Hello! Here’s a request I’ve been working on; I had fun with this one!
Request: @dragoncharmwitch - Could you make a text where you’re michael’s older sister and he finds out you fancy ash. And the boys set you up please :) // Sorry this one took so long!
Title: Brother’s Best Friend
Summary: When her brother and his friends find out that Y/N has a crush on Ashton, they decide to take action.
Warnings: Lil’ bit of language. Nothing horrible.
“Shit,” you mutter, digging through the refrigerator. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you turn around and run a hand through your hair. “Michael!” you shout. You wait a few moments and, when he doesn’t reply, you cup your hands around your mouth and yell a bit louder. “Michael!”
You hear a muffled “What,” from upstairs and groan in frustration.
“You took the last bottle of water, you prick!” you call again, but you’re met with silence. Naturally, of course; you can only assume your brother is in his bedroom with the door closed, his music up loud, and his headset glued to his ears so he can talk to his friends as he plays his video games. “Moron,” you grumble to yourself, slamming the refrigerator door closed and grabbing your keys from the table. Looks like you’re making a grocery run. Oh, well. You need snacks, anyway.
You head to the door, but when you open it you yelp in surprise as you nearly collide with another body. “What the hell!” you exclaim, blinking in surprise before your gaze focuses on a face you know all too well.
“Well, hello to you too, Y/N,” Ashton says with a cheeky grin.
You roll your eyes and smile, shaking your head. “Move over, Irwin,” you tell him, and you can only hope your face isn’t as red as a tomato.
So maybe you have a tiny, little crush on your brother’s friend. You’re honestly not sure how someone with a working pair of eyes couldn’t have a crush on Ashton. The guy is gorgeous. Half of your grade drools over him, including you. You suppose you’re lucky that he’s one of Michael’s best friends, granting you opportunities to see him outside of school several times a week, although you never quite understood why Ashton hangs out with a bunch of kids in the year below him.
“Well, what’s the password?” Ashton quips in regard to your demand, crossing his arms. He unknowingly flexes in the process, and your heart skips a beat.
“The password,” you say, still smiling, “is back up before I make you.”
Ashton lets out a laugh (you’re pretty sure a swarm of butterflies was just set loose in your stomach) and steps away. “As much as I’d like to accept your challenge, Y/N,” he says, “you’re awfully intimidating when you threaten.”
Your smile grows and you step out of the doorway, making your way down the driveway before turning around to glance at Ashton. You could swear he just winked at you before he walked into the house, but you tell yourself it’s just wishful thinking. Still, though, after you’ve settled behind the wheel of your car, you pull out your phone to text your friend.
Ashton Irwin just got here and the boy looks too good. I have actual tears in my eyes.
You add a heart-eyed emoji at the end of the message for exaggeration before you toss your phone into the center console and start up the car.
“Honey, I’m home,” you mutter sarcastically as you walk through the door. You’re juggling a six-pack of bottled water and two grocery bags as you stumble into the kitchen, dropping everything onto the counter at the first chance you get. You hear laughter from upstairs and realize that Michael has a few other friends over as well as Ashton; probably Luke and Calum.
You set to work putting away the few groceries you bought and take a bottle of water for yourself. You hear footsteps behind you, and when you turn around you see Michael standing behind you. “Uh, hi?” you say with a frown. Your brother looks slightly puzzled as he scratches at the back of his neck.
“Do you like Ashton?” he asks bluntly.
You blink, taken slightly aback by the question. “I—what? I mean, yeah. Obviously I like him. I kinda have to, considering he’s your friend and—”
“No,” Michael shakes his head. “Not like, platonically or anything. I mean it as in, like… more than platonically?”
A feeling of unease settles over you. How would he—
And then your eyes widen. You reach for your phone, quickly unlocking it and opening your messages. “Fuck,” you whisper when you realize that you didn’t, in fact, send your Ashton-related text to your friend Michaela, but instead to Michael. Damn them and their similar names.
You look up from your phone and notice that Michael is still there, standing awkwardly. “I…” you begin, trying to figure out the best way to word your next sentence. It’s no use lying at this point, you figure. Might as well admit. “I… find him… attractive,” you say, and it comes out sounding more like a question than anything else.
“You think Ashton is attractive?” Michael repeats, furrowing his brow.
“Yes?” you reply sheepishly, cringing slightly.
Michael shakes his head and you think you might die from awkwardness. There’s no way he won’t tell Ashton. Even worse, Ashton probably already saw the message. Shit, shit, shit, sh—
“I mean, coming from a straight guy, you’re not wrong.”
“Huh?” you ask, looking at your brother. Michael only shrugs.
“Ashton Irwin is an attractive male,“ he clarifies. “I’m straight, not blind.”
“Wait…” you begin, “so you’re not like, mad or anything?”
“I mean I’m not gonna lie, it kinda weirds me out,” Michael admits, “but in all honesty I think he’s sort of into you too, something I will never be able to understand—”
“—but, I guess it’s whatever. You guys flirt all the time and it’s kinda nasty, so Luke and Cal and I talked it over and figured we might as well help you guys out.”
