folded up jeans

Movie Night

Summary: It’s movie night for Dean and Cas…

Square Filled:  Destiel

Pairing: Dean x Cas

Word Count: 1,300ish

Rating: explicit (smut (grace kink), language)

A/N: Written/created for @spnkinkbingo

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Tripping Over the Blue Line (21/45)

It’s a transition. That’s what Emma’s calling it. She’s transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she’s definitely not worried. Nope. She’s fine. Really. She’s promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She’s fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She’s got a job to do. And she doesn’t care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He’s done. One more season and he’s a free agent and he’s out. It’s win or nothing for Killian. He’s going to win a Stanley Cup and then he’s going to stop being the face of the franchise and he’s going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won’t be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That’s the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn’t going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

Rating: Mature
Content Warnings: Swearing, eventual hockey-type violence
AN: Merry Christmas, the Vankalds are here! And sticking around all week. And sassing Killian the whole time and making Emma feel welcome and eating bread pudding. I am a broken record of constant thankfulness because you guys are fantastic. As are @laurnorder, @distant-rose & @beautiful-swan
Also living on Ao3, and tag’ed up on Tumblr

“It’s one night, Swan. You’ve brought four different shirts.”

Emma muttered something decidedly un-holiday under her breath, focusing her attention on folding up another pair of jeans instead of staring at the smirk she was certain was on his face – her boyfriend’s face.

She had a boyfriend.

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We Meet Again Pt. 2

Over You

(Continuation of: )

A/N: Wrote this awhile ago but never posted it. Enjoy the drama that is about to unfold my loves :) Requests are now open. xx 

Something about today just made me feel different. Or maybe I’ve felt this way for a while now. Whatever it was, I liked it. I felt in control. I felt like I was me again. Nothing could change that. Not even Jack Gilinsky.

It’s been over a year since we broke up and since I caught him cheating on me with Madison. I cringe at the image of them together in our bed. But this whole experience made me realize that he was holding me back. I spent so much time worrying about what Jack wants or what Jack needs. When I should have been worried about what I wanted and what I needed. And what I needed back then was to get as far away from him as possible. And what I want right now is for that to stay that way for a long time.

We haven’t spoken since that day. Well, that’s not true. The last time I spoke to him was when I went over to our apartment with Sammy to get all of my things. It wasn’t the kind of conversation he wanted I know that for sure. It was more of “here’s what I’m taking and here’s what you can keep.” Then handing him a list and emphasizing that he should be happy to be keeping our California King sized bed. I still remember Sammy trying his best not to laugh at Jack’s dumbfounded expression. Sammy’s laugh reassured me that I was going to be okay. And I was. He was a big part of helping me get over Jack.  

Well after some awkward exchanges and Jack begging me to stay, I managed to get all of my stuff back. And that was the last time I ever saw him. Sammy sees him all the time, but that’s because they’re childhood friends. I did ask Sammy to not share any information about my whereabouts with him. After all, he didn’t deserve to know at least that.

I started living with Sammy at his request because he felt like I would distance myself from him because of the fact that him and Jack were still friends. To be honest, I’m glad he convinced me to stay with him because I would have left everyone behind in search of a new beginning. But Sammy still made that possible. It did not take long for me to forget about Jack.

The only way I could let go of what happened was if I forgave him. And I did. I realized that I was more hurt over the fact that he chose someone else over me. I figured it was a girl thing. When a guy cheats on you, you start wondering about yourself and what made him come to this point. And what was the reason that made him cheat on you in the first place. Was it your hair? Your eyes? Did I not have big breasts? Was my butt not big enough? Was it my smile?

Then I remembered that I was questioning myself over a guy. I wasn’t created to be that “girl” that he wanted. I was created to be the girl I wanted. The girl I was comfortable with. The girl that made me happy; someone independent and intelligent. I was perfect for me. And just like that I was over him.

Everything exciting happened when I started dating Sammy.

We started going on dates way before we actually started calling them that. Everyone assumed we were together because we lived together. And eventually it just became that way. I found out Sammy liked me from his best friend Anastasia. She spilled everything to me much to Sammy’s dismay. But I fell for him the moment I noticed all the little things. He went out of his way for me. Sort of what I did for Jack, only difference is that I would go out of my way for Sammy. And then everything fell into place.

