the doors slam shut oh his body. And we get sprayed in blood. “Hey. You guys, okay?” Dean asked through the phone. “We’ll call you back.”

We regroup at the main lobby. “Whoa. That's a lot of blood.” “Yeah, we know” “Right. So, uh, in there.” Dean gestured to the display of P.T. gloves. “P. T. Sandover's gloves.” “Yeah, how much you wanna bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two? Something.” “Sweat.” I added in. “So, you ready?” Sam asks us. “I have no idea.” “Me neither.” “Me too.” The boys hit the glass, but Mr. Old man shows up. All three of us hit him with the iron pickers. “Oh. Nice.” He reappears and he flings the boys back. “Dean! Sam!” P.T. is about spark them. I scramble to get the lighter. “Sorry I'm forcing you into retirement.” I said as I lit up the gloves. And he lights up like a Christmas tree and vanishes. "That was amazing.” “Right? Right?”

Dean hands me the first kit and I'm patching up Sam. “Wow you're really good at Y/n.” “Yeah, I don’t know, I've always been good at it, thanks.” “Man, I gotta tell you, I've never had so much fun in my life.” Dean said sitting next to us. “I feel the same and I thought the bachelor was the craziest thing in my life.” “Was a hell of a workout too, wasn't it?” “Yeah, you can say that again.” “We should keep doing this.” Sam says very seriously. “I know.” Dean replied in a joking way when I was thinking about his words. “I mean it. There gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people.” Sam went on with this. “Right, we'd be like the Ghostfacers.”

“No, really. I mean, for real.” “What? Like, quit our jobs and hit the road?” “Exactly.” “How would we live?” “You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by? With stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?” “That's all just details. What about you Y/n?” Sam asked me. “Uhh I don’t know Sam, this is a good job for me.” “Do you even like your Job I mean all you do is get Mr. Alder coffee! All right. Um. Confession. Remember those dreams I told you about with the ghosts? I was fighting them. With you guys. We were these, like, hunters, and we were friends. More like brothers and sister, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?”

“Sam, that's a little insane.” “Is it? Think about it for just one second. What if we think this is our life, but it's not?” “Hey, man, the ghost is dead and we're still standing. I mean, I'm sorry, but—” Dean started to say. “Look, all I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be.” Sam stood his ground. “No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo.” And when he said that it felt so wrong. “When was the last time you talked to them? To any of them? And you Y/n?” “I don’t really have any family to talk to.” “See that’s what I'm talking about, cause I only moved here cause I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number, and I got a damn animal hospital.” I try to hold my laugh back at that line.

“Okay. What are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on.” Dean was getting irritated at this point. “All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know—I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag and you Y/n are not just some pretty secretary that gets coffee. This isn't you Guys. I know you.” Dean answered. “Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go.” I leave with Sam and stop him. “Look Sam, the girl you're describing sounds incredible but that’s just not me.”

The next morning, I was walking to Mr. Alder’s office with his coffee, and I was thinking about what Sam said last night. “Knock knock Come in.” I heard and I entered. “Here’s… your coffee.” I set it down and went to leave but he stopped me. “Mrs. F/l/n I would like to talk about something, sit down please.” So, I do. “Look I think you're an amazing employee and simply put I want you higher on the food chain.” I was a little bit shocked.

“You want me in a company position? Wow I'm flattered but are you sure?” “Yes, I am so sure that this would be your pay raise.” He writes down a number and slides it to me. My eyes widen like saucers. “That’s a whole lot more than now to keep me here.” “Well, you are worth it now you would have to work for it properly more than others because you are starting from a low level but in like fifteen years maybe ten it you could be it.” I look down at the number and think about it. “Now Mr. Alder I really appreciate it and I am totally thankful, but I will be giving in my notice.” Now he looks shocked.