At this point, you’re thoroughly confused. So, Michael is okay with the fact that you like Ashton? And he thinks Ashton likes you too? And he and his other friends are going to help you out? “What… what does that even mean?” you say skeptically.
“Just don’t worry about it,” Michael sighs. “It wasn’t my idea; Luke just thinks he’s a genius or something. I’m gonna go back upstairs now before I puke at the thought of you dating one of my best friends.”
“O-okay?” you stutter, watching as your younger brother heads back upstairs. You press a hand to your forehead and lean against the counter, letting out a deep breath.
What the hell just happened?
You groan as you hear Michael’s voice from down the hall. You just got comfortable on your bed. “What?” you holler back.
You don’t receive a reply, and you groan again, closing your laptop and standing up from your spot. Stretching your back, you slowly pad your way down the hall to Michael’s bedroom. The door is closed, so you knock. “Mike, what the hell do you want?” you demand. You can hear laughter and gunshots, meaning they’re still glued to their video game. “Mi—” you’re about to knock one more time before the door opens to reveal your brother’s friend Calum.
“Oh,” he says. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Hi?” you frown, trying to peer around him into the room. “Why did you guys call?”
Michael materializes behind Calum and grins. “We sent Ashton into the garage.”
“Congratulations,” you deadpan. “Why, though?”
“We told him to find a ball. We want to play some pickup in the yard,” calls Luke from his spot in front of the TV.
“Cool…” you say, your frown deepening.
“We’re in the middle of a game, so could you just go help him?” Michael suggests, rolling his eyes.
You make a face of exasperation, letting out a sigh when you realize what’s going on. “Seriously, you guys?”
“Take the opportunity or leave it, Y/N,” says Michael. “Naturally I’d prefer for you to leave it, but I’m outnumbered.”
You look up at Calum and he shrugs, smiling innocently at you. “We just want to play some football.”
You close your eyes and press your fingers to the bridge of your nose. “Fine,” you say finally. “I will go help Ashton look for a ball.”
Without another word, you turn and head back down the hall.
You wish you were wearing something other than sweatpants and a tank top as you step into the garage, where Ashton is rummaging through the piles of junk. “Need a hand?” you call, straining to see him.
“Huh?” his head pokes around from behind a cardboard box and he grins when he realizes it’s you. “Oh. Hey, Y/N. How’d you know I was struggling out here?”
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Just had a feeling. I can always tell when there’s a damsel in distress nearby.”
Ashton stands to his full height and stretches. “Damsel in distress?” he asks. “I take offense to that. Very emasculating.”
“It’s the twenty-first century,” you tell him. “Nothing should be emasculating. But, if it makes you feel any better, Mike and the other guys told me to help you.”
“Ah, so they’re the ones who can sense a person in distress.”
“More-or-less,” you agree, stepping forward. “So, you can’t find a ball.”
“I’m afraid you’re correct,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair and glancing around.
You follow his line of vision, looking around the garage before your gaze lands on exactly what you’re looking for. “Well,” you say triumphantly, walking over to a box hidden behind Michael’s old bicycle that he’s used maybe like once in his entire life and reaching over to grab the black-and-white ball. “Clearly you didn’t look very hard.”
Ashton purses his lips and exhales through his nose. “Guess not.”
You giggle and walk back over to where he’s standing, holding the ball out. However, when he goes to grab it, you pull it back toward you. “You know, this is gonna cost you,” you snicker, looking at him with arched eyebrows.
“Oh, really?” he replies with a grin, stepping closer. In response, you take a step back. You nod, and his smile grows. “Well, what’s your price?”
“Hmm,” you pretend to think, tapping your index finger against your lips and looking up. “I think—” Before you can finish your sentence, Ashton lunges forward and grabs the ball. However, you had a strong grip on it and as a result, he pulled you forward as well. You end up a few inches away from him and laugh nervously, hoping your face isn’t growing red at the proximity. “You think you’re quick!” you remark, looking up at him and immediately wishing you didn’t.
The two of you hold eye contact for what can’t be more than one second before he speaks, but you’re like 80% sure it really lasts closer to five minutes (have his eyes always had that much green in them?), before he speaks. “Actually,” he says lowly, and you can’t stop your breath from hitching, “I know I’m quick.”
You steel yourself and tilt your head to the side in faux innocence. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” you challenge.
“You want proof?”
“Yep,” you smirk. “Full proof, and maybe an essay written in MLA format with—”
Your sentence is cut off by Ashton’s hands on either side of your face and his lips on yours. You drop the ball, letting it bounce away across the concrete. You’re about to respond when Ashton breaks the kiss. “You talk too much,” he says, smiling at you. “How’s that for quick?”
You’re pretty sure you resemble a fish right now, your jaw dropping only for your mouth to snap closed, then fall open again as you try to process what the hell just happend. “Oh my god.”
