#half chapter

  “Yup. You know, you’ve asked me that five times in the last seven minutes. I’ve been counting,” I answer, pointing and circling my french fry at her. 

  We drove for at least eight hours straight, getting as far away from Maryland as possible. Now, we’re somewhere in Kentucky, stopping for the rest of the day in a random motel we found. We’ll probably leave late at night or early in the morning to make some more distance, or we’ll stay until we find our next hunt. As for now, we’re eating McDonald's around the motel table. 

  “You got shot. What the fuck do you expect me to ask?” she bites back, stealing the fry from my hand and tossing it onto a napkin by her drink. 

  I frown, eyes trailing after the discarded fry. I was gonna eat that. At the very least, she could’ve eaten it.

  “I’m fine, though,” I tell her. “There’s no bullet hole or anything, and I don’t even have blood on me anymore.” 

  I took a shower and changed my clothes the moment we got to the motel. Then, Sam came back with the food, and we all piled into their room and around their table. In fact, out of the corner of my eye, I can see the boys share a little side glance like they could sense an argument brewing. 

  “You’re coming home with me in the morning,” she declares, arms folded across her chest.

  I choke on the sip of soda I took, coughing into my arm. “What?!” I exclaim once I get my bearings together. “No, I’m not. That’s not your decision.”

  First, Dean was trying to convince me to get out, then my brother, and now her? And I get it, okay? This “job” ain’t pretty, and it’s sure as hell not safe, but I chose to do this. 

  Actually, I’m kind of surprised Dean hasn’t piled onto this, hasn’t lectured me about taking a bullet for him again, even if this time it was more indirect. I think the only thing holding him back is the fact that I’m already getting chewed up, or he knows we’ll go back and forth in the same endless merry-go-round until one of us falters and we realize we haven’t gotten anywhere at all.

  “It’s my job to protect you,” she counters, bitterly. And for just a moment, I can see past that hard gaze of hers into something softer, something more vulnerable. “I should’ve pulled you the moment you left that hospital. God, Y/N, you managed to shatter your fucking vertebra.”

  “But I’m fine,” I nearly laugh. “I healed from that and I healed from this.”

  “Yeah? And what if you don’t? Huh?” she pushes. “What if one day something happens and you don’t come back from it?”

  “That’s not going to happen—“

  She reaches over the table, grabs my arm, and rips my sleeve up. She doesn’t say anything as she looks between the thin line going down my arm and at me. The slice Jo gave me is mostly healed now, bits and pieces of it still red and ugly, while other parts are healed over with new skin that's paler and slightly raised. 

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t know about this?” she asks.

  “I can explain,” I rush out.

  “No, that’s not the point,” she counters, releasing my arm. “You got hurt again. How many more times is it going to take for you to understand this isn’t the life for you?”

  “Then what life is for me, huh? A job I can tolerate, but it’ll never fulfill me? Finding someone to love me, except I could never tell them the truth about anything, so I’ll have to wonder if they love me or the version I presented to them?” I retort, feeling a little embarrassed to be arguing in front of my friends like this. “God, Adeline, I’ve tried, I’ve been trying my whole life to be normal. I can’t go back to being like that. I won’t.”

  “That's not what I—“ she sighs. “I’m worried about you. One day you’ll go to sleep and won’t wake up, and there’s nothing I’d be able to do.”

  “That’s not going to happen, Adeline,” I say, finding her hand.

  “You don’t know that,” she shakes her head. “You don’t know what it was like to wait between time until you needed me, only to have started living when I found you. What will become of me if I lose you?”

  It feels like a punch to the gut, like the wind is pushed from my lungs.

  “What’s she talkin’ about?” Dean asks quietly. 

  “You wanted to wait until it was a better time to tell them,” she reminds me. “It’s time.”

  “Right,” I exhale, turning my gaze onto the Winchesters, who had been quiet this whole time. “Adeline isn’t just my friend…she’s, uh, how do I say this?”

  “Your girlfriend?” Dean finishes, looking between us with wide eyes. 

  “What?! No. What?”

  “Ew, no. I mean, she’s hot and all, but that’d be weird,” Adeline answers, face scrunched in clear disgust. I never thought I’d ever see her wearing a face like that when talking about screwing women.