Living together became a sleepover every day. We would go out to eat or stay in and cook. Movie nights or movie days. He’d even come to work with me on his day offs and my best friend Lindsey and I loved having him with us. He definitely had a sense of fashion once he got over his bleached hair and helped us a lot when it came to putting together blog ideas. But he was just full of joy, he lit up every room he walked in. And I finally felt like I was somewhere good.

“Hey babe, Lindsey called. She said she tried to get a hold of you for ten minutes now. Where’s your phone?” Sammy yelled from outside of our room.

“What? I can barely hear you,” I yelled back from the closet.

He followed the trail of my voice and found me sitting on the floor. “Lindsey’s been calling you, where’s your phone?” He repeated, chuckling at me on the floor doing my makeup. “Why are you on the floor? You do have a chair for a reason.”

Since Sammy and I started dating, we decided to get a house. The apartment will forever be missed but it was time to expand and he was someone I was willing to do it with. The closet I was currently in was a walk in closet, which was why there was always yelling in this house. It had to be my dream home. Black and White everything with some pink here and there in the closet and everything that was mine. Sammy on the other hand chose blue for his things. It was the most agreeable and cutest décor I’ve ever seen.

“I was plucking my eyebrows because there were one or two hairs that grew back and I couldn’t see sitting down on the chair. So I sat here and ended up getting lazy,” I lost my train of thought as I finished my eyeliner and moved on to mascara.

“So you stayed on the floor? What am I going to do with you?” He laughed and reached over to the vanity grabbing the phone.

“I didn’t hear it ring,” I looked up at him innocently. But I lied. If I pretended I didn’t hear my phone, then that would buy me extra time.

Lindsey and I were having our typical girls’ night or day because it was around lunchtime. We never planned anything on these little adventures of ours, only to get dressed and then find somewhere random that we’ve never been to and go eat there. Then we’d do whatever we wanted after that. I mean you’re never too young or old to explore and L.A. was the place to do it.

I always thought that’s what made us different from everyone else. We were still the biggest kids at heart. And it was the biggest kids who had the biggest hearts.

“Of course you didn’t,” he said sarcastically. “Hey it’s going to be kind of windy out tonight, there might be a storm. I told Lindsey to make sure you guys don’t get too wild tonight.” He sat behind me and watched me do my makeup in the mirror.

“Thanks babe,” I managed to say with my mouth open as I finished my mascara. I heard Sammy laughing behind me. “I try my best not to make the face okay.” Sammy continued to laugh. He didn’t understand how there was always the mouth gaping expression girls made when doing their mascara. As much as you try to hide it from your boyfriend, you find yourself doing it. I mean this might be the only way your mascara comes out perfectly.

“What are you wearing tonight babe?” Sammy wrapped his arms around my waist behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder, watching as I put on lipstick.

“Probably the new top I bought which would be perfect for this weather.” I pointed at the black long sleeve that covered my chest but exposed a good portion of my back.

“You’re going to look so cute,” his sound was muffled as he dug his face into my shoulder and I let out a small laugh at how he was trying to distract me. “Y/N some of the boys are coming over later. Nate said he’s going to come over in a bit because Lindsey is going to be with you,” he whispered.

“Just please make sure Nate doesn’t get drunk again and start making out with the furniture. He used my favorite lipstick!” I exclaimed. That was a night I’ll never forget. Nate tried to convince me that it was definitely his color, but it wasn’t and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. When you had a few glasses of wine and it’s 2 am, everything just seems funnier even when it’s not. Like Nate wearing my lipstick and getting it all over the pillows. That was the best night ever. He still denies it. And that was just last week.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into your makeup,” Sammy giggled.

“How did he even know where to look?” I laughed with him.

“Honestly, I don’t know and I don’t want to know.”

I got up only to see Sammy still holding onto me like a little kid. I tried shaking him off but it only made him hold on tighter. RING


“Sammy go get the door! I’m not dressed! And if it’s Lindsey say I’m like down the street or something, she’s going to kill me if I’m not done!” I ran to the chair grabbing the black long sleeved.