Ashton’s expression changes to one of fear, maybe doubt, and he lets go of your face. “Wait, did I overstep?” he asks, taking a step back. “Shit, Y/N, I thought… should I not have…? Shit, I’m sorry, I—”
This time, however, you’re the quick one. Having (mostly) recovered from the first kiss, you don’t waste any time in closing the distance between the two of you, lightly grabbing the material at the collar of his singlet and pulling him toward you. “And you said I talk too much,” you say before leaning forward.
It feels nice to kiss Ashton. He’s good at it. The two of you break apart again, only to grin at each other and lean in once more. “You’re supposed to be bringing that ball up to the other guys,” you remind him against his lips, and he lets out a breathy laugh in response.
“They can wait a little bit longer.”
So where does this leave us?
You chew on your lip anxiously as your thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button, and you close your eyes when you tap it. The familiar whoosh of your message sending causes you to cringe. Do you sound desperate? Clingy?
Ashton and the other guys left about a half hour ago. The garage incident escalated to a brief makeout session before you and Ashton finally decided you were gone for too long. Exchanging awkward smiles, he left the garage and you followed a few minutes later. You didn’t see him for the rest of the night.
So now here you are, sitting on the couch while a movie plays on the TV and serves as background noise to your inner suspense.
Suddenly the telltale bubble appears on Ashton’s side of the screen, showing that he’s typing. “Shit,” you mutter. You close your messaging app and wait for his message to come through, and when it does, your heart lurches anxiously.
You tell me, princess.
You roll your eyes before typing back a quick response.
Don’t do that. You kissed me first.
He continues to type and your heart rate picks up. You look up at the TV in front of you. A clearly-suspenseful scene is playing out, and the lead character’s heartbeat is illustrated through the pounding of drums. Me too, you relate. A whoosh tells you that Ashton has replied.
I think it’s pretty safe to say that I’m into you, if you couldn’t tell earlier. And it seemed an awful like you’re into me, too. So, I’d like to act on this mutual interest, as long as you’re up for it.
You bite your lip again, but this time it isn’t out of nerve. You fight a smile as you type back.
Sounds good to me.
Oh, but you’re not asking me out over text. Just a heads up.
When Ashton’s reply comes in, you can’t help but kick your legs and laugh out of giddiness.
Wouldn’t have it any other way. Talk to you tomorrow xx
“You’re welcome, by the way,” comes Michael’s voice as he enters the room with a soda in his hand, plopping down on the recliner that rests diagonal from the couch you’re on. He takes a swig from the aluminum can and raises an eyebrow smugly.
“Shut up,” you tell him, but you can’t bring yourself to be mad. The smile on your face is more than enough proof.
Pairing: Gabriel x Reader (Friendship) Word count: 718 Warnings: Non romance fluffy friendship! Just something light hearted and fun for my requester. I wanted this to be something she could put herself in since this was her request. <3 Written for my 400 Followers Celebration Requested by:@carry-on-my-wayward-girlPrompt: Minions / Quote: “We need to talk about your life choices.”
The trip through New York City was exciting, especially with Peter swinging you around. During the trip through the city, Peter contacted someone with his watch but you didn’t hear who it was, as you were perplexed by the city-life under you. Eventually, you arrived at the outskirts of the city where a car was waiting for you.
Peter took off his mask and entered the shiny, black car with you following suit. When you two settled in the driver introduced himself as someone called ‘Happy’ and began to drive. The ride to the Avengers’ headquarters took around two hours. Through the entire drive, you were slightly shaking, just enough for Peter to notice. He placed his hand on yours and gave you a slight sympathetic gaze. He leaned in to whisper, “Relax. Everything will be fine. The trip will take a while, so you can take a nap if you want.” You gave Peter a slight smile as you placed your head on his shoulder and drifted to sleep.
“(Y/N), wake up. We’re here,” you heard as you felt Peter gently shook your shoulder. Your eyes fluttered open to the sight of Peter still in his Spider-Man suit except for his mask, letting you see his tired eyes and adorably disheveled hair. “We’re here,” he said again as he started to make his way out of the car. You sat up sleepily and looked out the window to see an enormous building. Jumping out of the car, you headed towards the large double doors.
When you walked into the building, you were in awe. You could barely move, standing where you stood, drinking up your surroundings.
“Is this the girlfriend I’ve heard so much about?” you heard behind you. You turned around and brought yourself face-to-face with Tony Stark.
“Excuse me?” you asked, starstruck.
“Are you the girlfriend-” Tony began to say when Peter rushed to quiet him.
“This is (Y/N),” Peter said, looking away from you, trying to hide the blush on his face. “She needs a place to stay for help with her powers.” Tony turned back to you and looked you up and down.
“What can you do?” Tony asked but you suspected he already knew, judging by his interaction with Peter.
“I can manipulate the four elements,” you said, raising your chin up in an attempt to give yourself more confidence.
“So you’re like the real life avatar?” Tony asked, with an eyebrow cocked.
“I guess so,” you replied thinking about it to yourself. After a minute of silence, Peter spoke up.
“Do you have a room prepared for (Y/N)?” Tony looked at you one last time before turning to Peter.
