#SPN HIATUS CHALLENGE 2017

[the-awkward-writer]

The Afternoon After

The Morning After (Part II): The Afternoon After

Pairings: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex

A/N: After much consideration, and request, I’ve decided to do a part two for “The Morning After”! The prompt for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing‘s SPN Hiatus Challenge fit pretty well with it and I liked it, so I went with it. The gif I was given is right below, and the dialogue prompt is in bold in the fic so it is relatively easy to find. Enjoy! This is also completely unedited. I'm sorry.

Prompt: The gif below and the line “Are we completely sure that’s how it’s supposed to look?”

Read Part I Here!

When you woke up from your nap in Jensen’s arms, you very much did kick his ass.

“Jensen Ross Ackles!” You yelled, throwing your shirt at him.

Jensen flinched, “My head still hurts, Y/N, quiet down,” he hissed, grasping his head in his hands.

“I don’t give a fuck if your head hurts, sweetheart,” you spat. “There is a fucking ring on my hand and I know it’s your fault!”

Jensen turned around to face you, “What do you mean a-”

You cut Jensen off, flinging your left hand in his face, “Well fuck,” he said softly, his eyes locked on the gold band.

“‘Well fuck,’ is right Jensen,” you said in a mocking tone. “I’m going to go take a shower, then you will because we both smell like cheap booze and sex, and then you will be cleaning my room up,” you shoved your finger into his chest roughly, giving him a pointed glare before walking off towards the bathroom, leaving a shell shocked Jensen in your wake.

You were in the shower for just under half an hour, brushing past Jensen as he walked into the bathroom to clean himself up.

While you waited for him, you stripped the sheets off of your bed, throwing them in the washing machine.

Ten minutes later, you were sat on the bare mattress, your laptop in front of you, and your phone pressed to your ear, “Come on Jared,” you pleaded with the giant puppy of a man. “You have to know where we went!”

“Y/N,” Jared’s voice sounded gruff with sleep, “I was just as drunk as you were. I have no idea where the two of you idiots went, why are you asking?”

You took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Because I woke up with a wedding ring on!”

Jared laughed heartily on the other line, obviously amused with your predicament, “I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’ve always wanted him,” Jared pointed out.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay where you are and not go over to Jared’s house and rip his head off.

“I know this, Jared!” You yelled at him, “But he doesn’t and I would’ve liked for it to stay that way!”

Jared sighed on the other end, “I can’t help you, Y/N,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do.”

You sighed heavily, throwing your head back against the headboard, but immediately regretting it as a shooting pain made its way across the back of your head, “Ow,” you mumbled.

Jared sighed again, probably at your clumsy action, “Goodbye, Y/N,” he said.

“Bye Jare,” you hung up the phone, throwing to on the mattress.

You moved closer to your laptop, typing furiously to try and find where the hell you and Jensen could have gone the night before.

You were only searching for a good five minutes when Jensen came out of the bathroom, a trail of steam following him. A towel was slung low on his hips, practically making you drool, “Sorry,” he said, “I forgot my clothes.” He shuffled towards the red duffel bag on the floor at the foot of your bed. Looks like drunk Jensen planned ahead, you thought.

Once Jensen held a pair of boxers and sweatpants, he stood up quickly, which made him lose grip on his towel, and the cotton to fall to the floor.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked, covering your eyes.

“Fuck!” Jensen swore, bending down quickly to grab the towel. “Sorry Y/N!” Jensen knew that his face was beet red from embarrassment.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, right?” You joked with your hands still over your eyes.

Jensen chuckled slightly and cleared his throat, shuffling back into the bathroom without a word.

You let out a breath and dropped your hands as you heard the bathroom door click shut.

You stood up from the bed, your research forgotten as you inspected your room. You thought that the curtain rod would have to be completely replaced. You would have to reorganize your desk, and it looked like one of the wheels on your desk chair was broken.

“Fucking Jensen,” you said, kicking the fallen chair lightly.

Your head snapped up as the bathroom door opened and Jensen walked out, a blush painted on his cheeks.

“You broke my curtain rod and the wheel on my desk chair,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jensen rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “I’ll fix that.”

“Damn right you will,” you glare at him and strut past him, and out of your bedroom.

You heard Jensen sigh heavily as you made your way to the kitchen to brew a strong pot of coffee and make some breakfast.

You reached into your cupboard, grabbing a coffee filter and the bag of coffee grounds. Once the filter was settled in the machine you dumped in more coffee grounds than necessary and flicked the on button.

“I’m going to run out to the store to get you some new curtains and a desk chair,” Jensen said, coming into the kitchen with a red t-shirt covering his previously bare chest.

You turned to face him, “You don’t have to do that, Jensen,” you said, “I was only joking.”

Jensen shook his head with a slight smile, “Nope. I broke your shit, so I’m going to get you new things.”

You sighed, giving in without a word, knowing that he wasn’t going to be deterred. “Fine. But I’m making breakfast, so hurry back.”

Jensen grabbed your keys off of the counter and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “And after that we can talk about a certain piece of jewelry,” he said with another smirk and a wink.

You blushed as he winked at you and left your apartment.

You knew that he would be gone for at least an hour, so you held off on the breakfast for a moment, heading back into your room to organize your desk.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jensen called teasingly as he walked back into your apartment carrying two medium sized boxes.

“Oh good, I was beginning to worry,” you teased back, appearing from the kitchen.

Jensen rolled his eyes and dropped the boxes by your couch, “What smells so good?” He asked, rubbing his stomach as it growled loudly.

“Pancakes and bacon,” you said. “Nothing special.”

Jensen grabbed a plate, piling it high with pancakes and multiple strips of bacon, “Your cooking is always special, Y/N,” he said, his eyes trained on his full plate as he made his way to your dining room table.

You were thankful that he didn’t see your blush. You busied yourself by grabbing a plate and grabbing some food as well as orange juice for the both of you.

“Jesus Christ,” you commented. You left the man alone for a total of two minutes and he had already managed to inhale almost half of his plate.

Jensen swallowed his mouthful of food, “I told you,” he said with a cheesy smile, “Your food is great.”

After you and Jensen finished with breakfast each of you took one box to your bedroom. “Where did you get these?” You asked, noting the surprising weight to the box holding the curtain rod.

“IKEA,” Jensen said, throwing his box onto your bed.

“Great,” you said, “We’ll never get it assembled.”

Jensen chuckled, “I know how to assemble a chair and a curtain rod, Y/N,” he said. “This won’t be a problem.”

Long story short, Jensen was dead fucking wrong.

You had been sitting on the floor for over an hour trying to figure out the damn curtain rod. Your back ached, your neck was stiff, and your tailbone hurt like nobody’s business.

The two of you were able to get the curtain rod together, but it sure as hell didn’t look like a curtain rod.

“Are we completely sure that’s how it’s supposed to look?” Jensen’s head was cocked to the side, a slight frown gracing his handsome features.

You sighed, “That doesn’t look anything like a curtain rod! It looks like a deformed chicken!”

“Where the hell did you get ‘deformed chicken’ from?” Jensen asked incredulously, turning to face you with his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know!”

Jensen chuckled, “You are something else, aren’t ya?”

The look in his eyes made you shiver. His eyes and words were not completely corresponding.

You chuckled awkwardly, shuffling your bare feet on the carpet, “Listen, Jensen, we need to talk about this,” you say, lifting your left hand.

Jensen’s face was suddenly serious as he led you out of your confining room and to your living room. Jensen sat down at one end of the couch and gestured for you to sit across from him. You did as he said, tucking your legs under your body.

Your stomach twisted into knots as the two of you sat there in silence. You didn’t want to annul the marriage. You wanted to see if it would work out between the two of you.

Jensen looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to talk.

You took a deep breath, “I- um. I-” You stutter.

“You what?” Jensen asked with a teasing smirk on his face.

You closed your eyes for a moment, your stomach twisting into knots. You had known the man for over ten years and you couldn’t spit out a simple sentence, “I don’t want to.”

Jensen raised his eyebrow questioningly, “You don’t want to what?” Jensen chuckled slightly at how vague you were being.

“I-um-I don’t want to break this up,” you say slowly; the words didn’t sound right on your tongue.

Jensen leaned back, an unreadable look on his face. “I mean, unless you don’t want to,” you say, looking at your hands and picking at a hangnail. “If not I understand. I mean you probably don’t even like me like-” Your sentence was cut off as Jensen leaned across the couch, smashing his lips to yours.

You gasped at his action, but you quickly found yourself melting into his touch. “I’m assuming that means that you don’t want to end this either?”

Jensen smirked, “Hell no, baby. I’m in it for the long run,” Jensen said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You smiled widely and wrapped your arms around his neck. Without warning, you felt Jensen’s hands under your thighs, lifting you, “Jensen!” You squealed, “What the hell are you doing?”

Jensen held your body against the wall as he opened the door to your bedroom, “I’m showing you how much I don’t want to end this.” Jensen was able to get the door open, “Fuck,” he muttered as he stubbed his toe on the door frame.

“You okay, baby?” You asked in a teasing voice, “Do you want me to kiss it better?”

“Real funny, Y/N,” Jensen said, “Always the comedi-fuck!”

You squeal loudly as Jensen hits his shin on the end of your bed, making the two of you crash onto the mattress. As you land on your back, you hear splintering wood and a loud thud as your box spring crashes to the floor.

Your entire body shakes with laughter, “You just broke my fucking bed!” You giggle harder as Jensen buried his head in your neck in embarrassment.

“Looks like you owe me a new bed too,” you giggled, “You’re such a klutz!”

Jensen laughed too, his body shaking, “And I’m completely sober, too.”