“No fair. I was waiting for you to get changed! I’m not going until you change,” he winked at me.


“Sammy! GO!” I yelled at him to go.

“Come here,” he pulled me in for a quick kiss. His lips were always warm and welcoming, even if it was just for a second. And he always tasted like strawberries. I grabbed him again as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I held his face pushing myself on him.


He pulled away giving me a quick peck on my forehead as the doorbell interrupted us. I laughed noticing he was smothered in lipstick.

I quickly took off my robe and put on the long sleeved shirt. Then grabbed a pair of light washed ripped skinny jeans and put them on worrying about if Lindsey would come upstairs and throw a fit because I wasn’t done. Or maybe it was Nate. I prayed that it was Nate.

I grabbed a pair of black heels and sat down on the chair of my vanity to hook them up. I folded my jeans satisfied with how cute everything looked. I wiped off the lipstick and reapplied to look a bit more put together and not like I just made out with my boyfriend. I imagined Nate or Linds laughing when they saw him. But he would be too clueless to realize. I opted for a matte red instead of my usual pink. It suited my olive skin tone, but so did the red. I grabbed a diamond choker and quickly hooked the back of it. I put some diamond studs on and took my curlers out, spraying some hairspray. Standing in front of the mirror, my outfit was perfect.

All that was left was to run downstairs and hope that Lindsey did not try to kill me.


           “Y/N! Lindsey keeps texting me for you to hurry up!” Sammy yelled from downstairs.

“Calm down I’m finished,” I made my way down the stairs then quickly opening my purse and throwing my lipstick in. Looking up, my eyes met with a familiar pair of dark brown eyes.

“Y/N,” he said almost breathless, but so was I.

“Jack,” I managed to let his name escape my mouth.

Good Enough (14)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eightpart nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; part fourteen; part fifteen; part sixteen; part seventeen; part eighteen; part nineteen; part twenty; part twenty one; part twenty two; part twenty three; part twenty four; epilogue.

bonus scenes: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

“Sehun, can I ask you a question?”

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Monsta X AU part 2

          word count 3200-ish

          authors note: this was a dream i had and it was originally going to be a one shot but i got carried away. i kinda based the aesthetic on their music video All In. that’s the look i’m picturing in my brain anyways.

         summary: you and Minhyuk were all each other had when your family had been killed in a war. you and him had to survive, while trying to keep your old family home from literally falling apart. not to mention, how much longer could you suppress your feeling for him?

part 1  part 3  part 4

The next morning, Minhyuk woke you up early as the sun poked through the curtains.

“Morning” you rolled over and greeted him sleepily as he quickly stood and grabbed his clothes to change into from the day before.

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babydoll [eren/jean]

ok so i saw this piece of art by hanaji-ga-eren and also this headcanon and i wanted to cry because i have suCH a weakness for pet names ok. so here’s a dumb lil fic i wrote for it i hope it’s okay omfg ur art is my fav okay ily xoxo

It takes a lot to ruffle Eren, get under his skin, fluster him and such. He’s blunt. He’s brash. He’s the most straightforward, unashamed person Jean has ever met.

Not many things can embarrass him. Hell, the kid walks around their apartment completely in the nude sometimes, eating a bowl of cereal while Jean flounders around getting ready for work. When Eren wants something, he’ll go and get it. That’s how he managed to get Jean, to be honest. Jean would’ve never in a million years asked Eren out because Eren is ….well, Eren. Jean never thought that maybe, Eren can have crushes too. He always just seemed like this complete ethereal, untouchable being. Off-limits to shitty starving artists who work data entry on the side like Jean.

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New Girl, Chapter Four

Hey hey! Chapter four of my New Girl AU, which makes this the longest running story yet! And I think there’s more to come. 

One warning: This had Newt suicide attempt in it. It’s a different font, so skipping over it will be easy, but make sure not to read it if that’s a trigger! Keep yourself safe my lovelies. 