“Yes, I do, Spiderling,” Tony replied. “Her room is upstairs, down the hall, first door to the right,” Tony said, retreating to the other side of the building to what you assumed to be his workshop.
When you entered your room, you were astonished. The room was bigger than anything you were used to. You instantly made yourself comfortable by sitting on the bed, with Peter following suit. You two sat in silence until Peter finally spoke.
“I have to leave in a few minutes and head back home,” Peter said as he glanced over to your confused face. “I know we just got here, but I live back in the city and my Aunt May is going to kill me if get back after dinner.” Your features began to soften.
“I understand,” you stated. “Where are the other Avengers?”
“That’s a long story that I don’t have enough time to explain,” Peter commented.
“But I do,” a voice piped up that caused you to jump.
“Vision, you’re not allowed to enter someone’s room without their permission!” Peter exclaimed.
“I apologize. The door was open so I assumed I could walk in. I was told to check in on how you have adjusted,” Vision stated, trying to make up for the fact he trespassed you personal space.
“That’s alright,” you said.
Peter began to lean into your ear. “I have to go,” he whispered. You nodded in response as Peter began to walk out of the room. When Peter reached your bedroom door, he turned to you and gave you a sheepish grin before he exited the room.
You look towards Vision, “So where are the other Avengers?” Vision was about to respond when he pointed to your bed and you gave a slight nod. He sat down on your bed before he began.
“At the moment, we don’t know where they are. We have a few theories but none proven thus far. There was a war within the Avengers that split the team into two. One group sided with Mr. Stark, while the others were with Captain America.” You gave him a slight nod at the acknowledgement of Captain America, pressing him to continue. “They had differing views on the subject of the Sokovia Accords. This document established the regulation-” Vision was cut short when a female voice spoke through the intercom in the room.
“(Y/N). Dinner has been acquired for you on the main floor,” you heard the voice say.
“What was that?” you asked, facing Vision.
“That would be F.R.I.D.A.Y., the AI system created by Mr. Stark,” Vision answered. “She manages everything in the house; most importantly your dinner, which is waiting for you downstairs.” Vision rose from your bed and exited the room with you following behind.
When you descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, you noticed two boxes of pizza sitting on the kitchen counter. You hesitantly walked to the pizza boxes when a voice piped up behind you. “The pizza won’t bite. You can grab a slice.” You swiveled your body and came face to face with Tony. “I had F.R.I.D.A.Y. order cheese and pepperoni since I didn’t know what you liked,” Tony said as he grabbed himself a slice of pepperoni pizza.
“I’m more of a meat lover’s pizza person,” you replied with a grin.
“I’ll have F.R.I.D.A.Y. order a meat lover’s,” Tony said as he pulled up the AI system on his watch but before he could talk, you interjected.
“No, it’s alright. I’ll just get slice of both,” you said, with a slight smile on your face. You grabbed your slices of pizza as you sat down at the kitchen table. “What exactly happened with the war between you and Captain America. Every time someone attempts to tell, we get interrupted.”
Tony’s features began to harden before he responded, “That’s not something I talk about much.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” you said, lowering your head to focus on your pizza.
“It’s fine,” Tony responded. “I’m going to take my dinner to my room. Any questions you have about the war can be answered by F.R.I.D.A.Y. and all the info can be found in my office down the hall,” he said as he walked out of the room. You picked up your pizza and headed out the door to his office.
When you walked in, your eyes darted for the computer. You turned it on and while you waited for it to loud, your eyes landed on a cute little drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. It was holding an umbrella in one hand and a shield in the- “(Y/N). What can I do for you?” you heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. say from the computer, interrupting your thoughts.
“I want to know more about the war between Tony and Captain America,” you said, sitting up straighter.
“The dispute between Mr. Stark and Steve Rogers was over the Sokovia Accords. This document established the regulation when the Avengers should be called into action. James Buchanan Barnes was also at the center of this dispute based on his previous actions concerning Mr. Stark’s parents….” F.R.I.D.A.Y. continued on with every detail of the war leading you to change how you saw the Avengers. When F.R.I.D.A.Y. began to explain Peter’s involvement in all of this, you began to search through Tony’s desk from boredom. Your eyes spotted a letter labeled ‘Tony’ and an old flip phone. You knew you shouldn’t open it but you were curious. The letter was from Steve and contained an apology, but also a chance for rekindling the team. You began to devise a plan in your head when you took the flip phone out of the desk and called the only number in the phone. A man picked up on the third ring.
“Tony?” the voice said.
“Nope. Sorry,” you responded.
“Who is this? How did you get this number?” The man said, alarm in his voice.
“I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I found this phone in Tony’s office while I was learning about the falling out of the Avengers. I’m assuming this is Steve?”
“Yes, it is. Why are you at the compound?”
“I needed a place to stay and help with my powers.”
“How old are you?”
You hesitated before you answered. “Sixteen.” You heard a sigh on the other end of the line. “Did Tony really allow half the team to be locked up?”
Steve paused. “It’s complicated.”
“I want to join you,” you said, raising your voice.
“What?” Steve asked, slightly surprised.
