post #500 = another fic post. yay.

I’m also reconsidering how I set the fic up on the Pit, so I might make it three separate stories so I can post from each continuity as I write them. This is how I’m planning on setting it up on ao3, but there’s a series option on ao3 that I don’t think there is on ffnet. 

And dammit dreamhost. Give me back my server already. I want to be able to make things unique again.

——- prompt: SIGHT ——-

The first time that Sam Winchester saw her, the only option available was to stare.

He wasn’t staring because she was particularly pretty (she was, in fact, drop dead gorgeous), but because of her hair. The roughly cut mass of wavy blonde looked to have been attacked with a marker while she was sleeping. Her whole face had that appearance, really. There were messy half-faded streaks of crimson on her forehead and cheeks, and even a bit on her lips. 

Unfortunately, as much as he would have liked to keep watching her face, he only got a minute or so of the full front view before she had brushed past him, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She shouted an apology back, along with a curse and a wail of being late as she disappeared around a corner. 

He wasn’t about to forget her face.

The second time that Sam Winchester saw her, she looked completely blissed out. The streaks in her hair had faded almost completely, only visible to someone who had known they were there, and there were no more marks on her face, only an expression that could best be called orgasmic. That was despite the blotchy redness and smeared make-up that made it obvious that she had been crying and crying hard.

She certainly wasn’t crying anymore, though.

No, when he came across her she was devouring a piece of strawberry shortcake in a way that reminded him all too strongly of his brother’s addiction to pie. That comparison brought up a sharp pang of memory, and he made a promise to himself to call Dean later. In the mean time, it was actually kind of hypnotizing to watch her eat. He was almost tempted to just stay and watch her eat.

Unfortunately he was due for a talk with his counselor in regards to his scholarship, which meant he really had to go now.

The third time that he saw her, he almost swallowed his tongue. For some reason or another, he hadn’t quite connected cheerleaders and university (he was going to blame that on his upbringing. And Dean for not warning him), but there she was. In a teeny tiny skirt. Showing off her legs.  

Good God but they went on forever.

He wasn’t the only one who had stopped to watch her boun— practice. To have stopped to watch her practice. There were plenty of guys and girls along side him, watching the blonde amazon do her routine, so really. He shouldn’t have stood out. And he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been a full head taller than just about everyone else who was watching. 

So he can’t be blamed for flushing scarlet when her eyes met his, or for the way he’d quickly moved on.

After that heart pounding moment, he was always noticing her. Where ever he went, his eyes seemed to be drawn right to her. She was so bright and cheerful, a spot of sunlight that drew everyone to her. He was no exception.

The only problem was that he really didn’t know how to get to know her, not really. This wasn’t like a hunt; he couldn’t just slip on a new outfit and personality and become whatever it was that she wanted to see. Not if he wanted to get to know her, not if he wanted to be friends. 

So he contented himself with watching her from afar. There were certainly worse sights to be entranced by.

(Though he’s positive there’s nothing better)