“Please tell me this is a joke Y/n.” “No Mr. Alder I just realized that sitting in a desk for the rest of my life and getting coffee from other people is not for me. It's hard to explain. Um. It's just that this—this is—it's just—it's not who I'm supposed to be.” Mr. Alder smiles at that. “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n you and your brother are a lot alike.” “My brother? What are you talking about?” He walks over to me and touches my forehead and it was like the air had shifted and everything came flooding back.

“What the fuck? Am I wearing heels god my feet hurt.” Mr. Alder laughs at that. “You- did I—did I just get touched by—you're an angel, aren't you?” He nods. “I'm Zachariah.” “Fantastic. You want me to throw you a parade.” “I'm hardly a simple angel, Y/N. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things” “But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row.” “” Unfortunate situation” he almost killed me.”

“Well, you're not so you should be grateful.” “What the hell does not that even mean?” “It means that you're alive and hunting” “Is that what this little passion project of yours is for?” “Exactly you are a Winchester, hunting is in your blood, and you will help your brother stop the apocalypse.” “I am not just a helper.” “Of course, not but you will always be by your brother’s side, right?” “Yes but-” “perfect then you be on your merry way to your codependent brothers.” I start to walk out but I stop. “Zachariah angel or not I will stab you in the face if you ever call me sweetheart again.” And with that I slam the door behind me.

Hey oh, my gosh we have gotten to chapter ten like wow I just wanted to say thank you for reading and liking when I started, I just did for me and I'm so happy that others have liked this as much as I have! Also did anyone peak the song that Y/n was playing in the beginning. It was a little easter egg for a future character that I am so excited to get to. That Animal hospital joke of Madison gets me every time the angels went off with that one. If you like the originals, I started a Klaus x reader so yeah hope I see you over there see you next time!

#castiel x reader #castiel #castiel x y/n #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #team free will #spnfandom #supernatural #Supernatural Season 4 #castiel x you #Castiel x reader series masterlist #bobby singer #bobby spn #cas spn #cas x reader #cas x y/n #cas masterlist

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mrsmiagreer · 8 months

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i wanna gtk

quinn🥰

SORRY

ahem

i wanna gtk your version of sweetheart

~💋

Hey boo🫶🏽

Alr let’s talk about Sweetheart🩷

Well for starters, Her name is Mia Carter (Huh…I wonder what inspired my user🤷🏽‍♀️)

Her pronouns are she/her.

She’s 5’9 so she’s kinda on the taller side

Her mom is mexiacn and her dad is black, but her dad’s genes are REALL strong

Therefore, her skin’s on the lighter side of black, but she’s still noticeably black

and her hair is thick but her curls loosen a lot when her hair is wet

Dark brown eyes

Slim waist and FAT ASS combo (Born with it but goes to the gym to keep it)

D cup. Not huge but not small either

Has a tramp stamp with a heart in the middle, but Half of the Heart is made of a dotted line to symbolize her ability to turn invisible

Belly piercing. Hates studs, usually gets the ones that dangle

She Became a detective because after her powers manifested, the kids at school would call her criminal, stalker, eavesdropper, creep, etc. She just wanted to prove she could use her powers for good

She also really takes pride in helping people

Is really good at running on a few hours of sleep

Can hide her emotions really well, Also really emotional (It’s a double edged sword)

In.De.Pen.Dent. Can do literally everything on her own (until she met Milo of course)

Favorite color is black. Plain and simple and it goes with everything. Loves an all black look.

Listens to all types of music but looooves R&B and Rap. Loves wordplay a lot

Such a city girl. Can go to sleep to the sound of cars honking and people yelling

Their favorite season is actually Winter (Solstice time😋)

Really likes Romance Novels. She loves love.

Anxiety gets the worst when she thinks she’s upsetting/disappointing the people she loves.

Even though she makes fun of him for it, she loves when Milo big spoons her

Can throw him over her shoulder

Gets SUPER just a little sad when she calls Aggro and he doesn’t come

Loves when Her, Milo, and Aggro can nap together. Loves her little Family

Was super nervous to meet the pack. Even MORE nervous to meet Marie.