“I want to join you. Wherever you are. I agree with your stances and I want to get away from here,” you said, trying to hide the wavering in your voice to cover up the slight lie you just told.
“I can’t put your life at risk. And our location is top secret-”
“You’re in Wakanda,” you interrupted him.
“I’ve read the files about the fight and the theories of where you possibly are. Wakanda seemed like the most logical place for you to be,” you said, with a slight grin on your face.
The line was quiet before Steve responded, “There’s no point in arguing is there?”
“Nope,” you responded.
Steve let out a loud sigh and responded, “There is no way for me to stop you. If you believe that you’ll be safe here, then do what you want. Just… be careful.” Steve hung up the phone while you let a triumphant smile spread across your face. You raced to the garage as your eyes landed on a quinjet.
Alarms sounded through the compound as you exited the garage in the quinjet. The controls looked very confusing, but luckily, like all the tech owned by Stark, it had F.R.I.D.A.Y.
“Miss (L/N), you are not authorized to take the quinjet,” the AI system announced.
“It’s urgent! I need to go to Wakanda!” you yelled at the system.
“This is against my protocols. I can’t let you leave the premises-” F.R.I.D.A.Y. never finished her statement. You opened a hatch on the control panel and ripped out a bunch of wires.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., I need you to take me to Wakanda,” you said with determination in your voice.
“Setting coordinates now, Miss (L/N),” the AI responded. As you began to relax in the seat, two figures flew by the side of the quinjet.
“(Y/N)! What are you doing?!” You looked to the side of the quinjet to see Iron Man and Vision. “Get out of the quinjet!”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Turn on the intercom.”
“Tony, I can’t do that. There is something I have to do. You need to trust me,” you pleaded.
“How can I trust you when you’re stealing one of my quinjets? That one took me forever to make you know,” Tony commented in a smug voice.
“I’m not stealing it. I’m borrowing it. I’ll bring it back,” you continued to plead.
“I can’t let you do that,” Tony responded, while he advanced towards you with Vision close behind. They didn’t get very far when they began to notice the earth opening up under them. Rocks shot up from the ground and began to fly around Tony and Vision.
“Miss (L/N)? What are you doing?” Vision questioned.
“Slowing you down,” you answered when boulders began to rise from the ground and loom over them. Vision tried to use his mind gem to crush the boulders, but they soon overwhelmed him. The earth began to form giant hands that reached up and grabbed Vision and Tony, bring them closer to the ground. The ground enveloped their bodies, leaving them trapped in cocoons.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Contact Tony,” you demanded. Tony’s face appeared on the screen. “Tony, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you but this is really important and it will all make sense soon. I promise,” you said, slightly distressed.
After a minute, Tony responded. “Don’t break my jet.”
“That’s all you have to say?” you asked, slightly confused.
“There is no way for me to stop you. At least not right now as I’m a little too close and personal with Vision,” Tony commented, causing a slight grin on your face. “I will be telling Peter, though.”
Your face began to drop when thoughts of Peter flooded your mind. “I figured,” was your only response.
Tony let out a giant sigh and said, “Be careful,” before disconnecting the call. You began to relax into your chair looking straight ahead, awaiting your destination.
shoreline (e.g. beach, harbor, lighthouse cliff edge)
treehouse / kids’ secret base
meadow (day or night or different seasons)
patio / balcony
unfinished building (e.g. abandoned, under construction)
bedroom (e.g. messy, neat, being “used”)
lab / surgical theatre
coral reef / lake
ship / boat
witch’s / giant’s / monster’s lair
fast food / diner
plane / airship
space walk / spacejet
wonderland / alien world
hallway (e.g. museum, mansion, school)
prison / dungeon
temple / cathedral / important building
Added challenge!: a) Include no “people” b) include OCs/people in all of them c) do a before/after split of each (e.g. time lapse, seasons, day/night, weather) d) choose a time period or setting to incorporate details for all of them (e.g. fantasy, medieval, modern, future)
@ltleflrt has come to my rescue and sent me some proposal drabble ideas. I’m going to write a hundred of them.
PAIRING: Dean Winchester/Castiel SUMMARY: Art student Castiel and Engineer Dean have been friends since undergrad, boyfriends since sophomore year. The whole time, Castiel has been using Dean’s arm as a canvas for Sharpie tattoos since Dean is afraid of needles.
“You run out of paper again?” Dean mutters, not turning his eyes away from his engineering textbook.
“No,” Castiel says distractedly. “You haven’t had a tattoo in a while. That’s sad. I’m fixing that now.”
Dean spares only a quick glance over the top of his black rimmed glasses just to make sure that nothing’s changed in the past few weeks. It hasn’t. Dean is sitting cross legged on the floor, back resting against his bed, studying. Castiel is arranging his Sharpie markers in a neat line on the floor beside him contemplating Dean’s bare arm with that squinty, considering look that Dean likes. He likes it so much he doesn’t even suggest that Castiel give in and have his eyes checked already. It’s been eight years, and the squinting lines are starting to etch permanently into his forehead. Dean likes that, too.
