“Honey, I’m home.” She called out as she filled the two glasses. Picking them up she turned around, smirk plastered on her face.
Taking a sip from her own glass as she held the other out.
“Well welcome home Mrs Alvarez.” Said Shades taking the glass from her offering hand.
“Still with the Bourbon I see. Although it has clearly gotten more expensive.” Shades remarked swallowing the two fingers worth she had poured him.
Sighing at the comment, she rolled her eyes and tossed back her shot. “We here to play catch up or talk business?” She asked pouring herself another shot.
“Well I thought it might be nice to know what my wife has been up to since she abandoned me to rot.” He said casually setting his empty glass on a side table.
His words set her spine straight and her grip began to white knuckle around the tumbler. “I abandoned you?” She asked anger seeping into her tone as she turned to look at him.
Standing there he ran his right hand over his left rubbing the tips of his right fingers over his left ring finger. Making a frown with his mouth his eyebrows raised over the tops of his glasses and he shrugged.
Huffing and shaking her head at his gesture she tossed back her second shot, slamming the empty glass down. “What do you want Hernan?”
“Like I said, to know how my wife has been?” He remarked finally taking off the glasses and putting them in his breast pocket.
“Cut the shit.” She seethed. No one on earth could actually piss her off. Sure she would pretend to be angry when a client would make a stupid remark, but honestly she could care less.
Hernan ‘Shades’ Alvarez though? He could enrage her with a look. And oh how he loved to use that look on her.
Sighing he complied “Fine, as usual you win.” He smirked rewarding himself with another eyeroll. “You’ve been hired to kill Diamondback.” He walked around the room. “I work for Diamondback.” Shades turned his back to her as he walked looking around the parlor. “He wants me to kill you before you kill him… so.” Shades drew his gun but when he turned she was gone.
“Andreanna!!” He yelled out. From her spot in the hall she listened to him storm the house. Creeping down to the hall table she reached under it. ‘Shit’ she thought to herself, he found it.
Making her way to the spare room she hoped he hadn’t found all of her hiding spots. Entering the room she shut the door quietly before heading to the wardrobe in the corner. Opening the doors she removed the false bottom to reveal the safe underneath thanking God, she used her thumb to open the lock and pulled out two Smith and Wesson 9mm’s, and screwed on their suppressors. Shoving the extra magazines into her thigh holster for her knife. She got ready to stand when she heard movement from above. He was in the room upstairs.
Listening carefully she pointed the guns at the ceiling. 'Step step, stop.’ She fired four rounds from each gun up to the room above. When she stopped firing she was met with silence. A moment of sadness began to settle in as she thought she had just killed him but when she looked up through the holes he was looking down gun in hand.
She ran out of the way just in time as he rained his shots down from above. Running to the kitchen she listened with her ear to the wall for him to come down the stairs.
Anticipating her move he fired at the wall as he came down the stairs. Running she dodged the 12 Guage blasts as they came through the wall.
Halting his assult Shades listened for life.
Catching her breath she spoke up “I see you found my shotgun?”
“Yeah it’s nice. Little heavy in the butt, but it seems to help in a way.” He commented.
Lifting her head she saw the barrel pointed at her through on of the holes in the wall. Ducking quickly as another blast shot over her head. Rolling back down the wall she stuck her gun through another one of the holes and fired.
“Ahh!” Shades hollered out dropping the shot gun and holding his arm where she grazed him.
Peaking through the hole she just shot through she expected to see his body, but was met with an empty stair case. Huffing her disappointment she stood and began to creep around the house.
Using the shadows and his dark suit to his advantage Shades moved easily around the house. Watching out for where she may be. From the dining room he saw movement out the corner of his eye. Drawing his gun he stepped forward. “Ya know I gotta give it to you Dre, I didn’t think you had it in you.” He said. Causing her to take a sharp breath at the use of his nick name for her.
As a child everyone always used her full first name it wasn’t until she started high school and met Hernan Alvarez had anyone thought to shorten it. Only he called her that, ever.
Closing her eyes she tried to gather herself, unprepared for what emotion the sound of his name for her would bring up when spoken from his lips after all this time.
“You always seemed like the type to love and never let go. But you did let go. Didn’t you?” He knew that would push her and cause her to act out.
Turning from her position she slid across the hall into the living room firing down the in his direction. Only he wasn’t there. As she slid into the living room she was met with a small grenade rolling towards her. Her eyes went wide and she leaned back kicking her legs out from under her and at the small bomb, effectively knocking it into the fireplace across the room.
Scrambling to her feet she looked for her guns just as she heard steps approaching from behind. Ripping the rope from the curtains she stepped back.
Walking in, gun raised, Shades looked around the charred room only to have his gun knocked from his hand. Using his disorientation to her advantage she jumped on his back wrapping the rope around his neck. She held tight as he tride to fight for air.
Shades ran backwards slamming her back into the wall. Once, twice, on the third blow she lost her grip and he spun her over his shoulder and to the ground. Landing one, then two kicks. On his third strike she caught his foot, twisting his ankle causing him to fall onto his back on the floor.
Quickly, she climbed on top of him strattling his chest. She drew back and punched him. Jab, Jab, cross. Jab, Jab, caught.