Now they’re besties. Mia fucking LOVES MARIE

Can cook. Barely. Knows how to make it taste good, but wouldn’t prefer to cook if she didn’t have to

Called off of work for days after the inversion

Doesn’t like the Fourth of July anymore

David and Mia’s relationship is literally “Don’t enable him” “Got it boss :|”

Asher and Mia are actually not as close as most people think they would be. They get along just fine, they just don’t click like crazy

Mia and Sam = Milo and Darlin. Enough said.

Angel and Sweetheart are good friends. Angel thought it was LITERALLY unreal when they found out she could turn invisible and walk through walls. All of their conversations are like shower thoughts. “Have you ever thought about going intangible and putting your hand through a person and then turning back solid?” “Actually yeah I have it sounds dope as hell honestly”

Baaabe and Sweetheart are cool friends too. They’re around the same height and they’re both workaholics, so they bond over small things. “Hey girl! Since the boys have a late shift tonight, wanna get dinner with me?” “Hell yeah, what should I dress like?”

Funny enough, although Milo and Darlin are besties, Sweetheart and Darlin are BESTIES. Literally twin flames, they hang out the most out of all the pack members and mates. Always mocking their mans’ accents, loves thrill and horror, same sense of humor, impulsive, if one gets in a fight, the other will be there in less than 10 minutes. Darlin’ threatens to steal her from Milo all the time. “If Mia does it I’ll do it” “Fuck it let’s go right now”

Honorable mention…Mia and Christian actually get along. He thinks she’s funny, and he definitely knows how not to overstep because he’s actually smart and knows that she’s not to be fucked with. Especially not about Milo. She was pretty sad when she found out that him and Amanda broke up, she liked seeing him happy.

A/N: I’m SO SORRY this took forever honestly it’s been in my drafts for a good long while. But here it is, i’ve finished it😭 Its also really long so i hope it was at least enjoyable

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted shaw pack #redacted sweetheart #mia’s inbox :)

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spaceorphan18 · 1 year

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What is your opinion about the newbies and why they didn't work? Once I read a comment hey didn't work, because they didn't have plots with Rachel and Kurt. I'm not sure how it suppose to work, they were in different states, but I found this opinion interesting.

This is an interesting question and has a somewhat complex answer!

Let's break it down...

So, first, I've heard that people who've come to the show post-it airing don't seem to have as much of an issue with the newbies as the people who originally watched it. I mean, I haven't taken a poll in a while (BECAUSE I CAN'T) but I think the animosity towards the newbies has a few layers to it.

1. Let's look at what was going on with the rest of the show at the time. First of all, you've majorly reduced the screen time and/or have let go some of your old favorites. Puck, Quinn, Mercedes, and Mike are essentially /not/ on the show anymore. Santana doesn't really come back until half way through the season. Finn doesn't show up until episode four. And even Kurt's time has been reduced.

So -- we're going into the fourth season of the show and it feels like you've replaced half the cast.

2. The old casts' story lines are revolving around the break ups of all the major ships. So now there's new people we don't know taking up space, and all of our favorites lives are miserable.

2.B In addition -- the cast was already too big in Season 3, the fact that they've added more people just feels like a lot and so unnecessary. The should have trimmed the cast and let it stay trim -- but that damn 12 person per glee club rule...

3. The new cast is intentionally mirroring the characters we already know and care about. Marley = Rachel. Jake = Puck. Kitty = Quinn. Ryder = Finn. Unique = Mercedes/Kurt. (And later Bree = Santana.) Yes, I do think the new cast kind of grew into their own about half way through the fourth season, but recreating the molds of the original characters felt like the old characters we already loved were being replaced.

4. The new casts' story lines were terrible. They're already trying to shove Jake/Marley down our throats the minute they start interacting. It quickly turns into a love triangle that will drag on and on and on.... And then there's Marley's eating disorder story that was /terrible/.