He also actually likes Castiel drawing on his arm. Always has. They’d been freshmen strangers, assigned to the same dorm room. A pizza, several sodas, and a late night of unpacking their belongings later, they’d talked that punch-drunk talk of already sleep deprived students. Dean had said he’d always wanted a full sleeve tattoo. Castiel had said he could help design one. Dean had flinched and said his needle phobia would never allow him to actually get it. Castiel had frowned and looked legitimately sad.
Two weeks later he’d brought out the Sharpies and given Dean his first “tattoo.” It had been an explosion of tropical flowers up his forearm with ukiyo-e styled waves cresting up his arm. Dean had been stunned at his roommate’s talent.
Every time the ink finally washed off, Castiel replaced the tattoo. Eight years of it, every one getting better and better.
Castiel has a whole Instagram account dedicated to his designs and an obscene amount of people follow it.
And he and Dean had stayed together from undergrad to master’s to PhD. Or, as Castiel likes to say, four apartments and two cats, and one house ago.
They haven’t seen each other in three weeks over their extended winter break. Castiel had remained at their apartment and taken care of the cats while Dean had gone home to Kansas for his annual family visit. When he’d finally pulled the Impala into his parking space in the garage, he’d discovered a landing strip drawn in sidewalk chalk on the ground along with a massive calligraphic scrawl stating, “about time you got home.”
And Dean can tell by the way that Castiel is gripping his arm, studying the skin closely like he’s trying re-memorize it, that they’ve both been completely miserable apart. It’s like this every year, but Castiel hates getting in the way of Dean and Sam’s only weeks alone together. Dean appreciates it and hates it. He keeps sending Castiel links to jobs near Sam’s area. He’d like them all to be a family one day.
He leans over and kisses Castiel on his temple before the man really gets to work on the tattoo. If he waits, Castiel will grumble at him for even the slightest movement. For an hour.
Castiel reaches up and takes Dean’s glasses off with a frustrated face. “I love you, and I missed you.”
Castiel plants both of his hands on either side of Dean’s legs, pushing himself up onto all fours and kissing Dean on the mouth at full throttle. It never gets old. Dean is happiest knowing that this will never change between them. He shuts his book and shoves it aside.
Castiel breaks away and turns around, resolutely resting his back against Dean’s chest. Dean sighs. “No working for a while?” Castiel has taken a lot of moves out of the cats’ playbook over the years, and bullying his way into Dean’s lap is one of the classics.
In answer, Castiel bends forward to grab the remote off of the table and passes it back. "Pick a movie.”
Dean does as Castiel settles in to do some art. He raises his knees and plants Dean’s left arm across them. When he starts to draw, all of the tension leaks out of Dean, as always. Nothing relaxes him like this. Silent except for the TV, the tangy smell of Sharpies, Castiel’s even breathing, the slight itch as the markers dry on him. His limp arm being turned this way and that.
The movie is almost over when Castiel caps his last Sharpie with a loud snap. That sound is how Dean knows he’s done. “Can I look?”
Castiel turns his arm around a few more times and hums thoughtfully. “Yes.”
Dean holds his arm out. Wow. It looks… familiar on the top. “Have you done this one before?”
Castiel scratches his nose and slips out of his lap. “Yes.”
He has. It takes a minute. Then… right. It’s the same tropical flowers that Castiel had first given him. The waves. It’s a lot more detailed than it was years ago. He really has improved so much. “My first tattoo,” he murmurs, turning his arm over. Looking down the underside of his arm, he suddenly realizes why Castiel decided to revisit this one. “Yes,” he says. He wants to say it straight to Castiel’s face, but his eyes are caught by the swirling black calligraphy right against the pulse point on his inner wrist. “Yes,” he says again, stronger.
Castiel scoots forward and places his hands on Dean’s knees. “Really?” His fingers trace over the words, Marry Me.
“Hell, yeah,” Dean confirms, yanking Castiel forward for a searing kiss.
Dean couldn’t have been more thrilled that you didn’t seem
even the least bit suspect when he suggested that your father join him out at
the garage to work on the TransAm for a while before dinner.
“That would be good,” you father agreed. “I can see if my
daughter is really holding her own weight out there.”
He winked at you; you smiled and hugged him before kissing
Dean quickly and heading to your own truck. Dean watched you go, smiling to
himself over how pretty you looked in your modest, classic-cut Easter dress. He
was lucky to have you.
When the two men walked into the garage on the land, your
father was truly in awe of the work you two had done on the TransAm.
“Y/N found the list of things her grandfather wanted to do to
shape it up,” Dean informed him. “We adjusted it a little, added a few things
that have needed to be repaired or replaced over time, but mostly, we’re
sticking to the list.”
“I’m impressed. How’s Y/N doing as far as helping?”
Dean grinned, leaning against the nearby workbench. “She’s
great. I mean, she knows what she’s talking about. Honestly, Mike, you raised a
great girl. She smart and she’s funny. I mean, I’ve known since pretty much the
first date that I wanted to spend a lot of time with Y/N, but now …”
“Now you’re thinking maybe you’d like to spend forever with
her?” your father supplied.