  “Yeah, that’s like shamed upon between a witch and their familiar. There’s a close bond that connects them, so to have a relationship like that would be…”

  “Incestuous,” she finishes my explanation for me.

  “What? No. That’d mean we’re related, which we're not.”

  “But it’s taboo like that.”

  “Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait,” Dean stammers. “Back up. Your familiar? As in Hocus Pocus?”

  “More, the Salem to my Sabrina,” I correct, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Except she’s clearly not stuck in cat form.”

  “Can you turn into a cat…?” Sam asks carefully.

  She stares at him blankly, unamused as she takes a sip of her drink. She rolls her shoulders back, and her grey eyes begin to glow like the moon at midnight. Then, just like that, she’s no longer a human; instead, a black cat is sitting on the wooden chair. 

  “Oh, god, that’s freaky,” Dean mutters, staring wide-eyed at her with a hanging jaw.

  Her eyes narrow, ears going sideways. 

  “How’s that possible?” Sam asks, exasperated.

  “How’s anything possible?” I counter. I don’t really have an explanation for something like this; it’s just what happens. “Isn’t she cute, though?” I ask, patting the top of her soft head. Her gaze turns to me, and she lifts her arm to swing at me, her paw hitting my arm without claws.

  “Alright, sorry, you’re really tough and evil and not at all adorable,” I answer, backing off with my hands in defeat. 

  She settles back down, sitting with a sassy shift of her shoulders and her head tilted up. 

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Dean grumbles. “I’ve known her for how many years?”

  They had met before, a couple of times actually, because it’s impossible not to have your best friend and your other best friend meet, especially when you have a fat crush on one of them. 

  “It just didn’t come up?” I answer, unconvincingly, my voice pitching up.

  “‘Just didn’t come up’ my ass,” he retorts a little harshly. “You kept this from me.”

  He’s right.

  “Hey, don’t get mad at her,” Adeline suddenly says, back in her human form, arms resting on the table as she points at him. “She was sworn to secrecy by me. ‘Didn’t want anyone knowing. As a matter of fact, besides B/n, you’re the only ones who know. You want an award for that, too, Winchester?”

  “Oh, fuck off,” Dean scuffs, rolling his eyes.

  “Sit on it and swivel, asshole,” she bites right back, putting her middle finger up at him. This was perfectly normal for them, though I couldn’t tell you where this sort of beef came from. 

  “Dude, you throw up hairballs,” he points out with an amused smirk. I have to say, they’re taking this surprisingly well. 

  “I do not!” she snaps, fist hitting the table. 

  “That’s a sensitive topic for her,” I cut in, patting her shoulder. She brushes my arm off, glaring at me sideways as if I had betrayed her by saying that. 

  “So what you meant by ‘waiting’ and your job being to protect her, you meant it literally,” Sam asks, though it comes out more like a statement as he connects the dots.

  “Of course I did,” she answers. “My existence revolves around her; keeping her safe and helping her with whatever she needs.”

  A smile quirks on Sam’s lips, “Sounds like—“

  Dean kicks him hard beneath the table.

  “To have a familiar is rare; most witches don’t. And if word gets out, it can become dangerous for them,” I explain, ignoring their odd behavior. “Unfortunately, the line between familiar and servitude can blur for some, though that isn’t the case for us because that's weird, and I’m not a horrible person. That’s why she isn’t with me 24/7 and has her own job and life.”

  “I got lucky,” she muses, raising her eyebrows.

  “So how’d you meet?” Sam asks.

  “She was lost and needed guidance,” Adeline answers with a shrug. “It was a couple of weeks after her mom died, and I just showed up.”

  “She came to me in her cat form, so obviously I started feeding her and hanging around outside to keep her company. Then, not too long afterwards, she revealed who she was,” I explain, recalling the day I was in the backyard crying when a random black cat wandered in and started rubbing against my arm.

  “You eat cat food?” Dean laughs immaturely. “‘Is it any good?”

  “I’m going to boil you alive and feed your remains to the police,” she threatens, monotone and yet oh so serious. 

  “Jesus,” Dean mutters, glancing away, his amusement disappearing.