5. And... yes, then there's the fact that they're mostly isolated from the old cast. They didn't need to be involved with Rachel and Kurt (who... should have been on a different show entirely, but that's a whole other thing). But they should have been more involved with Sam, Blaine, Brittany, Tina and Artie. In fact -- The five seniors should have had the focused story lines, and the new kids should have folded into theirs. There was barely any integration and by the time they started to fix this issue, it kind of felt like too little too late.

****

In contrast, look at how they handled the Season 6 newbies (which, imo, were better). Each of those characters were vastly different than anyone who came before them. And they were there to service Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine's stories. (Technically - the season 4 newbies were there to service Finn's, but not to the same extent.) The Season 6 newbies (with the exception of their one episode) did not over power the original casts' story lines -- they were integrated into them, and were mostly used for comic relief. If they had handled the Season 4 newbies the same way - the push back might not have been so hard.

And look - there are people (and ever were people back then) who like the Season 4 newbies. I think most of them have grown on me over the years. I enjoy Marley and Unique's friendship. Once Kitty gets out of the mean girl phase, I like her, too. And even Jake isn't that bad. (Ryder, I just can't even with him though, and the whole love triangle was so drawn out and boring...)

So, yeah. It's a thing where you can't just point to one issue and claim that was the reason. It was a mix of just an incredible mishandling of the beginning of Season 4. :P

#that's how s.o. sees it

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samcybercat · 1 year

Text

Supernatural Characters That I Liked :D

On 2nd April 2023, we finished watching all 15 seasons of Supernatural. My history with this show is that I didn't really know it was a thing while it was popular and then by the time I joined Tumblr it was "that series people on Tumblr like that I don't think would be for me". Up until late 2021, the only things from Supernatural that I'd seen were the Destiel Confession (TM), a short scene of Dean telling Sam & Jack that Castiel was dead and the montage of Sam dying from the final episode. Beyond that, I genuinely knew nothing about the show But in 2021 (I think?) my housemates and I had finished BBC Merlin and were looking for a new long series to try, which ended up being Supernatural. Our set-up was that Gemba had seen up to Season 12 (and thus had to endure us asking many questions about it), but Amber and I had never seen any of it Now, no one needs me to review Supernatural. Enough other people who know more about it than I do have done that. But it's been a long ride and I wanted to do something to celebrate it. So instead of picking apart the good and the bad, I thought I'd simply make a list of the characters I like. This is not an all-inclusive list, as in over 15 seasons there are bound to be a few fun one-off characters who I'll forget. But I tried to include as many characters as possible Starting off with my beloved - everyone's favourite Supernatural character whose name begins with the letter C...

...Crowley! (Don't worry, Castiel is also on the list lol)

I cannot understate how much Crowley kept me going with this show. We'd just come off the back of the Trickster dying and I was bummed about that, but then Crowley came along with all his yelling and his bisexual villainy and I was won over immediately. Everything about Mark Sheppard's performance was a delight and all his interactions with the rest of the main cast were so fun. When Crowley ended up on the path from enemy to frenemy to begrudging ally, it never felt like character-derailment at all. Though having said that, I also fully understand and respect Sheppard's choice to leave because he was disappointed with how Crowley was being written - as much as it was a big miss for me to see Crowley go. Crowley is my blorbo for this show He is also incredibly shippable with Sam

Next up is Sam, Mr. Skrunkly Himself and the greatest shipping bicycle I could ask for Now, some of you who I have talked to about Supernatural might remember me saying that I didn't like Sam, which certainly was true in the earlier seasons. I just feel like in the beginning, Sam's stick-in-the-mud attitude needed a bit longer to bake until he became the absolutely endearing, doe-eyed giant that he would become later on. I also think that Sam becoming a better character ended up lining up quite well with Dean becoming... less of a characters that I could enjoy, so that worked out nicely. I'm sorry that I was a non-believer to start with, Sammy, but I'm 100% a Sam Girl now lol