Dean tried to fight the unmanly blush that his nerves suddenly
painted on his face. He nervously fumbled for the box he’d hidden in his jacket
pocket, hoping to have this opportunity to talk to your father. Dean displayed
his mother’s wedding set, placing the box on the workbench.
“I would, sir. With your permission.” Dean took a deep breath.
“I mean, I’m not saying I’m planning on asking her anytime soon. I know it hasn’t
been a long time. I always thought that I’d date a girl for years before I
wanted to marry her. But even telling Y/N that I love her came out of the blue –
I knew I was feeling it, but saying it was different. It just poured out of me.
I have a plan, but if it’s the same with this, I want to know that I have her
Your father took a deep breath. “You know her well enough to
know how important that is. Have you two talked about this before?”
“Not this specifically,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “But
while we were in Florida, the subject came up. I could have asked her on the
spot and been happy for the rest of my life. I figured we were caught up in the
thrill of being away together for the first time, and all that. But now, we’ve
been back for a while and that feeling isn’t going away. If I’m being entirely
honest, I think even my family had given up on my finding someone. But Y/N …
she’s changed everything.”
Your father looked at Dean; he had often found himself praying
for a good man who would love his only daughter the way Dean seemed to love
you. It was one of the few times in his adult life that your father had to
fight tears, albeit happy ones, as he considered the young man’s request.
Later on, after dinner, Dean helped your brothers clean up the
kitchen while you visited with Mary and your sister-in-law. Eli was fussing, so
you accepted Kayla’s offer to feed him and see if you could get him to sleep
for a while. After half of a bottle, the baby was asleep in your arms; you were
leaned back in the recliner, half-asleep yourself.
Dean allowed his heart to embrace what he was feeling; his
mind wandered to the future. You in that same recliner, in the house on your
grandfather’s land that was now yours, holding a baby – his baby.
He thought again about the ring set in his jacket pocket, and
his mind replayed the words your father had said back at the garage.
only daughter, Dean. Take care of her.
With a firm handshake, Dean had promised that he would never
let anything bad come your way. And, if it did, he would be right by your side
to see you through it.
There was no promise Dean Winchester had made in his life that
he was more intent on keeping than the one he had made to your father that
This is set in Boom, as if Sonic and Amy were just seeing each other again for the first time in a while, because that’s how I feel writing about SonAmy since I haven’t in a while.
Sonic leapt off Tails’ plane before it had even landed on the little island. He immediately took off, taking in the whole island in about 3 and a half seconds. He stopped back at the plane and looked up at his oldest friend.
“It’s nice.” He said with a shrug, nothing different from any other island he’d been on though. Tails floated down from the cockpit and patted Sonic on the shoulder.
“This is where my trackers tell me that Eggman’s set up, so this is where we set up!” Tails began to unload the sacks and boxes from the back of the plane, and sonic made a move to help him.
“Ugh!” Sonic stopped after a step, and stooped down to pluck off one of his shoes. He turned it upside down and both boys watched as an astonishing amount of sand poured out of the sole. Sonic coughed at the dust it kicked up on the beach. “This whole place is sand!” He complained. He was abruptly smacked in the face by something he assumed Tails had thrown at him.
“Sports tape?” He asked dubiously.
“Sports tape.” Tails confirmed.
“And what am I going to do with this?” He tossed it from hand to hand cheekily.
“Use it to tighten your shoes dummy!” Tails gave him a once-over. “And probably your gloves too, now help me carry some of this stuff!” The boys grabbed their equipment and walked it into the hut and adjoining garage that they had landed right by.
“It’s lucky for us that Eggman picked the island Amy was doing her research on,” Tails was saying, “Or maybe it’s not lucky…” He pondered.
Sonic thought of the Amy he remembered. The loud, hot-headed, sweet tempered girl who never missed an opportunity to remind Sonic that she loved him.
She had gone away about 3 years ago. Sent on a secret archaeological expedition that had sparked her love for history and a long period of silence as her work required secrecy. All of the team members received space letters from her from time to time, but Sonic had heard that she had made some discoveries that were required to be kept under wraps. He was… interested to see her again.
Yes, that was it. He was interested.
When she did come bounding up, Sonic nearly dropped his parcel into the sand.
She was absolutely beaming, and she stopped short for a second out of breath. She kept running however, and swept Tails up into a hug that Sonic could only describe as radiant. He felt a natural smile spread across his muzzle. Tails was laughing, Amy’s eyes were glowing. She kissed the fox jubilantly on the cheek and shook him a little bit in her excitement. She turned to Sonic, and he felt himself shrink somewhat under her smiling eyes.
3 years had changed her a lot. She wore a more practical, less goofydress with sports tape around the middle to match his own, as well as purple guards on her legs and wrists. He guessed she had figured out the trip to the sand too. She had a brown piece of cloth draped on her hips, tied into a kind of fanny pack which held some water. some rope, and tablet and a wood pencil.