Shades grabbed her wrist pulling her down and flipping them over. Practically nose to nose he pinned her arms down over her head. Panting he couldn’t resist looking down to her lips then back to her eyes. Neither one seeing the others action as she too did the same.
“It would appear you found all my toys.”
“It was just a little bomb baby.” He smirked
“And this is just my little knee.” She smirked back, at his crinkled brow. Drawing her leg up she kneed him right where it would hurt.
Groaning he fell forward releasing her arms. Now free, Red elbowed him across his cheek and pushed him off of her.
Groaning as she rolled over she spotted one of her guns on the floor and crawled to it. Shades tride to catch his breath from the shock of the low blow he had received.
He saw something black and shiny just infront of him. Crawling over he picked it up. It was one of Red’s 9mm’s. Checking the mag he saw two rounds and turned to stand.
Just as she turned and stood. Facing off they each held a gun on the other. Wanting nothing more than to end this, Shades squeezed his gun but couldn’t do it when something gold caught his eye.
Somewhere in the fight the mesh of her dress had torn and out fell a gold chain. With a gold men’s band hanging over her breasts, hanging over her heart.
Seeing him notice it her eyes began to gloss over.
“I can’t… I can’t.” He said dropping his gun.
“No!” She yelled thrusting her gun forward. “Pick it up!” He stared into her blue and red rimmed eyes shaking his head no. “You don’t get to leave me then act like you give a shit a decade and a half later you son of a bitch! Now PICK IT UP!”
He couldn’t do it. After all he put her through she still carried a torch for him just as he did for her.
Stepping forward the barrel of her gun touched his throat. She kept the gun on his neck even as he stepped closer. Wrapping his large hand around the back of her soft small neck he tangled his fingers in her silky onyx tresses. The cold barrel dug in as he pulled her to him and he crashed his lips to hers.
Melting into the man that she has waited nearly 15 years for felt like nothing short of a long lost dream. Dropping her gun to the floor she wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands made their way to her ass. Squeezing he lifted her up and slammed her into the wall behind them.
Both still frustrated over unanswered questions, but too caught up in the moment to ask them. They took it out on each other.
Biting down hard, Red caused a growl to leave his chest and blood to drip from his lip. Pulling her back he slammed her into the wall again, harder than before. Forcing a picture to fall from its place and shatter to the floor.
Pulling her from the wall again he slammed her down onto a side table just inside the hall way. Reaching down Shades grabbed either side of the slit she had cut in the cab to allow her to fight freely, and pulled it apart. Ripping the dress in half.
Taking a moment to look down at her he saw shear nude colored lace covering her chest and black lace boy shorts down lower. She was just as perfect as he remembered her. It was as if time stopped just on her so that he could have her as she had always been in his memories. Wrapping her legs around him she pulled him to her as he ripped off his suit jacket.
Reaching between them she forced open his shirt, buttons flew every where. Pushing him back a bit she looked down at his sculpted body the same way he had admired hers. He was all seemingly smooth lines but to the touch he was all hard, with edges.
Giving her a moment to appreciate him he met her eyes as she drew her gaze over him and back up. Once they locked stares he applied his hand to her throat and pushed her back against the wall, kissing her fiercely. Tangling the fingers of his other hand in the black lace of her underwear, Shades ripped it from her body.
Her fingers worked at his belt and slacks pushing them down so he sprung free.
Before she could even touch him he slapped her hands away and grabbed ahold of himself. There was no teasingn no few pumps of his hand, or a check if she was ready. He just lined himself up to her center and thrust forward. “FUCK Dre” He moaned.
Feeling the power of him shock through her body a tear slipped from her eye. Weather it was from finally being with the one person she had ever loved after all this time. Weather she just had debris in her eye from the fight. If it was just that powerful of a thrust, she didn’t know but she did know she wasn’t letting it go again.
Looking at her face leaned back he wiped a single tear from her cheek never letting up his pace. He rocked into her hard and fast. Watching her bite her own lip to keep from screaming out drove him to an edge he had not reached in 15 years.
Picking her back up she wrapped herself around him. Walking while still inside of her she would lift her hips to slide along him as he made his way to the spare room of the downstairs hall, where just moments before they had tried to kill one another.
Entering the room he threw her off of him and onto the bed. Kicking off his shoes and shoving down his pants the rest of the way he watched her. She rolled over and watched him finish stripping as she bit her lip and pulled off what was left of her dress and her bra.
Once the tattered material he once called a shirt was finally gone he dove for her.
Seeing her there layed out on the old quilt of the bed. Her hair fanned around her, her beautiful eyes looking at him the same way they had their last night together over a decade ago. He couldn’t help it. Running his fingertips over her cheek and his thumb over her lips he mumbled “I still love you.”
Tears filled her eyes as she took a shaky breath “I never stopped.” She whispered out.
Kissing her slow and deep he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers trying and failing to catch his breath he panted. “I am so sorry baby, I am so damn sorry. Fuck, I love you.” He sounded so lost and broken as he positioned himself to enter her again.
Sucking in a ragged breath when he thrust forward. She let it go with a barely audible “I love you.”
This time taking it slow and savoring the moment he took still strong, but slower, deeper strokes while he worked his lips and toung over every bit of her they could reach.
She tasted like a life thought to be lost to him. He felt like a life long awaited by her.