  “I’m so confused,” Sam laughs. “No offense, but this doesn’t make any sense. I mean, how can you turn into an animal? Does that mean you’re a cat who can turn into a human, or a human that can turn into a cat?”

  “If it makes you feel any better, we don’t really understand it either,” I admit. “It’s just the way it is, even though it’s all twisty turny.”

  “There’s nothing on it in her mom's book or the ones from her grandparents,” she adds. “‘Guess none of them had familiars.”

  “Aren’t we helpful?” I muse, popping another fry into my mouth.

  “Not at all,” Sam mumbles.

(Next Chapter)

(Special Chapter)

A/N: This was purely for clarification on Adeline as a character and therefore this lowkey highkey sucks. Please don’t strike me down 🙏🏻

You glance at Jimin next to you, wondering if he was wary of these unfamiliar surroundings too.

To your surprise, Jimin walks radiating natural confidence and indifference towards the other young men decked out in expensive and sharp-looking suits, brand name shirts and slacks, blazers, Gucci shoes, and Rolex watches.

On the contrary, Jimin was in a black shirt with an oversized jacket slung over his shoulders, probably from Target, and wearing a pair of jeans from Hollister with a leather bag purchased off Amazon hanging from one shoulder.

You briefly look down at your own attire as you near the entrance of the steak place, lightly sighing at the sight of your own plain worn out jeans and gray hoodie that had a bunch of lint clutching onto the fabric. You adjust the strap of your cross bag, frowning once you take a good long look at its fraying fake leather. You nearly trip over your beaten checkered Vans but Jimin quickly grasps your elbow, pulling you up from the sight of his sneakers.

“Be careful,” Jimin lightly scolds. “Are you that excited to eat beef?”

You shake off his grip with a light-hearted laugh, not wanting to admit your insecurity of wandering around this rich part of town in such cheap, tacky clothes which just made you feel intensely foreign. “How can I be calm when THE cheapass Park Jimin is buying me food?”

“Heok,” Jimin gasps dramatically, making you bark out a laugh. “I am NOT cheap. If anything I buy you food nearly every time we hang out!”

You wave him off, knowing full well he was right but let out a playful, proud hmph instead. Jimin silently stares at you, a smile starting to appear on his lips, a crooked tooth peeking out between his lips.

“Y/N~” Jimin suddenly coos, pinching your cheeks and pulling you into a stop.

“JIMIN!” you yelp, tugging away and clutching your reddening face.

You’re too cute. Jimin merely giggles, ruffling your hair with a blissful smile. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

You shoot him a sharp glare and peer in through the windows of the restaurant, slightly grimacing at the sight of fancily dressed youth, elegantly chatting with proud, half-lidded eyes that made one feel small.

Jimin suddenly swings the door open, nearly smashing your face as you stumble back just in time. Jimin doesn’t seem to notice and shoves his upper half body down into a bow, arm swinging across his body to gesture into the restaurant and towards the amused host. You try to look away but it’s impossible once Jimin exclaims, “After you m’lady!”

You wince, giving Jimin a smack which he just laughs at before guiding you into the restaurant.

“Two for Park Jimin,” he responds to the host who asks for the reservation. You unconsciously stick closer to Jimin which he doesn’t fail to notice. He knows you feel out of place.

Jimin suddenly grasps onto your hand, making you jump up in surprise and turn to him but he doesn’t spare you a glance and tugs you along to your table.

As you sit down and order, peering out the window, cackling at Jimin’s silliness and making him giggle with your snarky comments, the rest of the world fades out. 

The crazy light fixtures dim into a spotlight just on your table. The people’s boasts of their latest bags, parents’ boasts of their children’s admittance to the priciest private schools cease into a mere murmur. 