“You’re gonna end up replacing all of my things by the end of the week!”

“Well, it looks like you’ll just have to move in with me so that doesn’t happen.”

tell me what you thought here! part 3?

tags: want to be added or removed? shoot me an ask!

@evyiione, @iputthesininbuisness, @mogaruke, @mccallmestydia @thatshellfiredean

[impalasutra]

The Most Important Ingredient

Summary: When the reader is hit with a cursed powder on a witch hunt, Gabriel offers to help her break the curse.  The reader agrees, assuming he’s just offering to help a friend but perhaps there’s more to his offer.

Challenge(s): @gabriel-monthly-challenge; @spnkinkbingo, SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge Week 20 Square Filled: Sex Pollen

Characters/Pairings: Gabriel x sister!Reader; Sam, Dean

Word Count: 2287

Warnings: cursing (both language and witchcraft varieties), sex pollen, assumed unrequited feelings (but you know what they say when you assume something…); smut - unprotected sex, fuck or die (so, kind of dub-con), maybe a tiny bit of grace kink Rating: Explicit

A/N: This is another entry for kink bingo!  I’m running out of time to get these done but I’ve got SO many ideas so hopefully something will come of most of them!  It’s also an entry for the @gabriel-monthly-challenge dialogue prompt, which is in bold in the fic, and the SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge dialogue prompt, which is also bold in the fic (thanks so much for hosting this summer @thing-you-do-with-that-thing!  It was a blast).  So, FYI this is not a kink of mine but I hope I did it justice for the folks out there who enjoy it!  Kink Bingo has been fun for just that reason!

You can also read The Most Important Ingredient on AO3

The Most Important Ingredient -

You were lying on the bed, surrounded by your brothers and Gabriel.  You knew that they had to be more worried than they were letting on since they had called in the archangel instead of Castiel.  You and your brothers had been hunting a powerful witch and she had gotten you with… something.  The symptoms had come on quickly but they seemed to ebb and flow with no rhyme or reason and none of the humans in the room had any idea what that meant.

You sat up and Dean rushed to your side, trying to force you to lie down again.  “Dean, I feel fine right now,” you tried to assure him but he wouldn’t budge.

“That’s all well and good but I have a quick question.  Um, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

Dean’s question and attitude might have made you laugh on any regular day and as you started to giggle, a fresh wave of heat flashed through you and your heart sped up.  Your breathing got quicker and your mouth was suddenly dry.  You refused to look at Dean’s ‘I told you so’ face and, instead, turned toward Gabe as your tongue darted out in an attempt to wet your lips.

“It’s a curse,” Gabriel announced, confirming everyone’s suspicions as another round of cramps wracked your body.  Concern flitted across the archangel’s face as he looked you over.  “I can fix it but I’m going to need some supplies,” he told your brothers, snapping up a list and thrusting it into Sam’s hands.  “I need to stay here and slow down its progression as much as I can,” Gabriel added, quelling Dean’s argument before your brother could even get the words out, “I’ll take care of her.”

You watched your brothers leave through eyes dimmed by the haze of heat and pain, hope welling in your chest for the first time since the witch had thrown that handful of powder into your face.  When your eyes found Gabriel again, though, that hope deflated.  The archangel looked pained as he looked down on your body that was laid out on the bed.  

Despite your condition, you flooded with arousal at the idea of being alone with Gabriel.  You had been crushing on him for quite some time but now was not the time to be thinking about that, especially with the way he was looking at you right now.

Gabriel’s eyes were filled with pity.  “So, uh…” he started, his voice trailing off.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling even more uneasy.  When the archangel didn’t respond, you pressed him.  “Just spit it out, Gabe.”

He took a deep breath.  “OK, look.  I can fix this but it’s really not an ideal situation.  It’s true that you’re cursed but the ingredients I sent your brothers out for can’t help.  There’s only one way to deal with this,” he paused to breathe again.  “That shit the witch threw at you was enchanted lavender pollen.  Lavender is an aphrodisiac… Basically, your options are to sleep with someone or die.”

As hesitant as he had seemed a moment ago, now the words came pouring out of Gabriel’s mouth.  “I sent your brothers away because this is your decision and I promise to respect you in it.  Your choices are to die - painfully - or to have sex with someone,” he told you again.  “I told your brothers I would take care of you and I meant it.  I hate that this happened like this but if you decide to fight this, I’m here and I will help you through it.”

Pain was racing through your body again, emotional turmoil adding to the physical sensations.  Of course Gabriel hated this.  He was an angel of the Lord, an archangel, even, and you were just a human.  But you didn’t want to die and Gabe seemed willing to help you, at least.  Even if he didn’t want to sleep with you, he was consenting to do it and it was something you had only dreamed of late at night in your bedroom or on the rare occasion you’d get a separate motel room from your brothers.  You screwed your eyes shut, unable to look at Gabriel as another wave of pain overtook you and you allowed yourself to be selfish for a moment.  “Help me,” you whispered, not letting yourself imagine that this was going to be anything more than a friend helping a friend.

With a wave of his hand, both of you were naked.  It was clinical, utilitarian, even, but your mind finally got the better of you and managed to conjure up a predatory glint in Gabriel’s eye as he stalked toward where you lay in the motel bed.

An involuntary moan escaped your mouth as one of Gabriel’s hands brushed over your collarbone and your eyes widened when his breath seemed to catch at the sound.  You just let yourself feel as his hand almost reverently dragged across your skin.  Eventually, Gabriel’s mouth joined the fray, sucking on your neck, right at your pulse point, before he moved and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.  His touch seemed to sooth the pain that had been ripping through your body and you arched into him as his fingers began rubbing circles into your clit.  Pleasure shot through your system, an instant balm to the lingering pain that had remained.  The feeling of pending euphoria built and built within you until you were tumbling over the edge, calling out the archangel’s name as your orgasm washed over you.

The pleasure was short lived, though, because as soon as Gabriel’s fingers left your center, your phone started blasting the ringtone that you had set for whenever your brothers called.  Gabriel reached over to the bedside table and answered.  You couldn’t hear the whole conversation but it sounded like your brothers were having trouble finding some of the things on the list Gabriel had given them.  “I’m sorry but sassafras is the most important ingredient, Sam…”

You didn’t hear anything else because, without any warning, the pain and the heat, which you now realized had been arousal, was back in force, racing through your body with a new intensity.  “Fuck!” you shouted, your muscles curling you into an involuntary fetal position on the bed.

“Shit,” you heard Gabriel murmur.  He quickly hung up the phone and ran a hand down your back in an attempt to sooth you.  “Hey, pretty girl, I need you to relax for me.  I want to make the pain go away and I can’t do that if you don’t relax…” Gabriel’s voice sounded almost pained himself and you might have laughed if you could.  “Breathe, love.  Deep breath…” Gabriel took a deep breath in and you mimicked him, releasing the air - and some of the tension in your body - when he exhaled.  

After a few more tandem breaths, you were able to relax enough to lay flat again and you reached out to Gabriel.  “Please,” you whispered, tugging the archangel toward you.

Gabriel settled in between your legs, his cock brushing against your folds, and looked into your eyes.  “I’ve wanted to be here for a long time, “ he muttered but you weren’t positive that you had heard him right.  Before you could ask, he was questioning you.  “You sure this is what you want?”

You nodded, your legs coming up around Gabriel’s waist and urging him forward.  “Yes, please,” you said, your voice practically a whimper.

Gabriel looked into your eyes, your imagination conjuring up an emotion that you refused to name deep within their golden depths.  He lined himself up with your entrance and began pushing into you.  Gabriel let out a groan once he was fully seated inside of you.  “If I had it my way, I’d tease you for hours, maybe even days,” he whispered, “but you don’t have… there’s not enough time for that.”

“Next time,” you thought as Gabriel began to thrust.  Your hips quickly started rocking up to meet his.  The two of you built up a rhythm, your combined panting and moaning mixing with the sounds of skin sliding on skin and the occasional shout of “Gabriel!” or your name to create your own unique symphony in the dingy motel room.

Gabriel’s mouth connected with yours before his lips dragged over his jaw and down the column of your neck.  He kissed his way across your chest and captured one of your nipples in his mouth.  The combined sensations of his cock filling you and his tongue laving attention on your breast pushed you closer to the edge but your body just hung on the precipice of pleasure for what felt like eternity.

“Fuck,” Gabriel hissed, “this curse doesn’t want to let go.  If I were human I would have… well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be able to help anymore.”  His breathing was harsh and you wondered how he was stringing words together when you were nearly beyond coherent thought.  Gabriel’s hips began moving impossibly faster and you groaned when he growled out, “it’s a good thing I’m not human.”

Suddenly, every one of your nerve endings was on fire, singing with pleasure as Gabriel’s grace wrapped around your body.  The archangel brought his hand down to where your bodies were joined.  His fingers were like lightning against your clit, driving you to new heights of ecstasy that you had never even imagined possible.  All at once, every sensation intensified and you tumbled over the edge, crying out into the motel room as your orgasm triggered Gabriel’s

You were coming down from your pleasure high when the archangel rolled off of you and pulled you over so your head was resting on his chest.  He was lazily drawing shapes on your bare back when it hit you: curse aside, no man was ever going to live up to this night.  It was better to cut and run, you figured,than let yourself get any more attached.

“You don’t have to stay,” you told Gabriel, giving him the out you knew he desired.  “Thank you for helping me but I guess I can take it from here.”