They loved and returned to one another long into the night before collapsing into the first real nights sleep either one had been able to have in half a lifetime.
this idea hit me while driving to work. I blame weird logos for unrelated businesses and binging on Brooklyn 99. an Outlaw Queen surprise for @idoltina
A chime sounded somewhere in the back of the store, breaking the otherwise silent gun range. Regina took a breath to calm her nerves, then squared her shoulders and marched to the counter. No one seemed to be manning the desk, but she figured – hoped – that the door alarm had signaled whichever slacker was working today to take her business.
“Sorry, sorry –” A British accent cut through her thoughts, somewhere in a back room. “Be right there!”
Regina allowed herself to drum her nails against the glass case once before distracting herself by inspecting the guns for rent. She didn’t bring her own – wasn’t allowed to have hers back until she passed the requalification – and it irked her to have to borrow one that would likely be too… unpolished. Battered. Uncared for.
Having a firearm was not a particular favorite of being a detective, but the one she did have was regularly cleaned, adjusted, and fit in her hand like an extension of herself.
She looked up as a man came out of the back room, apologizing all the while. She took him in as she might a suspect in a case – medium height for a man, sandy brown hair, blue eyes, scruffy beard, dressed for the outdoors – and waited for him to stop speaking. “I need to rent time on the range,” she said shortly. “Nine mil should be fine for now. And I need a spotter. I’m on limited time, so I don’t need someone chatty or who thinks they know how to fire a weapon better than me. Are we clear?”
Designed as the Second model Hand Ejector, upgraded c.1917 to supply the US expeditionary force with standardized .45ACP guns during WW1. .45ACP six-round cylinder, reloaded using two half-moon three-round clips, swing out double action. Seen here with a neat ammo pouch and a cartridge box. Not a Colt M1917, always second guess what you read on the internet.
You are a newly graduated MBA student trying to get a highly sought-after job at Wesson Technology. You have spent your life proving to people that there is more to you than your Omega status. Will billionaire tech genius and Alpha Sam Wesson take a chance on you?
Characters: Alpha! Sam Wesson, Alpha! Dean Smith, Omega! Reader, Beta! Charlie Bradbury, Beta! Ruby, Omega! Castiel Novak, Beta! Kevin Tran, Omega! Jo Harvelle
Why on earth did I tell Sam I would start Monday? What was I thinking? That gave me just one day to get my act together before I started at Wesson. I glanced at my phone as I drank my coffee, and saw I had a new text.
Dean: I need to talk to you. Call me
As much as I didn’t want to deal with this right now, I called him. He sounded like hell when he answered.
“Hey Dean. It’s me. “Are you okay?” As if I didn’t already know the answer.
“Look Y/N, last night I said some stuff…” He began.
“Yeah you did. Can I come over so we can talk? I’
ll bring you coffee.”
Dean was a sucker for good coffee. “Yes, please. The stronger the better.”
An hour later I was standing at Dean’s door holding two steaming coffees. I knocked twice and he opened the door.
“Stop knocking so loud!” He said, clutching his head. He was a little pale, and he had major bedhead, but otherwise he looked fine. More than fine actually. I caught myself admiring the way his arms looked in the tight gray t-shirt he wore. What was with me openly drooling over men lately? If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was going into heat, but it definitely wasn’t time for that.
We sat down in his living room and I handed him the coffee. He took a giant sip. “So….You want to explain to me what last night was all about, Dean?” I said quietly.
Dean rubbed his hand over his face. “Listen Y/N, you’re a great friend, and I thought I’d convinced myself that you being an Omega didn’t matter. But it does. I thought we would be able to friends and it wouldn’t be an issue. But when I’m around you…. I can’t always…. when Wesson was looking at you like that…..” Suddenly he stopped talking and just looked at me.
He wasn’t really making any sense. I looked at Dean, trying not to let him see the tears that were welling up in my eyes. “Do you not want to be my friend anymore, Dean?” I said in a choked whisper.
His eyes were locked with mine, and his green eyes were hard. “You don’t get what I’m saying. When I knew you were going out with Wesson, I couldn’t stand it. When I’m with you…..I can’t…….I just……..”
Apparently Dean got frustrated with trying to find the right words so he just decided to show me instead. Half a second later he had pushed me back on the couch, his strong hands holding my shoulders while his mouth devoured mine.
He wasn’t at all gentle, all that pent up sexual frustration bursting out of him. I was frozen in shock for a minute, but then my hands creeped up and locked around his neck, pulling him closer. This was a surprise yes, but a really good one. This man could really kiss. When we finally broke away from each other, panting and wide-eyed, neither of us said anything for a moment.
He spoke first. “This is what I have been trying to tell you. I don’t want to be just friends. I want more.”
Manufactured by Smith and Wesson c.1989-today. .44 Magnum six-round swing-out cylinder, double action. Made to be “carried often and shot little”, because hopefully you won’t get attacked by bear people too often.
Manufactured by Smith and Wesson starting in 1896. .32 S&W Long six-round swing-out cylinder, double action. The first swing-out revolver produced by Smith and Wesson. Also called the Model 1 or M1896.