You're on tumblr, you know who this is I now definitely understand why this website was so obsessed with Castiel. What could've easily been a throw-away character was turned into a series main-stay and I'm sure that a large part of that was due to the clear love that Misha Collins had for the character and poured into his performance. Every time Castiel was around it was always great and, like a lot of people, my biggest problem with Castiel was that they didn't use him enough. They (probably accidentally) wrote one of the best autistic characters I've seen in a while and also, his Dadstiel scenes with Claire and Jack are one of the few times I've really enjoyed seeing a character take on the role of a parent Castiel is also incredibly shippable with Sam (sorry Destiel shippers, I'm Sastiel through and through)

Queen of my heart, Rowena! The treatment of female characters in Supernatural is another topic with not a great reputation, but you've got to believe me when I say that Rowena is a brilliant character, one of the best and most-fun female villains. When she was introduced as Crowley's mum, I knew we were in for a great ride and, sure enough, every episode she was in was charming. Ruth Connell really ran with the concept of "vengeful Scottish witch". My fears for Rowena had been that she would be killed off shortly after Crowley's departure, but I was delighted to see that she continued to be a main-stay for most of the show, ending with her destined death scene with Sam, before being triumphantly crowned Queen of Hell Rowena is also incredibly shippable with Sam, though I've also gotta give a shout-out to my short-lived OTP of Rowena x Gabriel

Speaking of Gabriel, the Trickster was definitely what kept me watching at the start of the series. In the beginning, Supernatural was a bit dry for my taste and he injected that shot of fun into it that it needed to keep me interested. His episodes were few and far between, but just knowing there might be a Trickster episode on the horizon always kept me going until Crowley came along to take the mantle from him. I was glad to see Gabriel return later on, even if I feel like they didn't really use him or play to his strengths quite as much as they did in the early episodes The Trickster is also incredibly shippable with Sam

The best baby boy, Jack! On paper, the concept of Lucifer's son joining the team felt like a desperate attempt by the writers to show a new, younger audience that they were still hip and relevant, but that ended up not being the case. From the moment Jack appeared, he was wonderful, bringing the same energy as Castiel, but with that child-like optimism attached that would lead to him ultimately saving the day and making a better world for everyone. Seeing the trio raising a son was also brilliant and actually the perfect kind of fanfic-fodder the show needed. My biggest regret for Jack is that he came along after most people stopped caring about the show, so he didn't receive the appreciation I think he deserved

I actually feel bad that it's taken me so long to get to Bobby, as he's one of my big faves, but in my defence he wasn't in the later seasons very much. Bobby went from being "Guy who tells the brothers where the monster of the week is" to the actual perfect father-figure they deserved. There was a reason why when Dean gets to heaven it was Bobby waiting for him and not John, and it wasn't just because getting Neegan back was probably expensive. Bobby is another underrated autistic icon imo and excellent boyfriend-material for Crowley. Even though I was sad when his time on the show was cut short, he was one of the few characters who I felt was given the right amount of fanfare for his send-off

Ketch! I love Ketch! He's our fave in this house. After the very dull Darkness season, I had my hopes low and was rolling my eyes when the British Men of Letters were introduced, but then they ended up being so cringe that it cycled back around to being funny again. We would cheer every time Ketch appeared

Yes, I like Bela and think she was fun in her appearances, you're all just mean about her :(

This version of Meg specifically was wonderful and top-tier shippable with Castiel. It's no wonder that she was the one they called back to play The Empty all those years later. Meg's flirty banter was the perfect foil for Castiel's serious cluelessness and I would always look forward to scenes with both of them

I'm gonna be real with you: most of the season-long villains were very hit or miss for me, but Zachariah was one villain who I thought was excellent. It's a shame he was so early on, so I don't remember too much about his specifically, but I do remember enjoying him and how powerful he made the angels feel

Pamela or, as she was known in our house for a long time, The Woman Who Was Fine About Everything. When Pamela first appears she's like "Two brother? Awesome, let's have a threesome!" ...Then she gets her eyes blasted out. When we next see her, Pamela is totally cool with being blind and is even using it to help her work. ...Then she gets killed off. But when we next see her in the afterlife, wouldn't you know it, she's totally cool with being dead. Even when she later appears as a figment of Dean's imagination, she's fine with that, too. So here's to you, Pamela. Wherever you are, I know you're totally cool with it!