For one, two, and three, look here, here, and here. (: 

You awoke to the steady sound of a hospital monitor. As you slowly opened your eyes, you saw the white hospital room, the white hospital band around your wrist, and the silver hospital needle taped into your arm.

“Y/n?” you looked to the right, where your Mom stood holding folded up jeans and a long sleeve sweater shirt. “I was just dropping these off.” your hair was down, your makeup gone, and you were wearing a hospital gown. 

“Mom? What happened?” you asked. Your Mom looked nervous for just a second.

“Oh sweetie, you passed out at the party! Newt-”

“No.” you interrupted. “No, that’s not what happened. There’s more… I can’t remember… Mom, why won’t you tell me?” she set your clothes down on the bed.

“You’re allowed to change, but not to leave. You have to stay at least one night. I’ll try to come in the morning.”

“Mom! What happened? What’s going on?” your mom faced you one more time from the doorway.

“You’re repeating your actions.” she hissed. “After all the steps I took, your own still led you to that boy. To Newt.” she spat out your friend’s name. Then she left. Just… left.

A few seconds later, once you had numbly dressed yourself, Newt walked in after faintly knocking. You leaned back on the bed as he walked in and sat down close to you.

“Hey love.” Newt said slowly. “How are you feeling?”

“I…” you began. “I feel lied to. What is going on Newt?” Newt sighed, pushing a newspaper toward your leg. “What?” Newt shook his head.

“Just look, okay?” Newt seemed to have to force the words out. Gradually, you let your eyes fall to the page.


You clutched something, and you looked down to discover it was Newt’s hand.

Y/n, a student who just moved, saved Newt Issacs, a returning student at WICKED high school. Without any encounters previously, y/n ran over a mile through the maze-like structure of eight flights of stairs in less then two minutes. The cameras used to keep an eye on the students picked up the following conversation as Issacs was hanging over the edge of the wall:

“Please, please, let me help you up”

“No. I can’t… I can’t be here anymore”

“Issacs, right? Newt Issacs, you are so important. Have you ever thought about the odds of being born? As a whole, they’re huge. Of course people will be born, no question. None. But the that you will be born? They’re so specific Newt. You parents had be born, and they had to meet at the right time, at the right place. None of that movie crap where someone spills coffee down the front of the others shirt, no. Real stuff, where the people really see each other. So many different parts and atoms came together to create you. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but after all that, don’t you think you’re here for a reason? Don’t you think you’re special? Maybe you’re the fastest person here, maybe you’re the first one to be immune to a disease. Maybe you’re just here to help other people be happy. But you have to think of yourself Newt. Against all odds, the delicate order of the universe, you’re here. There must be a reason. You’re special Newt. And if no one really is here for you, I will be. I already am.”

Sadly, y/n suffered a hit to the head, falling down a flight of stairs after pulling Issacs up, his weight finally proving to much for her. As she was rushed to the hospital in the school, she was admitted, with Ava Paige saying “She was of one of the groups.” The only way to save her was to erase her memory of the scene, and y/n will be starting at WICKED high next month, unknowingly for the second time.

You stared blankly at the page for a couple seconds, then broke down. You didn’t make a sound, tears just streamed down your face, each one felt like a shard of glass.

“Oh love.” Newt eased himself onto the bed and wrapped his arms around you, holding you. You weren’t bitter, no, not with him. You understood why he didn’t say anything. At one point, Newt’s fingers brushed your chin.

And then you were kissing. Salty tears, because Newt, you realized, was crying too.

We Found Wonderland, You And I Got Lost In It | Sink and Nick

Nicholas sighed, wiping the layer of sweat that was forming on his forehead. He had been shooting arrows the whole afternoon, and was now starting to feel the soreness coming to his arms. He paused, and listened. The sound of running water was a positive promise of refreshment. He picked hit arrows up, after pulling them from the tree he had been using as target practice, and headed towards the source of the sound. Eventually, he found the lake, and smiled to himself. Alone in the woods, only him and his bow, he had no need to put barriers up, so he took his jacket and shirt off, revealing his tattoos and scars, and threw his boots to the side. He folded his jeans up, and headed towards the water, keeping the bow at an arms distance, as he let his feet sink in the water, sitting on the edge of the lake. He leaned forward, his hands forming a bowl shape, and tossed some water onto his face. Nicholas’s senses were still alert enough, for him to feel he was being watched. He narrowed his eyes, watching the trees to see if there was anyone there.