From this request: Sam x reader / Brother!Dean x reader AU where reader is deans little sister and Sam is another hunter and they meet on a hunt and Dean is protective as hell when Sam and reader show interest in each other but realizes they’re okay together
To say that Dean was protective was an understatement. He’d felt it was his duty to watch after you ever since you were born, a mere four years after Dean. He watched over you, catching you when you fell, kissing your ‘boo-boos’. He was constantly there to help you and make you feel better.
You loved Dean just as much. As soon as you could crawl, you were always going after him. When you woke up from your naps, you would whine and fuss until Dean showed up. You were a feisty little girl and always wanted to run around with him. John had chided the two of you for roughhousing at least once a week.
It was Dean who trained you to hunt, taught you to shoot. He knew that he would follow in his father’s footsteps and couldn’t help but hope you would, too. Over time, Dean saw that you had a mind for education and began to wonder if the hunter’s life was really for you.
The day of your high school graduation was one of the proudest moments for Dean. He clapped and cheered as you crossed that stage. You ran into Dean’s arms as the rest of the class threw their caps in the air, hugging your brother tight.
“Come on,” you said, smiling up at him. “Let’s go.”
“Join Dad on that werewolf hunt.”
“What? Y/N, we don’t–” Dean stopped, watching you strip the graduation robe off. Your typical flannel and jeans were underneath. “Y/N, come on. It’s the day of your graduation.”
“I know. This finally means I can dedicate all my time to the family business.” You reached down and grabbed Dean’s hand. “Let’s go!”
Dean couldn’t help but smile as you pulled him out of the school.
Dean raised his gun, as did the man with the shaggy brown hair. The two stared each other down.
“You infected?” the man asked, his voice deep, gun trained on the spot in between Dean’s eyes.
The man shook his head. “Prove it.”
Dean slowly revealed his unbitten skin to the stranger, rolling his sleeves and pant legs up, pulling the hem of his shirt up to his neck, one hand always around the gun. “Now you.”
The man did the same. You rushed around the corner just as the man turned, his abs on display.
“Whoa,” you said, mirroring your brother.
The man dropped his shirt. “Who’s this?”
“My sister. She’s clean, too.” Dean turned to you. “Right?”
You nodded, pulling your eyes away from the stranger’s now covered torso. “I think I saw the zombie heading for the woods.”
The three of you headed off, towards the tree line.
“So, um,” you said, eyes darting to the stranger. “Who’s your new friend?”
“Oh. This is…”
“Sam,” the man said, holding a hand out to you. “Sam Wesson.”
You slipped your hand into his. It was warm and strong, just like your brother’s.
But the sparks you were feeling were new.
Dean also noticed the sparks, the attraction he saw in your eyes and in Sam’s, but he pushed the thought from his mind. He had bigger things to think about at the moment… like the brain-dead zombie who was lurching around ten feet in front of him.
You found Sam standing outside of your room when you pulled into the motel.
“Hey,” he said. “I, uh, didn’t know what you liked, so…”
You and Dean glanced down and saw four different six-packs stacked next to Sam’s feet.
“And you were worried he wouldn’t fit in,” you joked, elbowing Dean.
Dean rolled his eyes and unlocked the door. The three of you settled into the room, Dean and Sam sitting at the table, you sitting cross-legged on the bed. During the meal, Dean noticed the eye contact you and Sam were sharing. That protective edge reared up in him, but he tried to swallow it down with beer.
After a while, Sam stood. “I should get going.”
“My brother has something he wants to ask you,” you said.
Dean glared at you before turning to Sam. “Listen… you were good out there. If you maybe wanted to… join us… you could.”
Sam considered. His eyes darted to you before answering. “Sure. Sounds… good.”
“Great. We’ll head out around eight.”
Sam nodded before stepping from the room. Dean watched as you headed into the bathroom before stepping out after Sam.
Sam turned, brow raised.
“If you touch my sister… I’ll end you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of hurting her.”
“That’s not what I said.”
Sam studied Dean. “Right. Look, if you don’t want me to come along…”
Dean shook his head. “No, Y/N is right. We could use you on our side. But it’s just…” Dean sighed. “She’s all I got, man. I’ve been looking out for her her whole life and it’s just…”
The corner of Sam’s mouth raised. “I promise, I won’t hurt her. I won’t let you down.”
Dean nodded, his lips pressed tight. “Right. Well… see you in the morning, then.”
You were standing by the bed when Dean stepped back into the room. “Did you threaten to cut his balls off?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
You moved to Dean, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Dean, you know I love you. But you don’t always have to play the mean older brother.”
Summary: AU!Professor!Sam where Sam Wesson is falling for his student, but their relationship is forbidden, and not only because she’s his student.
Characters: Sam x Reader
Word Count: 2,310
A/N: This is for therealcap, whose fic was long overdue! I hope you like, darling! Here is one of your many requests ^^ Thank you to my dear one inlieus for her help, I wouldn’t have done it without you! I want to continue it, so let me know what you guys think! Enjoy!
People seem to like this still. And I REALLY need to write something that’s not depressing because SO MANY of my metas right now are just simply and irrevocably depressing. So I’m writing another chapter of this. I’m kind of glad people still like this. This is a fun project to work on.
Dean could hear Donna scream giddily as she clung onto that letter of hers as if she’d die if she let go. The paper was a light pink and suspiciously familiar for some odd reason. There was the scent of cotton candy wafting through the air from the letter and small bursts of light that seemed like fireworks were hidden from view from everyone due to the letter being held up at such an angle.