The nasty glimmers of flashy accessories turn dull. The persistent waiter becomes part of the gray background, leaving only you and Jimin heartily laughing at each other, tossing pieces of artichokes onto each plate and accidentally snorting out water from your noses. 

if you have read the series up to now you probably know that it was said Y/N has a job and kept it (just doing it basically on her laptop alone) even when she went with the boys to find their Dad. I did this because I wanted a sense of independence for her as I felt like this made sense, would she drop anything to help them yes but I also don’t think she would be so quick to give up her life since she had her own house and didn’t hunt 24/7. Now as we are a little bit further into the story I don’t think she would have this job anymore but I also don’t know how to write it into the story and i don’t think i want to write a half chapter just on it (tho this might change). So for the sake of the story you can decide why she dosnt have this writing job anymore,for me I see it as she secretly quit after the skin walker hunt because she realized where her focus needed to go and how tiring hunting full time was. I also don’t think she ever brought it up to the boys out of fear of making them feel guilty, tho they probably figured it out and didn’t say anything either.

Anyways sorry for the rant i’ll let you read this now! And Happy thanksgiving to any and all who celebrate

Word Count: 819

A fool in love

(Master list, Previous Ch, Next Ch)

“Here you go” Sam says, placing a cup of tea in front of me having picked up our drinks from some local place as we sat in the library trying to find a new hunt or any clues to where his Dad could be.

He didn’t have a third cup with him, Dean having not joined us deciding instead to go find a “lead” in a bar.

“Thanks” I mumble before bringing the hot drink to my lips.

He sits down in front of me, shuffling in his chair awkwardly. “Are you okay?” I laugh lightly at his odd movements. He clears his throat, “Yeah, I, uh…can we talk?”

“Of course” I smiled at him, my eyebrows scrunched together slightly.

“Promise you won’t get annoyed” He starts off. I laugh, “Okay? But I don’t know if I can exactly promise anything when I don’t know what you’re gonna say.”

“Just…promise” He held out his pinky to me, something he knew I took very seriously. I smile harder, linking my pinky with his, the very sacred promise now in effect. He studies my face carefully as if to see if I was really serious even with the pinky promise.

He bites the inside of his cheek going silent for a beat before finally speaking, “Why don’t you just tell Dean you love him?”

“Sam-“ I sigh, not knowing what to say. We’ve had this conversation before, years ago, where it was established that Sam knew my feelings for his brother.

“Why would I confess to someone who doesn't feel the same way?” I finally say.

“But he does!” He practically yells, getting weird looks from those who sat around us- library rules and all that. His face flushes a deep pink with embarrassment, “Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone loves you, that he loves you?

“Look where he is right now, at a bar probably getting some girl's number or even leaving with her to hook up. He clearly doesn't feel the same for me as I do him.” I explained, a little frustrated. He doesn't say anything for a while again, “I think he does that to avoid his feelings for you.”

“Yes you think but you do not know and I…” I sigh, “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Don’t you notice the way he stares at you? He couldn’t keep his hands off of you” He points out, referring to the Hook Man case. “That was for a cover” I answer simply.

“There were a lot of times where there wasn’t an excuse for a cover up, like the armchair.” The mere mention of me sitting on Dean's lap makes my face feel hot.

I don’t have anything to counter that, I mean it was just to amplify me being his girlfriend for a cover. That’s what it was.

He becomes all sassy and self assured as he speaks, “See! Deep down you know I'm right, you just don’t wanna admit it. And you know what I noticed?”

“What?” I humor him, making eye contact.

“Every time you get hurt or there’s even a little bit of concern towards you he stops hiding his feelings. It’s like suddenly no other woman exists, only you.

You have to have noticed that at least.”

I bit on my bottom lip in thought, he’s right. I can think of numerous occasions where Dean had ignored very attractive women when I was hurt or in the prospect of danger, exactly as Sam said.

No.

No.

Nope.

Dean Winchester is not in love with me, it isn’t true.

“You know a couple months back” I begin, “I forget which hunt it was. But it was only like a month of being on the road with you guys and through that whole time it hadn’t mattered the circumstance, even when we were in the middle of hunting, or where we were, either way Dean was flirting or hooking up with some girl. And every single time I would feel this…this…pang in my heart or maybe like my heart had dropped into my stomach. Which only made me feel more like a fool.

So it got to a point where I just decided, you know what, I'm gonna force myself. I'm going to pretend that I don’t have feelings for him. That it doesn't pain me to see him like that with other women.

“Did it work?” He asks me, his eyes having a certain solemn look to them.