Gabriel pulled you in closer, almost like he didn’t want to let go.  You felt something press against your hair and then, just as suddenly as he had undressed you, you were dressed again and the angel was seated across the room.  He was staring at his feet, what you could see of his face displaying an internal battle going on in his mind.  Eventually, one side won out and Gabriel spoke, his voice hopeful as he looked at you from under his eyelashes.

“You said… you said ‘next time’ before,” he stated.  “Did you mean that or was that just the heat of the moment?”

You hadn’t realized, hadn’t intended to say that out loud.  “I…” you began, not sure how to respond.  You closed your eyes and let out a deep exhale.  “I… fuck it, you want the truth?  I mean, hell, we could pretend like tonight never happened but you and I both know that never works.  So, yes.  Yes, I meant it.”  You stood and began pacing as you continued what had quickly turned into a rant.  “I have wanted that with you for, Christ, I don’t even remember how long at this point.  I mean, I could have done without the curse but, yes, I would like there to be a next time.”  

You knew you should stop talking but you were on a roll so, why the hell not dig yourself a deeper hole.  “What about you?  Did you mean it?”  Your voice went uncharacteristically quiet as you added “You called me love; said you had wanted this for a while.  Did you mean that?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in the archangel’s reply, no room for wavering or misunderstanding.  “Honestly?  I’ve loved you since you talked Sam down at the mystery spot.  Lusted for you since the college.”

You were speechless.  It hadn’t been quite as long for you but definitely close.  “Why didn’t you…” you began but when you looked up, Gabriel was gone.

“Why didn’t you?” he asked, his voice practically a whisper as he wrapped his arms around you from behind.  

You turned in Gabriel’s arms and pressed a kiss to his lips, welcoming his tongue when it requested entrance into your mouth.  You groaned into his mouth as your hands found their way into his hair and he pulled you impossibly closer.  You were completely wrapped up in one another and that is how your brothers found you when they returned a few minutes later.

“What the hell?” Dean shouted, coming to a stop in the doorway.

Sam didn’t realize Dean had stopped and he crashed into him, his eyes widening as he took in the sight in the motel room.  When he spoke, his voice was quieter than Dean’s but he was still obviously trying to make sense of what they had walked in on.  “This is so not the time or place for this, guys.  What about...”

“Curse is broken,” Gabriel shared as he pulled away from you and grabbed the bags from Sam and Dean.  “Your sister and I need a little bit of privacy.  We’ll see you two in a few days, try not to get into too much trouble.”

“What?” Dean sputtered as Sam, only slightly more eloquently, questioned, “If the curse is broken, what was all this for?”

“Root beer recipe I’ve been wanting to try,” Gabriel responded with a shrug before transporting the two of you away and into the most well appointed, plush hotel room you had ever seen.

GMC Peeps: @lacqueluster @ashiewesker @archangel-with-a-shotgun @revwinchester

Impalasutra Tags: @hexparker

Gabriel/Curse Tags from @mrswhozeewhatsis: @mrswhozeewhatsis @vintagevalentinexx @thinkwritexpress-official @mrsjohnsmith @thegleegeneration @Supermoonpanda @sis-tafics @meganwinchester1999 @ferferelli @roxy-davenport @chrisatplay @bkwrm523 @faith-in-dean @kreborn17 @for-the-love-of-dean @curliesallovertheplace @skybinx-blog @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr @winchesters-princess @mysaintsasinner @shelovesallthethings @hexparker @alangel1895 @evilskank-inthemegacoven

[jayankles]

First Degree Burns Part 3

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean x Reader (eventually)

Summary: Firefighter!AU. Dean is the new firefighter than has recently moved in, unbeknownst to you. You hear screaming and shouting outside of your house and waste no time to help those in need. You find out your neighbour’s son is still in the house and run in to save him. But can you?

Word Count: 2230

Beta: @misticty – Thanks dude, you are awesome!

A/N – For @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s Favourite Things Challenge with the prompt: Firefighter!AU. This is Part 3. And it is for her SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge - Week 17 with the prompt: ‘tell me something I don’t know about you.’

Catch Up Here

‘It’s okay, I know how hard it is to lose someone you love.’ A look of sorrow passed over your face as you thought about worse times, a smile mimicked his previous one. ‘I know what it’s like to lose a child, I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone else.’

Dean’s face had grown pale. He didn’t know what it felt like to lose a child but he had lost his mother and Sam’s mother. He couldn’t think about the pain and despair, it was a heartbreaking thought that he didn’t want to conjure, he couldn’t think about losing another loved one especially his little boy.

Dean’s eyebrows were furrowed, they deepen and he tried to decipher what you meant by it. You had lost a child?

He didn’t want to know what that felt like, not in a million years. He had learned first hand that you would do anything for someone else’s child but what was it that you hadn’t done to lose yours. Was it due to natural causes? He knew it would have been rude to ask but his curiosity ran wild. His mind running a mile a minute trying to picture a little girl who looked exactly like you, changing their eye colour, imagining their father to have a slightly different shade.

Of course, the door had opened and a doctor wearing a white overcoat came in.

His name tag, next to his stethoscope, reading Castiel.

‘Mr Singer,’ the doctor walking over to where Bobby was and shaking his hand. 'I would say that it was a pleasure seeing you again but given the circumstances I-’

‘Cas!’ You whined, causing Dean to retreat to the corner of the room where a spare chair was luckily located. ‘My leg hurts!’

Castiel read your charts, scanning all the notes inside the clipboard that was attached to the bed.

'Cas! You were my daddy’s doctor! Tell me something I don’t know about you.’

With all seriousness, Cas deadpanned, 'I’m an Angel of the Lord, and I married a demon.’

The doctor injected the morphine into you, reducing the pain immensely, almost immediately.

Your head started to spin and you couldn’t figure out why but the others around you did. They giggled and tittered as the medication ran through the tube and into your body.

‘But Daddy,’ you whined, hyped up on the morphine, ‘can’t you see it?’

Bobby chuckled as he scraped a hand under his cap and down his face. ‘See what pumpkin?’

‘We – all of us – are on a cloud. We are floating on a cloud.’ Your voice light and breathy. 'Cas is an Angel and we’re in heaven.’

Sam looking to his father, finding a smile on Dean’s face. ‘Is she okay, dad?’ Sam had whispered.

Dean quietly laughed from where he was sitting in the corner of the room. ‘Yeah, Sammy. Y/N’s okay. She’s just a little full of morphine to take the pain away from her leg. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she doesn’t remember this.’

‘Dad where are we going to stay?’ Sam looked around and lowered his voice so that only he and Dean could hear.

Dean exhaled a breath, hoping that he wouldn’t have to answer that question just yet but knew that since Sam had asked he would have to answer.

‘For now, I guess we’ll have to stay at the firehouse. There are beds for when we take 12 maybe even 24 hour shifts; we’ll stay there until then. I’ll try my hardest to find a place but… that is all I can do. Try.’

Dean and Sam were going to suffer, again. This being the second time.

Someone up there must have hated the Winchesters, they must have done something wrong in a previous life.

Your eyes were drooping enough to send you back to sleep. Bobby got up and patted the back of your hand but you didn’t feel it, you didn’t feel the kiss that Jody placed on your head either because you were out for the count.

Bobby and Jody started to retreat from the room, Sam and Dean following their lead, standing and stretching their tired, stiff muscles.

Sam shoved his good hand in his jacket pocket the other held up by the sling standardly issued by the hospital. Underneath the cast, was already beginning to become itchy but if he touched it his arm and recovery could get worse.

You had been discharged a few days later and prescribed some more medication for you to take only when the pain became unbearable.

However, you felt like an invalid with all the titanium rods piercing through your leg. The fracture not quite healed yet which reduced you to being in a wheelchair for the time being. You would only be able to move to the crutches stage when your physio therapist only deemed you fit enough.

Now here you were with a box of doughnuts in your lap as Bobby pushed you into the fire station, looking for the firefighters that had rescued you from next doors burning building.

The friendly woman at the reception desk had given you a warm smile, seeing as you were currently immobile, she typed up the location of the incident and a few minutes later picked up the phone and asked for Lafitte, Fitzgerald, Harvelle and Winchester.

'You got a visitor boys and girl.’ The receptionist had said, you still hadn’t caught her name. She hummed a few times and before telling them to come down to main entrance, where she was currently situated.

The receptionist lead you over to the seats on the left side of room, so your father could sit down, he decided not to protest against the stern looking woman at the front. ‘They’ll be down in a minute.’

‘Dad, do you think they’ll like the doughnuts?’ Even though you had asked about half a dozen times already, you couldn’t help but be nervous and ask again.

‘Pumpkin, for the hundredth time, they’ll appreciate the gesture, they’re getting free food from a damsel in distress, that’s what they do for a livin’, they save people because they like it, it makes them feel good. They did good and they don’t expect anything in return.’

Bobby’s words were wise, they always had been, and you just had to listen and digest what he had said and tell yourself that you were just worrying for nothing. Everything was going to be fine and you were going to thank them for saving your life with doughnuts; tit for tat, right?

A short woman with blonde hair came through the door first, greeting the woman at the front desk with a smile.

Next came a short, skinny man; his aura read friendly as he smiled. He was followed by a larger build man, his physique vaguely familiar. He looked like a big teddy bear. The man beamed as he lay eyes on you – he recognised you.

The woman said four names right?

Just then, two familiar face stepped through the double doors.

Dean and little Sam, still in his cast.

‘Dean? Sam? What? What are you doing here?’ You were bamboozled, your brows furrowed in confusion as you lay eyes upon the people that were in the hospital with you just a few days ago, what were they doing in the fire station?