“Let me guess,” said Dean, nibbling on a piece of bacon, “Sam Wesson, right?”
She glanced around nervously.
“Am I really that obvious?” whispered Donna, trying to hold in a smile.
Bobby groaned from his corner, glaring at Donna.
“Yeah,” said Bobby John, his hair color changing erratically, “Yeah, you are.”
Donna glanced at him, confused.
“You should be happy for me, you know?” said Donna, “I’ve got the best boyfriend in the whole world.”
Dean raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so?” Dean asked reluctantly.
Donna turned to him, all smiles. She nodded.
“I do,” she said, folding her letter up carefully, “He said he’ll come here tonight. We’ll sneak out and have a midnight picnic.”
Dean wasn’t sure if he was okay with that. A midnight picnic with a person who no one in Durmstrang has said they knew who pulled out of Durmstrang halfway through the year for a mysteriously devastating disease that was miraculously curing quite quickly. It was all just a bit too fishy for his tastes.
“Is he well enough to attend this impromptu picnic of his?” asked Dean, trying not to sound too distrustful.
He could see that Donna was trying not to glare.
“He’s been getting better every day, but his parents want him to rest. He gets weak.”
“Yeah…sure he is,” said Dean.
Donna was not hiding her anger well. Dean definitely failed on that whole ‘trying not to sound distrustful’ thing.
“If you’re so worried about it, I’ll do something for you,” said Donna as she took out a sheet of parchment and scribbled on it, “I’ll get him to have a conversation with you. Before the date. We’re still going to go on that date, don’t get me wrong, but maybe if you talk to the guy, you’ll see he’s a good guy.”
“Do you really want me to interrogate your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day? I’m not gonna go easy on him, you know that, right?” asked Dean.
“As long as it stops you from giving those judgmental looks every time I bring him up, I will do anything. Merlin’s Beard, I’d do a one man band for you if it did. Just talk to him and I’m sure you’ll love him.”
“Fine,” grumbled Dean, “I’ll talk to him, but remember, you were the one who asked for this, not me. If I hate him more, I blame you.”
Donna grinned once more.
“Thank you, Dean. This really means a lot to me,” said Donna.
Dean couldn’t help but smile back.
“I’m glad this makes at least someone happy,” said Dean.
Donna gave the letter to an owl. She watched it dreamily as it flew off. Dean rolled his eyes.
“What’s your deal anyways, Dean? Don’t have a valentine or something?” asked Donna.
Bobby barked out a laugh.
“Dean?” Bobby spat, “Not having a valentine? Yeah, right, girls are groveling over you like you’re the last salted caramel milkshake in the world. That’s funny.”
“Hey, I never said I had a -”
And as if on cue, a plethora of chocolates, flowers, and cards piled on top of Dean’s plate, owls swarming him so closely that there seemed to be a storm cloud of feathers above Dean to the casual passerby.
“- any valentines.”
Dean stared at the pile falling off the table in slight disbelief. Dean didn’t really think he was that popular. Not with all the weird things he’d done since he came to Hogwarts.
“Well, it’s going to be a sad day for a lot of ladies,” said Dean, “'cause I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”
“Boyfriend then?” piped up Donna quickly.
“Wait-what? No, uh, I’m not looking for a relationship at all,” said Dean, confused as to why Donna would ask that.
“Why?” asked Bobby incredulously, “I mean, Dean, you’ve got at least thirty girls in that pile of love. Why not at least look at one of them?”
“Because I don’t have time for a relationship. What with keeping up with my grades and making sure Sam’s fine, I can’t just start a relationship, especially since my stay here’s still a bit shaky. I don’t know if my dad’s going to just appear at night randomly and drag me out of here, and what then? Leave the girl without a word? That wouldn’t be fair to either of us,” said Dean.
“Dean Winchester, you should at least live a little while you have the chance,” huffed Donna, “Now open one of those letters. It doesn’t mean you’ll go out with the person, but at least read it and make sure these aren’t weird valentine related death threats.”
“Fine. I’ll friggin’ open one, but just one, okay?” grumbled Dean, grabbing a random one from the stack.
It was a decently plain letter, which seemed less intimidating compared to many of the intricately designed ones laying in front of Dean. There was a slight scent of new car and leather, which was sort of nice to Dean, to tell the truth. He hated the fact that his friends had noticed the unconscious smile that crawled onto his face without his say in it. Dean opened the letter and began to read.
~ Will You Be My Not Valentine? ~
Dean blinked, a bit confused. Who would send a valentine card that started with that? Dean continued to read, now curious about the contents.
You seem like a great guy, Dean Winchester, and with all those ladies throwing their hearts out at you today, I wanted to give you a reason to decline a date for today or avoid the confessions at all costs. So, would you be my Not Valentine? Being my Not Valentine entails:
- Hanging out with me all day today
- Avoiding mobs of love crazed girls
- Me being a taste tester of all your chocolates (Who knows, they may all be poisoned and I may have to eat them all to save your life!)
- Making fun of grossly lovey-dovey couples
- Not doing anything romantic whatsoever
Here are your choices
Send me this via owl or give it to me personally, please.