I sigh for the upteenth time, “No. For some stupid reason I can’t stop loving your brother.” He turns his eyes down towards the table.

I try to catch his eyes, “Do you get what I’m saying?”

He looks back up at me, “Yeah. My brother’s an idiot.”

          Celine called Rafa once Alvaro left; she suddenly needed help with something. Rafa didn’t even bother remembering the lie she fed to him. He just grabbed his keys and drove over. He couldn’t figure out why he was going over though. He knew seeing her would only add fuel to the fire.

          Sure enough, when he showed up, she was wearing an old France jersey and nothing more. Normally, he would be drooling, but not today. He walked around her, pulling off his leather jacket. He was tired from practice not to mention all the arguing with Alvaro. It seemed like anything he said, Alvaro had an opinion on it and didn’t bother holding it back, and visa versa.

          They were quickly turning to enemies, in a matter of only weeks. Celina had just waltzed in and turned everything upside down. Had Rafa been there that night at the pub, he could have stopped Alvaro from ever talking—or even looking at—Celine.

          Nacho had pulled him aside again and told him that no matter the cost, they needed to fix things; that was his polite way of telling him to leave Celine in the dust. He said woman come and go; Rafa was barely twenty, he had his whole life to love. Their fighting was now affecting their performance on the pitch and that was not something Nacho was going to let slid. It was also something Rafa (nor Alvaro) did not want. There was no way they were going to let their careers end before they had even started. Nacho had the same talk with Alvaro and got the same reaction; an eye roll and scoff. But below the surface, they both thought it over and started to—finally—see the light.

          Rafa had been thinking; was playing Celine worth ruining his career and friendship with Alvaro? She was barely worth it when they had been dating. Honestly, the two had been the best of friends, inseparable, until that fateful night at the pub. He didn’t like thinking poorly about her, but now that he started, he couldn’t stop. She always had this way of irritating his teammates. He had missed practices because she wanted to hang out for no real reason.

          “Hey.” She whispered, following behind him to the sofa. When he closed his eyes to relax, so leaned over and began kissing him. For a second, he caved and pulled her closer. But he stopped and gently pushed her away.

          “What is your problem?” She asked, pissed. He shook his head. Rejected, she moved into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and changed out of his old training jersey and into a barely there tank top. But she wasn’t actually trying to impress him; it was just the first top she came across.

          She had a feeling, deep in her stomach that he was about to break up with her. But she quickly shook that worry about; he wouldn’t give up. Him and Alvaro had been playing this game for almost two months now. Not to mention, her face was getting noticed and posted up on various blogs across Spain. It was going to do wonders for her modeling career. She was beautiful and now she was linked to a footballer, actually two.

          “I’m not, sleeping with you Celine.” Raphael moved her off his lap. He had flipped on the television while she changed.

          “Then why did you come over?” She asked, bitterly. “I mean honestly Raphael, why did you come to my flat? What did you think we would be doing at, nearly eleven in the night?”

          Rafa shrugged and stared at the screen. Celine scoffed and crossed her arms.

          “Then leave.” She spat. “There is not reason for you to be here, suffit de laisser.”

          “You called me over here.” He reminded her. “Did you only invite me to fool around? You know what Celine, I have a few more questions.” He stood up and flipped the television off. She was still fuming on the couch.

          “I said—“

          “Why are you playing this game? Are you trying to make me jealous or just shamelessly promote yourself for your career? We both know you don’t care about Alvaro, you didn’t even know him until that night. And you wouldn’t have given him a second glance if he wasn’t my team mate at Real, and don’t lie.”

          Celine just sat there, pressing her lips harder and harder together.

          “Why did you actually come to Madrid? You said partying, but you and your friends got a flat here. Where are they anyway? They are never here! Never mind, ignore that. But I have a feeling you came back because your career were suffering and getting back with me—or another player—in the magazines would make your name known everywhere. I only care about you! That’ all you’ve ever cared about.”

          “I have a question for you, Raphael.” She stood up, voiding all emotions from her face. “If you knew all of that, why did you go along with the game? You know me better than anyone else, yet you still challenged Alvaro.” She laughed a little; the idea had just occurred to her. “Tell me Rafa, please.”