She ran at Sonic without missing a step and hit him at full speed. Instead of being knocked back though, she met Sonic at the perfect time, her momentum carrying her up, into his arms perfectly. She sighed as Sonic stared down at her in complete surprise.
“Wow!” She sighed, “It’s been a while, eh?” She looked up at him and winked, “Sonikku?”
Sonic blushed. Why was he blushing?
She pulled away and the dust kicked up between them. Sonic coughed again. He hadn’t even said anything to her yet.
Amy pulled away from him and frowned. “That’s going to be a problem isn’t it?”
“W-what?” He asked. Smooth Sonic, real smooth.
“The dust-” Her eyes closed and Sonic began to get a little frightened.
“Aha!” She pulled out all the items from her make-shift satchel and set them hastily down in the sand. She took the cloth and ran around behind Sonic, who began to turn and follow her.
Strong but gentle hands turned him firmly back around.
Sonic tried to protest but she stopped him by yanking the fabric up and around his neck.
“That’ll keep the dust from getting in your nose when you run.” Amy came back around to the front of him, still smiling. “How is it?”
Sonic reached up and tugged at his new bandana instinctively. It smelled like ocean air and sweet fruit. Is this what she smelt like? Sonic lost his head for a second.
“It’s good… it’s good to… good to see you again Amy.” He finished weakly.
Amy’s smile became a bit more tame, and a little smug if he did say so himself.
Amy reached out a hand towards him, as if to shake it.
Sonic looked at her quizzically, taking it.
“It’s good to see you too Sonic.” and she took off, still holding his hand, towards the hut where Tails stood waiting for them.
Easter was all about family for you. Dean was gracious enough
to attend church with you and your father in the morning. After the church service
was over, your father and Dean disappeared out to the garage on your land to
take a look at and possibly do some work on the TransAm.
Sam and Jess were with Jess’s family all day, so you offered
to host Easter dinner, and invited Mary to spend the time with your family. It
would be the first time anyone from your two families would be spending anytime
together, but both you and Dean were looking forward to it.
You cooked a turkey, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables.
Your sister-in-law was bringing some sort of side casserole and deviled eggs,
and Mary offered to make a couple of pies for dessert.
You father and Dean still had not returned to the house when
Mary arrived, right on the heels of your brother’s family.
“Mary, come in,” you greeted, hugging her tightly. “This is my
brother Seth, my sister-in-law Kayla, and my handsome nephew, Eli. Guys, this
is Dean’s mother, Mary Winchester.”
“So nice to meet all of you,” Mary smiled, then shook Eli’s
chubby little hand. “Especially you, cutie.”
Kayla and Mary got to chatting about Eli and Sam and Jess’s
little bundle of joy, so you left them to visit and picked up your phone.
our way back.
The reply was so instantaneous, you wondered if perhaps the
two of you had sent the texts at the same time.
“Where’s Romeo?” Seth asked, leaning against the counter and
watching you work.
“At the garage. Beer in the fridge, if you want one.”
“Whose idea was it for them to spend time together alone?” He
went to the fridge and pulled out a beer for himself and one for you.
You frowned. “Um, Dean’s, I think. Why?”
Seth shrugged and put on that mischievous smile you’d seen
thousands of times, maybe more, since he was little. “Why would he want to talk
to Dad alone? Think about it, Sis.”
Groaning, you rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on. They went to
look at the car. They’re both into that kind of thing, and poor Dean has had to
work on it with me the whole time. I’m sure he wanted help from someone who has
more than a basic understanding of engines.”
Seth shrugged again and gave you a look that said you were
dense. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”
Phillip, the youngest of the three kids, arrived just minutes
before your father and Dean returned to the house. You introduced Phillip to
Mary and then dragged your father to where the older woman was on the floor,
playing with Eli.
“Mary, this is my dad, Mike. Dad, this is Dean’s mother, Mary.”
Mary stood and shook hands with your father; while they got
acquainted, you accosted Dean into the kitchen.
“Okay, listen, I have to ask this so I can stomach down some
dinner,” you started. “Seth was being a little shit, like he usually is, but he
kind of thought that maybe you wanted to get Dad alone at the garage so that
you could – I mean, I know he’s crazy, but Seth thought that maybe you were
going to – to ask Dad – ugh. I can’t even get this out.”
Dean smiled down at you before kissing you softly. “Babe, it’s
all right. I get what you’re trying to say. Yes, we did discuss my intentions
in this relationship, but I’m not going to be getting down on one knee anytime
You were both relieved and disappointed. “Okay. I’m sorry I
had to ask.”
“Never be sorry,” Dean replied, kissing you again. “Always
You grinned up at your boyfriend, joining hands with him so
the two of you could go into the living room where everyone was visiting and
announce that supper was ready. The introductions had gone smoothly, and as the
meal continued, it seemed that Mary was fitting into your family as seamlessly
as you had fit in with the Winchesters. You had no doubt that when Sam and Jess
were added to the mix, things would be just as easy.
Since the subject had come up, while you ate your pie, you
allowed your mind to wander to the time when Dean would get down on one knee, and your two families would become one.
It made your heart race, knowing it was something that you had to look forward