Your Not Valentine Always,
Dean couldn’t help but smiled.
“Well, Merlin’s beard,” said Dean, grabbing Donna’s pen and checking off YES, “This may just be an offer I can’t refuse.”
“So you’ve got a Valentine, then?”
Dean laughed, shaking his head.
“Nope,” Dean said calling his idiot owl over and handing Bones the letter, “I’ve just got myself a 'Not Valentine’.”
Donna’s grin turned into a line.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Donna.
“Not quite sure, but I’d gladly take this over love at the moment. Besides, love…I’m not ready for thoughts on that right now,” said Dean truthfully.
He didn’t know why, he just wasn’t. And that was okay with him. He just didn’t want that kind of hurt in his life, not when he knew that odds were, it was going to end in pain for he and whoever he dated.
Dean felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced behind him to see Aaron, waving the letter.
“I see that you have conceded to my offer,” said Aaron.
Dean grinned, standing up.
“How could I not? I mean, seriously, I don’t think I could eat this much chocolate alone anyways.”
Aaron grabbed a handful of the bags and put them in his messenger.
“Nice to hear.”
Dean turned to Donna and Bobby.
“I’ll see you guys later,” said Dean, putting his arm around Aaron’s shoulder.
“Yeah, laters,” Aaron said, “We’ve got some Bueller-esque Shenanigans and Risky Business sliding in our underwear to do.”
The two, who would obviously not understand any of the muggle references, looked confused which only made Aaron laugh harder as they went on their way.
“You want us to slide around the Castle in our underwear?” asked Dean, holding in snickers.
“Come on, Dean,” said Aaron, “Everyone would love to see you in your underwear, your shirt buttoned one button off, your tie on your head, wearing big sunglasses as you dance and lip sing to Old Time Rock n’ Roll. Hell, you could skip out on the socks and rip off the shirt in the end, if you want, I’m sure everyone will go wild for that.”
“You are a ruiner, you know that?” said Dean as they walked out of the Great Hall, “A ruiner of people. There are children at this school.”
“And all their wet dreams will be about that crazy Hufflepuff stripping to a song they don’t know, dancing a reference they would never understand.”
Dean couldn’t help but laugh.
“I don’t think that’s a good thing,” said Dean.
“You might be right,” whispered Aaron “You may not want your friend to get too jealous. Speaking of friends…”
Dean saw Cas running up to him, glancing from Dean to Aaron.
“What’s…what’s going on?” asked Cas, glaring at Aaron.
“Nothing indecent, if you’re thinking that, though, we might get a bit ribald,” said Aaron, moving his leg up so that his knee was on Dean’s midsection, his arms wrapping around Dean’s shoulders as if it was the end of some tango number in a dance contest.
It made everything that much more awkward. Dean could only laugh nervously.
“Get off of Dean,” said Cas.
“And on what authority? The Queen of England? I don’t abide by the Church’s words, you know, I’m sort of an anarchist that way.”
Dean could only shrug, not trusting himself to laugh if he opened his mouth. Cas just kept glaring at Aaron.
“Cas, he’s just joking, man,” said Dean.
Cas kept glaring.
From the corner of his eye, Dean could see April walk up.
“We need to talk - It’s important,” said April.
Cas glanced from April to Dean to Aaron, then back again.
“Looks like you’re going to be busy, Cas,” said Dean, “You better check it out. You know, for the task or whatever.”
Cas gave Dean an apologetic look.
“I’ll - I’ll talk to you later, Dean,” said Cas, walking over to April reluctantly.
“Last time he said that,” Dean said dejectedly, “He didn’t talk to me for a week.”
Aaron rubbed Dean’s back.
“Well, who cares what that dork does? You’ll be having such a good time with me that you might just forget who’s making you so sad.”
Dean smiled bittersweetly.
“Cas who?” said Dean halfheartedly.
“That’s the spirit! Now, if only we could get more umph into that 'Cas who?’, then I can say I’ve truly done good work.”
“You can try,” said Dean.
“Oh, but Dean Winchester,” said Aaron, his grin just growing wider, “I tend to succeed at things I try at.”
Dean shook his head, unsure of what to think of this short, strange guy who seemed to make it his life purpose to make Dean not think about Cas and how Cas wasn’t hanging out with him.
“You’re a strange guy if I ever saw one, you know that, Aaron Bass?”
“And I’ll be here all day,” said Aaron.
Dean couldn’t help but laugh.
“Why do you think I, Lysander Scamander, love you, Lily Luna Potter?” said Aaron in a mock gravelly voice.
Dean glanced at the couple. They were a year ahead of them and famous in their own right. Famous kids date famous kids, it always seemed to be. Dean, deadpan, groped his pectorals.
“My boobs,” Dean said flatly.
For a moment they just glanced at the two rich kids as they stared deeply into one another’s eyes.
“Five galleons they kiss,” mumbled Aaron.
The girl slapped Lysander, stomping off, leaving him with melodramatic teary eyes. Dean couldn’t help but snicker at the scene.
“Looks like you owe me five galleons.”
“That’s what I get for believing in love,” said Aaron.