Kevin Tran and his mum. These two characters are the absolute example of deserving much better from the writing, especially Kevin. At least his mum got some cool scenes when she tried to rescue him, but poor Kevin was basically the Wincester's hostage who then died to give Dean more man pain. Which is a shame, because Kevin was great and I really wish we'd been given more fun scenes with him

Hannah (Agent Stone version) ...Look, it's Lee Majdoub, the guy who plays Agent Stone in the Sonic Movies! Turns out he had a brief role in Supernatural as one of Hannah's vessels. I wish he'd stuck around, but as a big Sonic fan I'm glad he moved onto other things :')

Claire Novak - I never expected the kid from Castiel's vessel's old life to come back as a full character later on, but Claire filled the role of the vengeful daughter who grew to respect Castiel so well and I definitely wish we'd seen more of both Claire and her short-lived relationship with Kaia. I also had the exact same Grumpy Cat plushie that Castiel gave to Claire, so I was very endeared by that

Both the original Death and Billie who came after him were excellent! Both very different and strong personalities who filled every scene they were in - when these two appeared, you really knew Dean had to sit up and pay attention, because shit was about to get real

Another one of my top faves, Eileen! Imagine my surprise when Supernatural of all series introduces one of the very few portrayals of a deaf character I've seen and she ends up becoming a recurring character and love interest to one of the main characters. Eileen was annoyingly killed off-screen, but then they made up for it by having Sam go to such lengths to bring her back. She had an adorable relationship with Sam. ...Then they killed her off again and left us to only assume that she must've been returned to life by Jack, but never actually showed that. Oh well, I will choose to believe that the blurry woman they showed with Sam in his montage in the last episode was Eileen and they got the happy ending they deserved

Rufus went from having a somewhat subdued first appearance to being Bobby's partner in crime and that was when he really shined. Another character who was killed off far too early, wasting his potential, but I enjoyed the few Bobby & Rufus episodes that we did get

Garth was just a nice guy and I wanted good things for him. After his short, but successful, role as The New Bobby, I'm glad that Garth was able to retire and live with his werewolf family without becoming yet another victim of characters dying by association with the Winchesters

Becky went from being a very fun nod-to-the-fandom character to having that... one very uncomfortable episode with Sam... to disappearing for a long time and finally coming back to be shown living her best life with her family and thriving. Screw Chuck for killing her off, but I choose to believe that she came back

Crowley having a son who was brought to modern day from ye olde Scotland and then let loose into a park somewhere will never not be funny to me. I liked Gavin for the few episodes he was in

...And I'm bored of looking for screenshots now, so I'll cap this off by also giving a shout-out to fan-fave, Charlie, who they once again killed off before they should've done but at least had some good episodes, Balthazar, who was the idea friend for Castiel and gave me big Dionysus Hades Game vibes, Metatron, who really grew on my from his initial introduction as villain to reluctant frenemy, and to Chuck, who was a character who really annoyed me for most of the series, but then once they started playing him as a straight up villain it felt like he was the perfect way to sing the series out. Amara also got a lot better in later seasons from her unfortunate first appearance and it was a shame about her hand-wave ending I have mixed feelings about Dean. Goodnight

#Supernatural #spn crowley #Sam Winchester #Castiel #Rowena Macleod #not gonna tag anyone else #these also aren't in order of faves btw #just what i'd remember as i was writing

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