Dean’s face tinged a shade of pink as Sam ran to be at your side, giving you an awkward side hug with his good arm. The man scratched at the back of his neck as he tried to come up with an excuse to tell you why he was at the station. He contemplated telling you that he was here to see his friend Benny but all he could come up with was the truth.

‘I work and now live here… surprise?’ His words were quiet but he tried to play it off.

‘Do you have a minute after so we can talk?’ You asked Dean.

The other fire fighters seemed to take a step back but you spoke again. ‘Sorry, I came here, with the help of my father of course,’ a chortle ran through the station. ‘I brought these as a thank you.’

You handed them to Sam, which was quickly assisted by the short man.

The blonde spoke up, sensing a little nervousness about you, she introduced herself as Jo and then went around to introduce the other two men.

‘That one,’ she pointed to the man with Sam, ‘is Garth. The Louisianan teddy bear over there is Benny and you obviously know Sam and Dean.’

The team had thanked you for the doughnuts and wished your recovery well.

Benny had tipped his head forward, his accent almost making you melt, ‘thanks, Cher, we’ll definitely remember you.’ Then he left.

It was only you and Dean remaining, along with the receptionist and your father.

‘You want me to go, Pumpkin?’

You tilted your head back and smiled up at him. ‘No dad, it’s okay this will only take a second.’

He nodded and took a few steps back anyway, not yet wanting to intrude on the conversation you were about to have with one of the firefighters that had saved his daughter.

‘You said you live here?’ He nodded. ‘So you don’t have a proper place to stay?’ He shook his head. ‘Would you like to live with me?’ His head snapped up from where his eyes had landed to a spot on the floor.

‘Why?’ Out of all the letters of the alphabet and all the hundreds of thousands of words he could have strung together, he chose ‘why?’

‘Because you don’t have a place to stay? Because I have a spare bedroom and no one sleeps in it. So I’m offering to you and Sam because you can’t sleep in a fire station and if it makes you feel better you can stay there until you find your own place.’ With a smile on your face, you argued that it would be a good idea that he stays with you, and now that you knew this information it would ease your mind knowing that he and his son had a place to stay.

‘But I can’t do that Y/N, it’s your house and we’re just going to impose and get in the way, what with you in a wheelchair with a broken leg, in a cast I might add.’

‘Dude, it’s the same size as your house was. It big enough for three of us. I’ve had more people live here at one time before.’ You started. ‘I had friends over here when I needed them the most. And I want to do the same with you. You and Sam, you need someone to be there for you and I want to be that someone. If I can help you, it’ll make me feel better. Please Dean. Just consider it.’

Dean huffed as he mulled over what you were arguing, ‘if I were to consider this proposition. What about him?’

He pointed over your shoulder to where Bobby was.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned and tipped your head back, ‘my dad? He’s not going to there the entire time, only just to check up on me and it’s not like we’re dating and, you know, if we were I’m an adult and I will do what I want.’

It took a lot long than you had anticipated, you and Dean going back and forth why he and Sam should or shouldn’t stay.

In the end, he relented and agreed on the condition that he look after both you and the house whilst he and Sam were living there with you.

‘Deal?’ Dean held out his hand, waiting for you to shake it, you did, albeit with a little reluctance.

‘Deal. You can start moving whatever you have left into the house and I’ll order some take out. Sound good? You know where I live, obviously.’

Dean thanked you for the doughnuts and the living arrangements, telling you that he and Sammy would be over later in the day or tomorrow.

Dean stepped into the room where the other four were, all of them going silent, noticing the huge beaming smile on Dean’s face.

‘When did you suddenly become Mr Warmth and Smiles, Dean-o?’ Jo teased. ‘I mean, you hardly ever do that curling thing with your mouth, I forgot you had the ability to smile.’

The others snickered behind her as she mocked him.

‘Ha ha, very funny, Jo.’ Dean tried to think of a comeback but stopped short, walking over to the window of the fire station. His eyes immediately connected with the image of your father wheeling you away. Dean almost missed the conversation happening behind him.

‘Aw, big brooding bean’s got his eyes set on his little girlfriend out there.’ Benny interjected.

‘Benny, you know she’s not my girlfriend.’

‘Yet. She’s not your girlfriend yet.’

Garth had looked up from Sam’s arm, adjusting his sling, he took a large bite of the sugary doughnut you had bought and spoke over it, ‘I like her, she’s nice, she bought food.’

Dean hummed in agreement with Garth, you had been in Dean’s life for a week and the other firefighters had already started to notice a difference in him, maybe that fire did more good than bad.

Lemme know what you think...

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[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

SPN HWC 17: Masterlist of Masterlists

MASTERLISTS FOR ALL THE WEEKS UNDER THE CUT!

Week One

Week Two

Week Three

Week Four

Week Five

Week Six

Week Seven

Week Eight

Week Nine

Week Ten

Week Eleven

Week Twelve

Week Thirteen

Week Fourteen

Week Fifteen

Week Sixteen

Week Seventeen

Week Eighteen

Week Nineteen

Week Twenty

[winchesterprincessbride]

Bring It, Winchester

This fic was written for 2 challenges. (1) The gorgeous @atc74   Break the Zone Challenge 4.  The prompt was “We’re all the same height laying down.”  (2) the ravishing @thing-you-do-with-that-thing SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge-Week 17.  The prompt was “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

Characters-Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader

“I don’t know why we even bother, Dean.  As soon as you get a few drinks in you, you’re gonna start making eyes at some horny bimbo and bail like you always do.” I grumbled, taking a long swallow of my beer.

“She’s not wrong, Dean.” Sam agreed.

Dean frowned. “I don’t always do that.  I stayed with you guys last week.  We played pool.”

“Yeah, ONE time.  Face it, Dean, you’re a man-whore.”  I grinned.

“You two are just jealous because neither of you is getting any,” Dean said, smirking at the brunette who was eyeing him from the bar.

I looked over at Sam.  “Wanna get drunk, fellow virgin?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam said, clinking his beer with mine. 

A few hours later, Dean was nowhere to be found, and Sam and I were wasted.

“So Sammy, tell me something I don’t know about you,” I questioned, twirling my empty beer bottle around in my hands.

“Like what?” He asked with a dopey, drunken grin.

“Like why you don’t hook up as much as Dean does.  You’re just as hot as he is….more so in my opinion.”  He grinned at me and I clapped my hands over my mouth.  I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.  The fact that I wanted to jump Sam’s bones was a secret I would take to my grave.

“So you think I’m hot?” He asked, smiling at me lazily.

“Shut up.  You could have any girl in here.  Why don’t you ever try?” I had always wondered, and the alcohol was making me bold.

He blushed a bit and I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. “Come on, Sam. Tell me. I swear I won’t say anything.  Promise.”

“I think I’ve had enough.  Wanna walk back to the motel?” He asked me.

“Yeah.  Neither of us is in any shape to drive.”  I flagged down the waitress and settled our tab.

We walked in silence for a few moments before I spoke.  “You never answered my question.”

He looked sideways at me. “I was hoping you’d forget.”

“Do you KNOW me?”

He let out a breath.  “Most women can’t handle me.” He said shortly.

“I know your Gigantor and all, but we’re all the same height laying down, Sammy,” I told him.

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N.  They can’t handle me….physically.” He said, clearly embarrassed.

“Oh….OH.”

“I can’t believe you made me say it out loud!” Sam muttered.

“Then they’re not doing it right.” I supplied helpfully.

Sam turned and looked at me. “Says the girl who is a foot shorter than me. Trust me. I could hurt a girl your size if I’m not careful.”

I stared right back at him.  “Do you think your size intimidates me? Just the opposite.  I think it’s hot.  Screw careful.  Careful is boring.” Sam swallowed hard.

We had arrived at the door of my room and we just stood there staring at each other. Finally, I spoke.  “You don’t look convinced.  I think this requires a demonstration.”

I opened the door of my room and turned to him “you coming?” I asked.  He followed me in and kicked the door shut with his foot. 

“The other reason I don’t hook up with people is that I’m already in love with you, so what’s the point?” Sam told me before he leaned down and kissed me hard.

I fisted the front of his shirt as I pulled him towards me.  “Bring it, Winchester.”

@skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it @pinknerdpanda  @atc74 @jayankles  @notnaturalanahi @midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals @winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog @essie1876 @bohowitch @just-another-busy-fangirl @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @keelzy2 @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis @oriona75 @frankiea1998 @akshi8278 @stylinson531 @valynsia @dr-dean @theoutlinez  @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek    @luciisthebest  @laurenisnot @maddieburcham1  @canadianjelly @muliermalefici @brewsthespirit-blog @ilsawasanacrobat @nanie5 @weasleywinchester-blog @samisimportant @fatalcrossbow  @violetsamalamb @letmusicguideu @grantsgorgeousgirl @faegal04 @feelmyroarrrr  @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

[notnaturalanahi]

Bloody business

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 350

Warnings: Mentions of period blood. (@plaidstiel-wormstache I was kinda inspired)

A/N: Little cracky drabble, unbeta’d. This is my contribution to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge - Week 18

Dialogue prompt:  There is so much blood

Wanna join my tag list? Also feedback is always awesome!!

Bloody business

“There is so much blood!” Dean exaggerates inspecting the pictures from the crime scene.  

“HA!” you can’t help the lonely cackle, he’s like a little kid sometimes.

“What,” he asks taking a bite of his extra onions, extra beans, super cheesy mega burrito.

“You’re hilarious, that’s nothing.” Wiping your lips not that carefully, you’re done playing FBI agent for the day so it doesn’t  matter if you smudge your lipstick, you look up at him from your empty plastic container. “I’ve seen more blood in my toilet,” you laugh getting up to clean your side of the motel table.