“Now, you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself,” said Dean, “You see, word is Lily Luna over there - still got the hots for that godchild of her father’s Teddy, even though he's way too old for her and is going to marry her cousin Victoire Weasley. But you see, Scorpius Malfoy has befriended her recently and odds are, they might, you know, hook up. That is, if Lucy Weasley doesn’t step up her game and ask him out first. Not to mention the fact that Lorcan Scamander, who’s dating Lucy at the moment, has no idea that she has the hots for his best friend.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow.
“You know a lot of gossip,” said Aaron.
“Word gets around, and when you’re friends with Garth, King of Information, and well, you hear some hearsay.”
“Ooh, maybe I should become better friends with that Garth guy,” said Aaron.
Dean rolled his eyes.
“He doesn’t swing that way, buddy.”
Aaron devilishly smiled.
“Oh, not yet, he doesn’t,” said Aaron.
Dean choked on spit.
“Uh, he also has a girlfriend right now. Bess Myers,” said Dean.
Aaron kept smiling.
“Just means I’ll have to make a new BFF with that Hufflepuff a year ahead of you. Not hard. Ladies love hanging out with me,” said Aaron.
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” said Dean.
“I’m so glad that I’m not part of that Potter-Weasley business, though. Everyone sucked up in that ends up getting complicated relationships,” said Aaron.
“Not to mention all that Romeo-Juliet stuff with the Weasley girls and that one Malfoy kid. Merlin’s beard, I swear, it’s really ridiculous how much drama they have,” Dean agreed.
“Yeah, I’m sure you have too much drama in your life already, then?” said Aaron casually.
“Sort of. Let’s just say my stay here is temporary and not by my accord. I could be stolen away from this place at any moment. I’m just counting the seconds until it happens,” said Dean.
“That why you haven’t, well…”
Dean didn’t want to think about that.
“I…I don’t uh…”
“You don’t have to say it, Dean. Just know that it’s stupid. I mean, that piece of pie looks pretty tasty and just having a bite wouldn’t kill you,” said Aaron.
“I’m worried about what happens to the pie if it’s slapped out of my hands and left on the ground as I’m dragged off to fight the supposed forces of evil.”
Aaron laughed a bit.
“Now, that’s a strangely specific metaphor.”
Dean couldn’t look Aaron in the eyes.
“I’m fine with you not talking about it Dean,” said Aaron, “But that doesn’t mean, well…something casual can’t happen with someone else, right?”
Before Dean could say anything to that, something tackled Dean to the ground, hugging him.
It was so deadpan that Dean could help but snort.
“Hey, Cas,” said Dean as the awkward guy just stayed there, sprawled over him with octopus hands clinging onto him, “This is nice and all, but stone isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to lay on.”
Cas moved off of Dean and helped him up.
“Sorry,” grumbled Cas, staring suspiciously at Aaron.
“So, what’s up, Cas? Me and Aaron are kind of in the middle of something,” said Dean.
“We’re predicting what people are saying in their confessions and the outcome,” Aaron said, “You wouldn’t believe all the stuff Dean knows about Hogwarts gossip, I swear, he’s cheated me out of twenty galleon already, the dubious man.”
Cas kept looking nervously from Dean to Aaron. Even Dean was slightly surprised when Aaron put his hand in Dean’s back pocket. Cas grabbed Dean’s wrist.
“I need to talk to you. Alone.”
And without a word of agreement on Dean’s part, Cas shuffled Dean away from Aaron. Before Dean could even say a word, Cas started the conversation.
“I don’t want you to be valentines with Aaron, Dean, it doesn’t feel right,” said Cas.
“And why’s that?” asked Dean, crossing his arms, “You think you have a say on who I choose to be my valentine or not?”
This was definitely not Cas’ forte, Dean could tell. Feelings. It wasn’t really Dean’s either, but Cas seemed especially awkward on the matter.
“I…I just don’t want you with him is all,” mumbled Cas, “Not Aaron.”
Dean rolled his eyes.
“If you have to know, Aaron’s my Not Valentine,” said Dean.
Cas blinked, clearly confused.
“Not Valentine. He’s hanging out with me so that I can avoid all the frigging people who sent me stuff today. It was actually pretty nice of him,” remarked Dean.
“So…not your valentine?” asked Cas, as if he had forgotten the last twenty seconds of the conversation.
“Yes. That’s kind of what 'not valentine’ implies,” said Dean.
Cas’ whole body, once ridged, seemed to deflate of tension before Dean’s eyes, relaxing as Cas gave him a small smile.
“Okay,” said Cas, “I guess that’s fine.”
“You don’t get a say in who I date and who I don’t date, though, Cas,” said Dean, feeling like he at least needed to say this, “You don’t have any pull on that. I’m just not dating because I’m choosing not to date. Because it’s just not a good time for me to date. You understand that, right?”
Cas looked a bit disheartened by the news.
“Oh…yeah, of course,” said Cas.
Dean could hear Aaron calling him back.
“Got to go, Cas. Looks like Roxanne Weasley’s about to ask that Dursley kid out. Unbeknownst to Aaron, I already know the Dursley’s secretly going out with that Smith kid, the one a year older than us who’s supposedly descended from Helga Hufflepuff herself.”
Cas tilted his head.
“Why does that matter?”
“Matters when it comes to a five more galleons in my pocket. See you later, Cas.”