Off to Gotham

“Leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again.” Krysta sang as she folded up the jeans and put them in the suitcase.

“Tuesday I believe.” Carla laughed from her spot on the other side of the suitcase, leaning against the wall behind the bed.

“Carla the Literal.” Krysta giggled.

“I prefer Carla the beautiful. And people to not abuse the term literally.”

“I am literally going to die if I miss my flight.”

“Krysta…” Carla growled and both women giggled as Krysta finished packing and zipped up her suit case. “I know it’s not for long but we’re going to miss you being around the house.”

“Aww, Carla.” Krysta moved and embraced Carla. 

“Wendy’s sorry she’s not here to say goodbye.”

“Aww, it’s okay, I mean it’s only a few days.” Krysta said and smiled, her smile growing as she heard a knock at the front door. “That’ll be Calvin." 

Krysta blushed, she was so nervous about going away, not just because they were going to meet Batgirl and others, but because she was going away with Calvin. They were going to be staying together at his sister’s…sharing a room. They really hadn’t shared a room beyond hospital ones so much. So she was nervous and giddy. 

Krysta ran out to the door and opened it. "Hey, hi…” Krysta grinned at Calvin standing on the doorstep, her whole face lighting up. “I just finished packing. 

Light blue long sleeved button-down shirt, sleeves partially folded up. Skinny jeans, tucked into knee-high riding-style boots. Light makeup, hair plaited into a french braid. This was good enough, right? Erika scrutinized herself heavily in her full-length mirror, no longer paying attention to the music playing in the background. These jeans, they clung to her hips and thighs, making them look bigger. 

She huffed quietly at herself, a little frustrated over the scrutiny she was putting herself under. She was good enough, right? There had to be some reason for Lise to ask her out. Erika fiddled with a rose gold colored watch, struggling to put it on herself. She was terribly nervous still. And goodness, how she wanted to talk to her parents about this, but she was afraid of how they would react!

She checked the time for the hundredth time. More than an hour remained until the time Lise was supposed to come by and get her. She spent several more moments looking herself over in the mirror, searching for mistakes, anything out of place; then busied herself with mindlessly petting a needy Winnie.


anonymous asked:

lol the lottie anon sent a message about rings a while ago didn't they? about the secret compartment where her brother kept his? well now his boyfriend has his own place to hide his engagement ring.. maybe it was a hint ;)

she did! She said her brother keeps his ring in the folded up hem of his jeans in a secret compartment he gets sewn in…funnily enough there was another anon the other day who said his boyfriend goes crazy sewing things.


In Good Hands

Summary: Based off of this OTP Prompt -  Person A is going through a rough time and gets drunk at a bar, which ends in them getting caught up in a fight and getting hurt. Person B (who is either the barkeeper or a stranger) saves person A from further injuries, nurses them up and lets them sleep at their place. What happens the next morning is up to you.

Pairing: Dean x Reader | Dean x Lisa

Word Count: 2,031

A/N: This is basically like my first reader insert. I’ve written a few drabbles before, but this was obviously much longer and hopefully you guys like it :)! 

It’d been almost a year since he lost his brother. It’d been almost a year since he moved in with Lisa and Ben. He promised Sam he would do it; it was practically his dying wish. But adjusting to this life hadn’t been easy. Every night he’d close his eyes and images of Sam jumping into the pit would haunt his dreams; and every morning he’d open his eyes hoping it was just a horrible nightmare. He quickly would come to realize his nightmares were his reality. With an arm draped over him, the dark-haired woman slept soundly next to him.

He would always take a few minutes in the morning to rethink his choice in leaving the hunter life. He loved Lisa and Ben. They had opened their home to him with open arms, even with all his emotional trauma and baggage; Dean had been accepted into their family, into their life. He’d taken the role of the husband figure for Lisa, the role of the father figure for Ben; he did it all for Sam. But his reality still remained, Sam wasn’t there anymore.