“TMI, Y/N! Still, this is lot of blood!” Dean speaks around a mouthful.

“Pffft bullshit!” you defend. “I once woke up on a pool of my own blood.” Dean gives you a weird look as you sit down but says nothing so you keep going. “I open my eyes, sit up in bed and suddenly I feel this gooey sensation so I lift the sheets and look down-”

“Okay…” he lifts one finger up, like he’s trying to make you stop before his hand takes the beer bottle next to him and takes a big chug.

“Nono but really,” you insist, determined on finishing your story. “I look down and I’m drenched. I mean literally soaked in blood, from the waist down! And it goes down my legs up to my-”

“I get it!” Dean finally interrupts. “I get the picture, this ain’t that much blood,” his empty hand waves above one of the pictures. “I’m sorry I brought it up!!”

You laugh. “It's fine dumbass, I’m just messing with you. It is a lot of blood, though. They guy’s spleen exploded.” you keep on cackling and he chews the last of his burrito, eyes fixed on you.

“You’re an ass!” It’s all he says once he finishes and proceeds to get up and toss the trash.

“I know,” you smile mischievously, “and love me.”

“Yeah.” he plops back down on his chair.

“So,” you push the files from the way and lean on the table. “Wanna have period sex?”

Everything: @nadiandreu7

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Dean/Jensen: @anokhi07

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[revwinchester]

The Cookies!

Summary: Sam and the reader have a night alone in the bunker

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: None?  Maybe one curse word?  Sam’s a little bit of a horn dog, but that’s canonical so we already knew that...

Word Count: 449

A/N: Just a wee bit of Sam fluff for this week’s Hiatus Challenge dialogue prompt!  Thanks for hosting @thing-you-do-with-that-thing!  Based on true events.

"You know," Sam began, a slight smirk on his face, "Dean's gone to the bar... he'll probably be out until tomorrow morning." You were wrapped up in a book, barely paying attention to the younger Winchester's words but an idea had sparked so you put the book down and turned to look at him, inviting him to continue. "It's just you and me tonight, we can do whatever we want."  Sam's expression turned predatory and you smiled up at him. You stood, smiling up at Sam and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Mmm... I think I've got a few ideas," you purred, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the library. Two hours later Sam had you pinned against the bunker's refrigerator. You were both covered in sweat and there was a handprint on your ass. A white handprint. "You know, baking wasn't quite what I had in mind," Sam murmured into your ear before shaking the flour out of his hair and letting it rain down onto you. He then plucked the spatula that you had just used to fling batter at him - which had resulted in him chasing you around the kitchen and eventually catching you in front of the fridge - from your hand. Sam collected the rest of the batter from the spatula and smeared it across your cheek before dodging out of your way. You laughed as you took up the chase. Both of you were covered with flour and sugar and you weren't positive that there were going to be any cupcakes. At least the two of you had managed to get some cookies into the oven before the battle had gotten underway. "Your ass is mine, Winchester!" You shrieked as Sam flung more of the unbaked cake in your direction. Sam's reaction surprised, you, though. Instead of running, he turned back and rushed towards you. Sam grabbed you around the waist and lifted you up onto the counter top. He leaned in close and then whispered, "this ass will always be yours," before kissing you fiercely. Your fingers threaded through Sam's hair and things were starting to get heated. You're free hand pulled Sam's flour covers flannel off of his shoulders and then slipped under his t-shirt before you used both hands to tug it over his head. Sam had just begun work on the buttons of your shirt when something in the kitchen started buzzing and you pushed him away. "The cookies!" You gasped, catching your breath and hopping down from the counter. "The cookies," Sam grumbled. Then he looked at you with a wicked glint in his eye. "They have to cool before we can eat them, right?"

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) one of my tag lists, just shoot me an ask and let me know! <3

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Mooselings: @jared-padaloveme

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[summer-binging-spn]

Brain Bleach

Word Count: 545

Warnings: Nudity, cursing,

Pairing: Winchester Sister Reader x Winchester brothers

Author's Note: So this is for @winchesters-favorite-girl​ ‘s blogaversary challenge. Thank you so much for being so kind when I couldn’t get it published on time. I used the prompt “My god you are a drama queen,” it’s bolded. I know it’s insanely late, but it’s here. This is also for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​  ‘s week 12 of the 2017 hiatus challenge. I used the dialogue prompt, “Don’t make it into a big deal.” – “I’ll never unsee that,” it is in italics.

Masterlist

“Hey Dean, have you seen my,” you say as you open the door to the hotel room. When you look up from your book you are met with Dean on top of a girl.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” you blurt and struggle to get out the door fast enough. The image of Dean’s bare ass forever burned into your mind. The horror must be burned onto your face as Sam makes his way from Baby.

“I was trying to come tell you not to go in there,” he says, with a sympathetic smile.

“Scarred for life,” you mumble and follow him back to Baby.

“I’m sure you are,” Sam says, pulling you into his side.

“I didn’t know he brought her here, I was seriously hoping they went to wherever she calls home,” you grumble, pulling your jacket tighter around you as you get into the car.

“Me too,” he mumbles from the front seat.

“I hate sleeping in here, yes Baby has been good to us but it’s so cold,” you say softly.

“You usually bring blankets for the road,” Sam says.

“I left them on the table and didn’t realize until an hour down the road,” you explain softly.

“Goodnight Sammy,” you whisper.

“Goodnight,” he mutters and you turn to face the seat and drift to sleep in the freezing car.

“Wakey wakey,” Dean says shaking you, waking you from your fitful slumber.

“Go away,” you groan and bury your face further into the seat.

“C’mon we’ve gotta get going,” he says, opening the door a little further and pulling your leg.

“I can’t, I’m mentally scarred,” you mumble, the image from last night popping into your head.

“Don’t make it into a big deal,” he rolls his eyes.

“I’ll never unsee that,” you say, looking up at your oldest brother.

“Oh c’mon, you should’ve known to at least knock,” he states, a frown etched onto his features.

“I’ll never find enough brain bleach to get rid of it,” you mumble, shaking your head at him.

“My god you are a drama queen,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“You’re just now figuring this out?” Sam jokes from beside him.

“I saw my older brother’s ass I’m mentally scarred,” you cry at him. Dean chuckles bitterly and walks away from Baby.

“Y/n I know you’re scarred but Dean feels awful about you walking in on him,” Sam says softly.

“He should’ve went back to hers,” you grumble, knowing you should have knocked.

“I know,” Sam mumbles and you step out of Baby stretching.

“What time is it?” you ask softly.

“Eight thirty?” Sam says, unsure.

“Awesome,” you mumble, walking towards Dean.

“Dean,” you say tapping him on the shoulder.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m sorry I was so upset, it’s just a sight I didn’t think I’d ever have to see. I was a little shocked, you usually go back to hers or use Baby,” you say.

“It happened so fast, I’m so sorry,” he whispers and hugs you.

“It’s okay, I know I should’ve knocked but you could’ve sent me a text,” you state softly.

“I know,” he mumbles.

“I think you owe me some coffee and some breakfast,” you grin up at him.

“Alright,” he nods and leads you back to Baby.

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Pranks & Violence

A/N: It’s the last week of Hiatus 2017!  So for the final week of the Hiatus Writing Challenge being hosted by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, I’ve knocked up this short crack-filled fic.

Summary: Playing pranks is never a good idea as Sam finds out first-hand. 

Word Count: 417

Characters: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Little bit of violence but all entirely deserved.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“You idiots can bang on the door for as long as you like, but I’m not coming out.  I am not leaving this space until I can sort out this absolute bloody disaster.”

The pounding of fists on your bedroom door got louder as both Sam and Dean tried to get you to leave the sanctuary of the only place in the entire bunker that you now considered to be safe.  As he started to get more irritated with you, Dean raised his voice which soon found its way to your ears.

“Come on Y/N.  This is so not the time or place for this. We have to get on the road.  We promised Bobby that we’d be there before sundown.”

“Then have fun on that long journey without me!  I cannot go outside looking like this.”

What sounded distinctly like a giggle echoed in the hallway.  Just hearing the laughter of the man that was the sole cause of your current predicament was enough to boil your blood. An overwhelming sense of anger gave you all the motivation you needed to jump to your feet and pull the door open. The force with which you did so caused Sam, who had been leaning on the door, to fall down ending up in a heap at your feet.  As he raised his head to look at you, a fit of fresh laughter erupted from him and it was all you could do not to slap the smirk right off his face as he mocked the problem you were facing.  

“Sam, I swear to god that if you don’t shut the hell up, I am going to cause you so much pain.  This is all your fault – dammit, don’t you know when to end a prank war?!”

Quickly getting back to standing position, Sam tried to regain some form of self-control.  

“I’m sorry Y/N.  Honestly, I never meant for it to go so far.”

“YOU PUT PINK DYE IN MY SHAMPOO!  I look like I’ve got a pile of cotton candy on my head.  How am I going to put the fear of god into whatever it is we’re hunting when I look so ridiculous?”

“But you look so cute, princess.”