Dean glared at Sam Wesson. He was tall. Too tall. He had long flowing locks that would dazzle anyone into awe-inspiring groveling. They were too fabulous of locks. He seemed to be the epitome of all that was a moose. He was too moose-y. Dean did not trust this Sam Wesson guy. He did not trust him one bit.
“Sam, Dean, I’m sure you remember each other from, uh, the Yule Ball. And when Dean walked me to you last time you came to Hogsmeade. Uh…I think I left my purse in my room. I’ll, just, uh…I’ll get that.”
Donna scurried away, giving Dean the evil eye just in case Dean forgot how annoyed she was at his complete suspicion of her boyfriend.
“So, Sam Wesson, huh?”
This Sam guy shifted awkwardly in nervous fidgeting, very familiar nervous fidgeting.
“Yup. Sam Wesson. That’s my name. Definitely my name,” said Sam, nervously laughing.
“What’s your favorite food then, Sam Wesson?” asked Dean, narrowing his eyes.
“Not peanut butter and banana sandwiches or anything like that. Totally not,” said Sam Wesson.
“That…that wasn’t really the question,” said Dean, “What about greatest fears?”
“Not CLOWNS, that’s for sure! Yup, really love clowns,” said Sam.
Dean glared it the guy. He wished frigging Sam Wesson wasn’t so tall, then Dean could have made himself a bit more intimidating by looming over him.
“Something’s up with you, and I’m going to find out soon enough. Might as well tell me what you’re hiding before I figure it out myself,” said Dean.
Before Dean could get a response from the guy, Donna walked back down with her purse in hand.
“Come on, Sam, let’s get out of here. Sorry about Dean, he’s just cautious, even though I told him he didn’t have to be,” said Donna, herding the big moose of a man out of the Hufflepuff common room.
Dean sighed, hoping that he was wrong about that tall dork. He was happy that Donna was happy, he just couldn’t help that he had this feeling in the back of his mind that told him that something was up with that moose.
Instead of stewing in his thoughts underground, Dean decided to take a walk outside, clear his mind. He walked through the hallways, wondering if his father was going to take him away, or certainly when his father was going to take him away because it was a certainty after all. Dean knew he could never trust anything that was too good to be true, as long as the wizard with the yellow eyes was still out there and his father was still hyped up on revenge.
Dean blinked as he turned to find Cas walking up to him.
“Hey, there. What are you doing walking about? Isn’t curfew going to start soon?” asked Dean, lazily smiling.
“I could ask the same of you, Dean,” said Cas, “Besides, I was hoping I could find you.”
“Why?” asked Dean curiously.
Cas glanced from side to side.
“Come with me,” said Cas.
Instead of taking Dean’s wrist, Cas took Dean’s hand this time. Dean allowed the sudden intrusion and held tightly onto the hand as Cas guided the two of them to a little used hallway.
“What is it, Cas?” asked Dean.
As Cas stepped closer to Dean, Dean stepped away from Cas, until finally Dean was basically pinned to the wall by Cas.
Cas’ eyes were focused completely and utterly on Dean. It made Dean nervous. Not nervous in a bad way, no, more of a giddy way, and Dean wasn’t quite sure if that was the best thing to feel.
There was a sound from one side of the hall. Cas jumped a bit, putting his arms on either side of Dean as if to either protect Dean or box him as if he were a terrified animal who would run away at the smallest of sounds. Whatever the sound was passed and it left Cas breathing into Dean’s neck. Dean felt heat rise in him despite himself. Cas moved away and Dean almost regretted that there wasn’t another sound that would bring Cas back to that position, closer to him, bringing Dean warmth.
The moonlight hitting Cas made him almost ethereal, as if he were something celestial and Dante-esque, as if he was all that encompassed a being of Paradiso.
“What?” asked Dean quietly, almost hypnotically, all the letters in that one word melting like warm butter into soft sounds.
And all Dean could look at was the messy black hair, the pulling blue eyes, those lips. All Dean could think about was how close Cas was, how there were probably only a few centimeters between the two of them. The oddest part was that it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. It was the opposite, in fact. It was as if Dean had always been there, this close to Cas. It felt like home and distancing himself from that space would be a crime against everything holy in this world. Cas’ eyes were so pleading.
And suddenly the distance between their lips receded and Dean didn’t remember when he closed his eyes, but warmth was spreading through him like nothing else, and he couldn’t stop his arms from grabbing onto Cas’ back, his hair. It was long and deep and Dean could barely breathe when Cas pulled away, could barely see.
“I don’t think you have to stop yourself from loving just because you think your father will take you away,” said Cas, new courage and energy bursting out of him, “In fact, I don’t think you should ever worry about your father again. Because I would never allow your father to just take you away like that again. You’re not some kidnapped princess, Dean, you get choices in life, and I believe some choices are worth fighting for. You can tell me your answer tomorrow.”
Cas turned and began to run. For a few moments, Dean tried to get his bearings, let his mind catch up and register. Dean was going to try to run, but instead stupidly tripped. He got up quickly and ran to the edge of the hallway, seeing Cas swiftly walk halfway down the adjacent hallway.
“Yes!” shouted Dean, “Yes, you weird little nerd!”
Cas stopped, turning to Dean.
“Why wait till tomorrow?” shouted Dean, “I choose yes!”