When he had his arguments with Lisa, Dean wanted nothing more than to get into his car and drive away. There’d been quite a few times he’d angrily go to his Impala, uncover it, and pull the door open.  He’d climb into the car, and shove the key into the ignition; though he never gained the courage to actually turn the key. He’d grip onto the steering wheel, his grasp tightening the longer he looked at the empty spot beside him. Once he felt his hands begin to go numb, he’d climb back out, slam the door shut and cover her up again. Still being too damn upset to back into the house, Dean settles for getting into his pick-up and driving off.  He then finds himself at a bar. Upon entering, he quickly spots an empty stool at on end of the counter.


You were with a couple of friends when you saw him enter the bar. One of your friends pointed him out to you, and it was almost like an instant trance. Your eyes remained fixed on him until he reached his seat. He was unbelievably handsome, but the longer your gaze was glued onto him, the more you saw past the physical attraction the man held. You saw the general tiredness his face carried, the unhealthy complexion of his skin, and the bags under his eyes. At one point, he must have felt your gaze on him, because he lifts his head, and meets your eyes. You take in a small breath of air, and quickly look away; slightly embarrassed from being caught. Too embarrassed to risk sharing eye contact with him again, you turn your back to him, and return your attention to your friends.

A couple hours go by, you and your friends are gossiping over drinks, when suddenly you hear the chaos of two men arguing. You quickly turn around to find the source of the sound. Your eyes land on the handsome man from before, and a couple of biker guys closing in on him by the pool table. In a blink of an eye fists are being swung. The handsome guy gets clocked pretty good, causing him to fall to the ground. He quickly lifts himself off the ground, wiping the blood that was beginning to drip from his lip. He then takes a swing at one of the bikers, landing his shot. His victory is short lived, when the other biker comes from behind, with a beer bottle; smashing it to bits across his head.

At this point your adrenaline kicks in. You run to the middle of the scene, quickly propping yourself, arms wide, as a human shield for the handsome man who was now groaning from pain, on the floor.

“Enough.” You growl out.

The biker cackles at your smaller frame defending the man on the ground. “Move, darlin’,” He says. “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “No.” You say firmly, now crossing your arms across your chest. The two of you stare each other down. If there was one thing you were good at, it was standing your ground. Eventually the biker gave in. He rolled his eyes, and muttered obscenities under his breath as he and his friend walked away.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you then turned your attention back to the handsome man. He was now sitting on the ground, with his hand up against his head. You could see the blood beginning to slide down from under. You took off your cardigan and handed it to him.

“Here you can use this.” You said as you handed it to him.

He reluctantly took it from you, and obeyed your instructions by putting it against the wound. “Thanks.” He chuckles. You nod, and lift yourself off of the ground. You stretch your hand out to him, which he quickly gets a hold of. You help him on his feet, trying to keep him steady. Once he’s up, you meet his eyes, examining between them to see if there were any signs for you to worry.

“We should probably take you to the hospital,” You begin to say. “Is there anyone you want me to call?”

He quickly shakes his head. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“You’re far from fine. You’re bleeding from your head, you might need stitches,” You explain. Once again he stubbornly shakes his head. “Fine, will you atleast let me take a look at you? Just to be safe.”


After a few minutes of debating with him, you’d finally managed to convince him to let you check out his wound. He refused to give you his home address; claimed his girlfriend would be pissed to see him in this condition. So you opted to taking him to your home. The drive home was fairly quiet. He’d seemed very lost in his own thoughts.

As soon as you arrived to your apartment, you immediately led him to your bathroom. You brought a chair with you, and set it in bathtub. Once you had that set up, you moved aside and gestured towards the chair. He looked at the chair questioningly.

“Why do you want me to sit in that?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s dried blood all over your scalp. I’m going to wash your hair, and inspect the damage as I go.” You explained.

He lets out an annoyed sigh, but once again complies with your demand. He hands you back your bloodied cardigan as he shrugs out of his jacket. He then removes the flannel shirt he’d been wearing under, leaving him with a plain black t-shirt. He then kicks off his boots, removes his socks and folds up his jeans. Finally, he takes his seat on the chair.