Six words.  Six words was all it took for the last vestiges of calmness to leave your body and for you to swing into action.  The last thing Sam felt before he fell to the floor again was the sting as your fist connected with his nose.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Tagging: @waywardimpalawriter  @eileenlikesyou-maybe @hexparker  @zepppie  @helvonasche  @mysteriouslyme81 @mamaredd123  @madamelibrarian  @chainez-8  @babypieandwhiskey  @supernatural-jackles @wheresthekillswitch @jensen-jarpad  @deathtonormalcy56 @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel  @notnaturalanahi  @just-another-busy-fangirl  @casbabydontgoineedyou @redlipstickandplaid  @jared-padaloveme @jayankles @autopistaaningunaparte  @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @katymacsupernatural

[wayward-marvel-sommer1196]

Cheating

Pairing: Dean x Reader; Sam x platonic!reader

Warnings: Language, cheating (pls don’t hate me), slight feelings of inadequacy, slight descriptions of injuries, arguing, fighting, ANGST

Word Count: 2006

A/N: This was written for @wideawakeandwriting ‘s 100 followers challenge. My prompts were “My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?” and “You’re cute when you’re worried.” This was also written for Kari’s @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Week 14 Hiatus Challenge. The prompt was “I never wanted to hurt you.” Admittedly, this took a way angstier turn than originally planned. Please don’t hate me and beware of the ANGST. No beta and feedback always welcomed and appreciated.

Summary: After a grueling hunt Dean’s phone goes off to show you something you never expected. Will this change yours and Dean’s relationship? 

You were laying in bed at the most recent motel you guys were staying at and Dean was currently in the shower. Sam got himself a different room because …. well …. you and Dean just needed to have your own room.

You all had just gotten back from your latest hunt, a demon hunt. Those sons of bitches were the worst. This demon in particular was just trying to draw you and the Winchesters out which would have been good information to know before you went after the damn thing. It was a pretty intense battle once you had found it. He had a few henchmen that were on the larger side and could easily take the guys, which was saying a lot. The fight was brutal, but as always, the bad guys lost and you guys won.

However, that didn’t mean you didn’t walk away without some souvenirs of your own. You and the guys got pretty beaten up and got some nasty gashes. You more so than them but you didn’t want them to know that. You had to keep up your tough girl fassod. Although that was quickly fading as the pain started to settle in.

You tried to move to get more comfortable when you saw Dean’s phone light up and heard it vibrate on the night stand and grabbed it out of curiosity. You saw that it was a message from a woman named Leslie.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. It was one thing if a woman was sending him a racy photo, but this woman …. Leslie, she was implying they had done something. This couldn’t be true. Dean, your boyfriend of two years, friend for five before that, couldn’t be cheating on you. He would never, would he?

Just as you were getting out of bed, Dean was walking out of the bathroom still a little wet in just his boxers. He looked at you and noticed the look on your face. It was a mix of confusion, worry, anger, and sadness. So, he did what he did best, made it into a joke, not having a clue what he was walking into.

“You’re cute when you’re all worried. What’s up babe?” he said.

“I don’t know you tell me,” you said your voice dripping with venom as shoved the phone into Dean’s face. His eye’s widened at the discovery. “There’s only one woman that should be sending you pictures like this and my name isn’t Leslie …. so, who’s Leslie?”

“She’s nobody.”

“Looks like somebody to me,” you screamed as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. “She said y’all had fun. What did you have fun doing with Leslie, Dean?”

“Y/N, I – it was one ti- “

“God damnit, Dean! Don’t you dare say it was only once. Once is all it fucking takes! When?”

“What?”

“When did this happen?”

“Two months ag, when you went on that solo hunt, but I swear it meant nothing. She means nothing.”

“You mean the solo hunt I almost died on? The hunt that I came staggering back in the bunker with my guts hanging out only being held in by my hands? That hunt?” you screamed clutching your new injuries on your abdomen as that pain was getting worse.

Dean didn’t seem to notice your pain. His response to you was a meek nod.

“Nice Dean, while I was dying you were off fucking some skank.”

“Y/N, please just listen. She didn’t mean anything. I swear,” Dean pleaded with you tears now running down his cheeks.

“But she does, Dean. She means I can’t trust you. She means that I wasn’t good enough for you. She means everything Dean because she is the end of us.”

“Y/N, babe. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, wait.”

“Stop, Dean. You did hurt me. I waited too long to finally call you mine, but apparently you never were. We’re done, Dean. I’m done.”

“Baby, please,” Dean choked out between sobs. He knew he had messed up.

“Sorry, you had your shot Dean. You literally did the one thing that would end this relationship and it seems like you didn’t give a rat’s ass.”

“But I do.”

“Too little too late,” you said clutching your stomach once again feeling the blood seep through your shirt. You turned around sobbing and walked out the door.

You knew you needed help and you knew the only place you had left to go was Sam. You knocked on his door and he answered.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Sam said with concern on his face.

“S-Sammy, I need your help,” you said through pain and tears.

Sam looked downed and saw the blood and quickly ushered you into the room. He led you to the bed and lifted your shirt to see the damage and quickly grabbed the first-aid kit and got to work.

“Y/N, is this from the hunt?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell one of us?”

“I needed to be tough like you guys, but it got bad and I was going to have Dean help me until… ooowww!”

“Sorry, I’m almost done sweetheart. Why didn’t you have Dean help?”

“H-he cheated on me, Sammy. We got into a fight and I stormed out and came here,” you said between sobs.

Sam clenched his jaw and finished stitching you up and headed towards the door.

“Sammy where are going?”

“To kick my dick of brother’s ass for being an idiot.”

“No, Sammy please, don’t. Please just stay with me. Lay with me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll lay with you.” You snuggled into Sam’s arms and fell into a deep sleep.

You woke up to hear arguing outside the motel door.

“Dean, what the fuck? How the hell could you do that to her?” Sam yelled.

“I don’t know, okay? Just why the hell was she in your arms?”

“Because she came to me in tears and bleeding. Dean did you even see the gash on her stomach? It was bad.”

“She said she was fine.”

“So, we all say that when we know that we aren’t. Dean she could have bleed out and you had no clue.”

“Fuck.”

After that Sam came strolling back into the room to find you awake. He gave you a sad smile and approached the bed.

“Hey sweetheart are you ready to go?”

“My stuff is still in Dean’s room.”

“It’s in the Impala. I got it for you. Do you want to ride in a different car? I can “borrow” one if you want. I know it has to be hard to face him.”

“It’s fine Sam. I’ll be fine.”

Okay so you might have miscalculated how fine things would be. The car ride back to the bunker was long and awkward. Dean was constantly staring into the rearview mirror at you looking sad and guilty, you just scowled back at him. Sam tried to ease the tension to no avail.

You went to go to your room, but Dean stopped you.

“Y/N, can we talk, please?” Dean said.

“No, I’m tired and sore. I’m going to bed.”

“Please baby- “

“Stop, you lost the right to call me that. I wasn’t kidding Dean. We are done. You know my past, my father cheated on my mother and my ex-husband of two years cheated on me for the entirety of our marriage. These are things I told you and cheating was the one thing I could never tolerate. I can handle your drinking, your moods, and your issues because god knows I have my own. But, Dean you knew and you did it anyway. So, I’m done,” you said with finality as you turned with tears in your eyes.

At that moment, you realized you couldn’t stick around the bunker anymore. It hurt too much to see Dean every day. It hurt too much to be reminded of what you lost. As much as you would have liked to take his apology and start over, you couldn’t. That would always be in the back of your mind and that wasn’t fair to either you or Dean.

You took out some paper and a pen and wrote a letter to each Winchester. Despite this decision you still loved them both, you needed them to know that. After you finished, you packed all your belongings and left the letters on the bed. You made sure both guys were sleep and slipped out into the night never to look back at the bunker or the Winchesters again.

The next morning Sam came to your room to check on you and see how you were doing only to find it empty aside from the two letters with his and Dean’s name scribbled on them. He picked up his letter and began to read.

Sammy,

First, I need you not to kill Dean okay? I know you are going to blame him but this was my decision. Truth is, yeah Dean hurt me but this life, I’m not built for it. This was the second time in a couple months that I almost bled out because of a hunt. I need out of this life and I know that you guys won’t ever leave it so this was for the best. And like I said Dean hurt me and it is just too hard to see him day in and day out and not picture him with that woman. This is for the best for all of us, Sammy. It wouldn’t be fair to me or Dean if I stayed. We would be miserable and that wouldn’t be fair to you. I love you Sammy. You are the big brother I never knew I always wanted. Since I came into your life you have always been there for me and I really appreciate that and I’m sorry I can’t be there for you. You and Dean will always be my family but I have to leave. I’m sorry for doing this, this way.

                                            I wish you the best in life,

                                Your sister from another mister and mother I guess

                                                              Y/N

Sam wiped the tears from his face as he snatched Dean’s letter up and ran to find him.

“Dean!!!! This is your fault! She’s gone and it’s your fault.”

Dean looked at Sam with red puffy eyes that held bags underneath showing his lack of sleep. He figured you would leave, but hoped you wouldn’t. “I know. You’re right. She’s gone and it’s all my fault,” Dean said as he grabbed the letter from Sam’s hand and went to his room and shut the door.

Dean my love,

When I first met you, I knew you were the one. After being with Craig for two years and being miserable you were my light. I took so long to finally admit my feelings and I guess that went to my disadvantage. You were the love of my life, hell you still are, but you hurt me Dean and I can’t see passed that. I know this hurts and for that I’m sorry but this is the only way. I can’t stay there every day and see you and be reminded of what you did. This letter is not meant to yell at you more, I did enough of that. I can’t live the hunter life anymore. I’m not built for it and I know you and Sammy will continue it and I would never ask you to. This is for the best Dean, for all of us. I love you and I always will, but I need you to not look for me. I need you to move on. I need you to be happy so that way we can all be happy. That’s all I want is for you to be happy.

                                                       I wish you the best in life,

                                              The one who got away (and will always love you)

                                                                                     Y/N

Dean stared at the letter the tears falling. He really fucked up and now you were gone. Gone from his life. Forever.

Tag List: 

All SPN: 

@jensen-jarpad

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@sisterwinchesterwriter

@27bmm

@deanjensengirlmaggie

@lenaabs

@a-fan-fighting-for-equality

@mogaruke

@internationalmusicteacher

@mashed-fandom-imagines

@maddybeck01

@justanotherdeangirl

Dean/Jensen:

@akshi8278

[deansleather]

Overprotective

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Prompt(s): “What happened doesn’t change anything” for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing hiatus challenge week 10, The Grey Man for @sisterhoodofsam Monster Rejects 

Summary: All you want is to help Sam and Dean with hunts; this is the last thing in the world that Sam wants. You become determined to prove your capability, but sometimes the middle ground is the best place to be, especially when you love somebody. 

If you’d like to join any of my tag lists please message/ ask or add yourself to my google doc tag list! Whatever is easiest for you!

Word Count: 3688

Warnings: injury, blood, a lot of hunting, I tried my hand at a scarier type of writing in parts

A/N:  Kind of a new style (ish), just trying out scary. Please let me know what you think, because FEEDBACK IS LOVED AND NEEDED!!

“Every man I meet wants to protect me. I can't figure out what from.” ― Mae West 

           Sam and you filled the silence only with the clanks of your forks touching plates. Dean had gone out for a drink earlier, and you were too heated to cook, especially not while Sam continued to stew over their current case. Takeout food seemed like the easiest option, except it took away all the simpler ice-breakers. “Dinner tastes great tonight, honey” is a whole hell of a lot easier than “You’re not hunting with us no matter how much you pout.” Sam cleared his throat.

           “Thanks for grabbing take out, Y/n/n,” he said. You nodded curtly.

           “Mhm,” you answered. “Good thing I’m strong enough to do that on my own, right?”

           He rolled his eyes, continuing the dinner into an ever more uncomfortable silence. You were dating a hunter for God’s sake, how did he expect this conversation not to come up? Of course you would want to help. He sat over books for hours, mulling and taking notes as he collected dust along with the rest of their library, leaving you alone in bed. He’d be gone for days, while you were stuck at home worrying. He and Dean were practically leaping in front of bullets to save each other without thought. Was it really all that crazy that you might want to help?

           You took your finished plates to the kitchen, sighing as you began to run the sink. You didn’t expect to become the bunker’s housewife, but you’d slowly morphed into the 50’s stereotype of a woman. Staying home, tidying up and looking after the house while Sam and Dean did all the real work. Screw that. You did your best to contain a growl as Sam wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You remained focused on the dishes.

           “Y/n,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Talk to me.”

           “I’ll talk to you all night, Samuel,” you said. “But you don’t like my conversation topic.”

           “Bringing out the full name? Ouch.” You could feel him smirk. You’d yet to find anything amusing. “Look, it’s not that I think you can’t hunt, I just-“

           “No, that’s exactly what it is.” You spun around, poking at his chest with a soapy finger. “For whatever reason, you think I’m some prissy princess who can’t fend for herself. May I remind you, we met after I saved myself from a vampire?” His mouth was slightly agape as he fought for the words to say.

           “Yes, I remember Y/n, the head on the floor and all. Why would you want that to be your everyday life?”

           “Because I chose to date a man who hunts monsters. I knew what I was signing up for Sam.”

           “Yes, the worry, the stress, the fear.” Sam’s voice raised slightly. “You’re already sacrificing so much just being around us, why add more pressure?”

           “I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I was out there helping you bozos instead of stuck here like your maid!” Sam sighed, his exasperation just irking you more.

“I’ve always offered to help with cleaning, I was the one who did it before you moved in.”

“That’s not why I’m mad and you know it,” you muttered, pushing past him. Just as you were about to leave the kitchen, he called out to you.

“I don’t care how long you’re mad, Y/n.” His voice grew stern, though he just looked exhausted. “You’re not hunting with us. Ever.”

You held back from cursing, continuing to stalk off to your room, locking the door behind you. Fine, you thought. If I can’t hunt with you, I guess I’ll just do it myself.

~~~

           You rubbed your eyes, your hands tight on the wheel as you tried to fight your sleepiness. Exhaustion made you lose nearly all your speed, reflexes, and even some of your intelligence. It wasn’t the best state to be driving in, especially at night, but you were too close to the bunker to grab a hotel room for the night. After your fight with Sam, you became determined to find your own case and solve it by yourself, but that turned out to be quite difficult with them constantly on the lookout for cases, not to mention you shared a room with Sam. It was beyond frustrating, you felt like a grounded teen, stuck in the house all day. Today, you just couldn’t take it anymore, going out in the early morning and driving all day, leaving nothing but a note for Sam and then turning your phone off. It felt good to just drive, stopping only when you were hungry or there was something you wanted to see, but after a full day of it, your butt and legs were practically screaming at you.

           It was a straight shot, just continue down the back road and you’d eventually merge onto the gravel that led to the bunker. You could probably close your eyes right then and there just so long as you kept the wheel straight. Even with as good of a day as you had, a sense of unease crawled up your spine, the back of your neck feeling as though needles were pricking near your hairline. You turned on the car’s brights, keeping an intense eye on the world around your car. Something wasn’t right.

           Your hands held so tight to the wheel you were afraid you might break it, a cold sweat breaking on your forehead. What the hell was happening? Your breathing became labored as your chest collapsed in on itself, or at least it felt like. A panic attack had struck you, seemingly out of nowhere. As you continued down the road, your head lights did little to break through the thick fog. You couldn’t see at all, your only indication you were going the right way the gravel crunching beneath the weight of your car. The panic attack subsided, but the air of stress remained, your whole body hot with dread.

           Multiple things happened at once; all so fast you could hardly see any of it. You had cracked the window, just for the hope of some cool air. Just as you did, the fog began to enter the car, looking thicker than you’d remembered fog to. It stifled your breathing, and just as you were about to close the window, a dark cloaked figure emerged from the fog, standing mere feet away from the front of your car. Your instincts finally kicked in, and you quickly turned out of the way, the fog pushing you even harder in the direction. You were confused by the assistance until you saw what lied ahead; a large, impenetrable oak. As quick as your stressed body could, you slammed on the breaks, closing your eyes for what you hoped to be a gentle crash.

           Opening one eye at first, you took in what you could of your surroundings. No crash, no demonic being standing above you, everything was for the most part intact. With a deep breath, you backed away the from the forest, tearing ass to get home.

           You were freaked out when you finally parked in front of the bunker’s door but did your best to push it down. The boys were occupied with looking into some vamp case down south, there was no talk of a mysterious figure that fucked with you in the fog. There was no way you imagined it, no matter how exhausted you were, and you’re mind kept replaying the night over and over. You had just found your first solo case.

~~~

           Things were relatively quiet for a while after the incident. Truth be told, you didn’t even know where to begin with research, the bunker’s library so vast and seemingly unorganized. You figured there probably was some method to the chaos, Sam got around pretty easy, but you just couldn’t seem to pin it down. Besides, you really didn’t want to raise suspicions, and lugging around hundred-pound books definitely would. So, until you could figure out a better angle, you went along with your normal business.

           Even with dropping it for a bit, your mind was still consumed, making you a little airier to those around you. Sam was worried, but mostly just glad you were talking to him again. Dean was oblivious to your drama as per usual, too caught up in his own mental state to worry about much else around him. You tried to find joy in your usual passions; reading, TV, sleeping. None of it worked, the dark figure from that foggy night haunted your every thought.

           The boys eventually gathered up enough data to go hunt the vamps, their packing making you both anxious and eager. Finally, you were getting the chance to solve a case on your own, prove to both yourself and the boys that you were more than capable, but fear seemed to trickle slowly into your mind. What if you couldn’t handle it? If you died, you knew that both Sam and Dean would surely feel to blame, holding that guilt until their last breath. Were you just being silly, rebelling against the perfectly comfortable status quo? The thoughts seemed to swallow you whole, but the brothers were off before you could change your mind, a sweet kiss from Sam as your hopefully temporary goodbye.

           It was only a couple days since they’d left, but you already felt like you were going insane. You were certain that Sam must have magic powers, as there was no way in hell that there was a rhyme or reason to the library. You were alone in the bunker, too scared to go outside without some solid lead on not only what you were hunting, but how to kill the bastard. After day four, you decided to consume your thoughts into another healthier passion; cooking.

           You opened the fridge with slight apprehension, for whatever reason. What, was the monster hiding in the veggie drawer? You knew better, but something did feel off. As you stood peering into the fridge, the most horrendous smell began emanating out, making you grimace and quickly slam it shut. Immediately, that sense of dread returned, just like the night of your almost wreck, crawling up and down your spine. You went into overdrive, doing everything you could think of to protect yourself. You grabbed out an iron knife and a flask of holy water, some salt from the cabinet, and a cross from the wall, hurrying to the couch. You quickly sprinkled a circle of salt all around it, hopping in with just seconds to spare. As you looked around, you saw the thick fog surrounding you, closing in ever so slowly. It was almost cruel, how slowly it was moving towards you, just stretching out the anticipation. Your breathing was labored, your head feeling light. You should’ve called the boys, but even at your lowest point, you couldn’t put down your stubborn ways.    

           You were about to bite the bullet and just call when you noticed the fog had stopped. Looking down, it paused at the circle of salt, wrapping around and searching for a crack. You sighed heavily, rubbing your face in relief.