You pulled down the shower head, and turned the knob so the water came out gently. He laid his head back, keeping his eyes closed as you began to wash his hair; running your fingers gently through the short, dark blonde strands of hair. The water on the tub floor began to turn red as the blood was coming out of his hair. You carefully rubbed his scalp, trying to get a feel for any deep wounds. You knew when you’d find a new one, because he’d wince each time; you’d apologize each time.

Finally when the water began to run clear, you shut off the water. You reached over to your towel rack, and handed him a towel. He took it from you; silently thanking you.

“So, doc, how’s it lookin’?” He asks lifting his brows at you as he stepped out of tub.

You smiled. “From the feel, seems like you just have a few cuts. But I want to be thorough.” You said, as you gestured for him to follow you. He complies and follows you out back to the living room.

“Take a seat, I’ll be right back.” You said pointing to the couch.

He nods his head, and takes a seat; leaving him alone in your living room. His eyes scan around, taking in every little decoration you had. His eyes then land on a little detail he’d almost missed. Lying on the coffee table in front of him, was a stethoscope accompanied by a hospital badge. He took the badge in his hands. No wonder she wants to be so thorough. He thinks to himself.

Your footsteps approaching pull his attention away from your badge. Once you enter the living room, he flashes you the badge in his hand. “Doctor Y/N, huh?” He teases.

You nod and then flash him your first aid kid. “Yep. So now you know you’re in good hands.” You tease back.


The next 10 minutes you spent thoroughly checking his hair, removing any remnants of glass shards left behind. He’d seemed to have warmed up to you in the short time. Much different than the car ride to your apartment, he was now making conversation with you as you worked. The highlight of your conversation was getting his name. Dean Winchester.

You’d been done tending his wounds; you hadn’t even realized when you’d taken a seat beside him on the couch. The two of you spoke, conversation topics coming easily, jokes being told, at one point he even opened up a little about his brother passing away. Before you knew it, he was yawning. At that moment you looked at your watch, realizing it was 3a.m. The two of you had blown a couple of hours simply talking to one another.

“You want me to drive you home?” You ask.

The question seemingly coming out of nowhere, he then looked at his own watch. “Damn, time flew by didn’t it?” You nod in response. “You already nursed my wounds Dr. Y/N,” He teases. “I’ll call a taxi.” He says as he pulls out his phone from his pocket.

The moment he does, an impulse overcomes you. “No, wait!” You blurt out. His eyes widen at your sudden outburst. “Sorry,” You pause. “Was just going to offer my home for the night. You’re more than free to stay… if you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

His eyes land on his phone as he considers your offer. The numerous missed calls and angry text messages from Lisa worked on helping him decide. “I’ve slept on a lot worse than this couch, sweetheart.” He smiles.

“Alright,” You felt yourself giggle like a child having a sleepover. “I’ll go get some stuff so you can sleep.” You pushed yourself off the couch, ran into your room to retrieve a couple pillows and a blanket for your guest.

You handed him the items once you returned. He stood up from the couch and happily took them from you. “Thanks, Y/N.” He says.

“No problem,” You smile. “Sleep tight.” You wave him off, once again leaving alone in your living room.


The next morning you’d realized you’d slept in. You damned yourself for not turning your alarm on the night before. You quickly jumped out of bed, sliding your slippers on and wrapping yourself in your bathrobe as you got onto your feet. Just as you were about to run out of your room; memories of the previous few hours came rushing back. Dean was probably still sleeping on your couch.

You decided to go back to your mirror before exiting your room; giving yourself a quick clean up just in case he was awake. Being somewhat satisfied with the image in the reflection, you exit your room. You quietly walk to your living room, only to find yourself feeling strangely disappointed. The only thing on the couch was your blanket neatly folded lying on top of the pillow you gave him. Upon closer inspection, you then realized there was a small note lying on top.

Thanks for everything, sweetheart. See ya around. – D

You smiled at the words written on the note; smiling with the hope that what was written was true. You hoped you would see him around soon.