           “Well,” you muttered to yourself. “Looks like I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

~~~

           Luckily, when you woke up the fog was gone, but that didn’t stop you from taking a few hours to leave the safety of the salt ring. Eventually, your stomach yelled at you to brave the kitchen. The smell from the night before remained, making you gag. As you peered into the fridge you noticed all perishables were moldy, even the freshest stuff. You scavenged the cabinets, and the only thing you could find that wasn’t decomposing before your eyes was a box of crackers. It would have to do.

           You ran to the bedroom, grabbing your laptop and some more practical, possible-hunt clothes, shamelessly returning to your hideout on the couch as fast as possible. You knew it wasn’t “professional” (was that even a thing when it came to hunting?) but you resorted to google. It wasn’t like you were getting very far with the bunker’s resources anyway.

           Nothing for fog monsters fit, neither for car accident monsters. You went through every possible wording of your situation and nada. With a jaded sigh, you attempted one last useless search; rotten food monster. It was laughable, but it was all you had left. Of course, nothing grand came up instantly, but you did look through some online food forums, just for the hell of it. You were ready to give up, but then you read the latest comment.

           The potato rot has been increasingly bad for me as well. It has been quite foggy in Ireland lately, perhaps I’ve got the Fear Liath after me!

           You read the line over and over. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Entering in the name she had used, you miraculously found some leads at last. The Fear Liath, or The Grey Man as he was more casually called, originated in Irish and Scottish folk lore. He was an omen, known for causing wrecks. It was all there; the rotting food, the foggy figure, the car crashes. You had finally found your monster. Now; how to kill the thing.

           It was considered a fairy, so the salt and iron knife were key, but not so much on the holy water. Still, you didn’t think you could exactly stab the thing, not without being able to see within the fog. There had to be a way. Fifteen pages into Google later, you finally found something.

           “The Grey Man was once considered a God until the surge of Christianity demoted him to fae. He is said to be bitter about it still, his wrath falling particularly hard on those with religious affiliation.” You were friends with an angel, after all. “If you feel The Grey Man is haunting you, get him off your back with a simple Christian prayer. The more iron crosses, the better.”

           It seemed way too simple, but what options did you have? With a deep breath, you emerged from your salt circle, grabbing the few iron crosses from the walls. You looked up the first prayer you could think of, holding your phone and the crosses in a death grip as you left the bunker. You hadn’t thought about how you’d get him to come back, but you didn’t have to worry long. The same panic washed over you once more, the fog moving in slowly towards you. You swallowed, seeing the outline of The Grey Man within. You held up the crosses, spitting out the prayer as fast as you could. The fog slowly dissipated as you did, but the figure still remained. Why were these damn prayers so long? You tripped over the words as he got closer and closer, the blood rushing to your head, making it difficult to even see the words on your phone. The closer he got, the more intense the panic became. Finally, you reached the end of the prayer.

           You looked up reluctantly, watching as the fog continued to dissipate into weak wisps, the figure within blending out as well. You heard a pained scream come from within the fog, so loud you covered your ears, taking a few steps back. With one more scream, the fog seemed to explode, completely dispersing. You took a few moments to breathe, watching for any other signs of him. As the panic subsided entirely, you felt sure that you had done it. First case down.

           You smiled to yourself, letting out a shocked laugh. You did it, all by yourself, on something as ambiguous as a fog monster. You felt on top of the world, dropping off the crosses and grabbing your keys from the bunker. You drove to a dive bar not far from the bunker, feeling the need for a celebratory drink. You usually left the drinking to Dean, but after the anxiety of the last few days, you felt you deserved it. You no more than parked when your phone began to ring. Sam. You answered in a cheerful tone, finding it difficult not to gloat right then and there.

           “Hey baby, what’s up?”

           “Y/n,” he said, his voice thick. Your eyebrows pulled together.

           “Are you crying? What’s going on?”  You revved your engine, tearing back onto the road without second thought. That was a no on the drink, you guessed.

           “There’s…there’s so many of them. They have Dean. I’ve called every hunter I can think of, no one’s picking up. Not even Cas.” It was the first time you’d ever heard Sam so scared; he hardly ever showed it when he was.

           “Send me the address,” you said. “I’m on my way.”

~~~

           You drove past some old building’s parking lot. While abandoned, there were plenty of cars parked. You continued on, parking on the side of the street where you saw the Impala. He had parked near a cornfield, the high stalks hiding both of you from any peering eyes. You hopped out the car, running into Sam’s arms as he leaned against the Impala.

           “Oh Y/n,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he nuzzled into your neck. “I’m so sorry I had to bring you into this.”

           “Stop it,” you said, pulling back slightly. You patted his cheek, looking him in the eyes. “I’d do anything for both of you. I’m glad you’re finally letting me help.” He swallowed, obviously not as glad as you. You grabbed the keys from his hand, opening up the trunk and grabbing two machetes. You handed one to him.

           “Let’s do this, shall we?” He nodded, leading the way towards the creepy building.

~~~

           You stood, hunched over, taking a moment to catch your breath. They were finally all dead, all the vamps wiped from existence. Somewhere amidst the chaos, you and Sam split up, which was a notoriously bad idea. You went through the rooms of the building tentatively, worried about a last-minute ambush. It seemed all the vamps were truly dead, because you were confronted by a copious amount of blood on the floor, and no one was on their knees with a straw. The only two people in the room were Sam and Dean, Sam only the floor, unconscious.

           “Sam!” You were by him in an instant, feeling his pulse and pushing the hair from his face. “C’mon baby, talk to me.” Unintelligible mumbles. You looked to Dean for guidance. You knew how to deal with killing vamps, researching, hunting, but you had no clue how to deal with this. Dean looked just as panicked, which did little to comfort. In a moment of clarity and pure adrenaline, you realized you needed to move, and quick.

           “Let’s carry him,” you demanded, standing and grabbing one of his arms. Dean followed suit, no questions asked. He looked pretty rough around the edges himself, but you could hardly think about anything but Sam.

           “We need to hurry,” Dean said, more to himself than anything. You nodded.

           “Yeah,” you replied. “Because I’m not losing him.”

           “You and me both, Y/n.”

~~~

           At long last, Sam’s eye fluttered open. Your heart sped, so thankful to see those pretty eyes again. You stood from your uncomfortable chair and moved to him, stroking his hair mindlessly. You hated hospitals with all your might, but you’d live there if it meant being with Sam.

           “Hi baby,” he coughed, his voice raspy. You shook your head.

           “Don’t strain yourself,” you said, stroking his cheek. “Just get better.” He nodded, letting his eyes rest again. You sat on the edge of the hospital bed, the beeping from the machines around you becoming a comfortable lullaby. You held his hand, probably too tight, but you couldn’t let go. You just needed him, needed to know that he was okay.

           “What happened doesn’t change anything,” he rasped, finally breaking the silence.

           “What?”

           “I still don’t want you hunting.” You laughed humorlessly, shaking your head.

           “May I remind you, you’re the one in the hospital bed, not me? And that I’m the one who saved both your ass and Dean’s?”

           “I know,” he groaned. “And I know you’ll hold that over my head forever. But I won’t risk you being in my spot.”

           “You know, I solved a whole case on my own while you were gone,” you said, reveling in your own glory once more. You even shimmied a bit. The beeping on the monitor increased exponentially.

           “What?” His panic was evident, somehow making him look even paler. Suddenly, you didn’t feel as proud. With the look on Sam’s face…you almost felt ashamed. You weighed your options; that case was supposed to be your proving point, the evidence to show you could handle the life. With the condition that he was in and his constant doting over you, you were afraid the news might break him. You shook your head, faking a laugh.

           “I’m kidding, dufus.” He rolled his eyes, smiling in relief.

           “Good, because then I’d have to kill you, and I’d never be able to leave you alone again.” he joked, though there was a serious note to his voice. It was only partly a joke, and you both knew it.

           “Hmm, I don’t know. That sounds pretty nice to me. You know, minus the killing part, of course.”

           He scoffed, looking at your intertwined hands for a moment. His expression softened, his eyes glazing over slightly. He held them up.

           “You see this? Us?” he said. You nodded. “I don’t want to lose this. I can’t.” You sighed. A few days before, you would have debated with him to hell and back, but after seeing Sam in pain… you were tempted to stop him from hunting. You looked out the window, thinking. It couldn’t be dropped; you were dating a hunter, living in a hunter info hub, and friends with an angel. This life was your life now, whether Sam liked it or not. But then you thought back to those nights alone, how terrified and unsure you were. It definitely wasn’t as thrilling as you’d imagined.

           “Alright,” you murmured, looking him in the eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. We’ll take baby steps.”

           “Baby steps?” He raised an eyebrow, a subtle smirk forming on his lips. He always loved your little deals.

           “Yeah. You know, there’s no need to become a full-on hunter at once. I just ask that you let me tag along and help when I can.” You smiled, flitting your eyelashes at him. “Deal?” He groaned, but nodded.

           “How am I supposed to say no to that face?” You giggled, leaning down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw, both of you smiling into the kiss. “But I still might never leave you alone again. You know, just for…safe keeping.”

           “I’ll allow it,” you relented, lying beside him in the bed. You rested your hand on his chest, just thankful to still feel a beat. No matter what, you could never lose that.

~~~~~~~

It’s late so I’m adding Michelle’s and the Pond’s tags later

Forever and Sam Tags: 

@jarnesbrnes @spnashley @aprofoundbondwithdean @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysupernaturalfics @waywardlullabies @teamfreewill-imagine  @lucifer-in-leather @sunkissedsamantha @chaos-and-the-calm67 @purgatoan @stardustsam @secret-stashes @supernatural-jackles @winvhesters @nerdwholikesword @frenchybell @feelmyroarrrr @obsessedwithmisha @wanderingcas @diestiel @kittenofdoomage @fandommaniacx @trinityjadec @hanny-banannyyy  @nothingtoworryaboat @growningupgeek @d-s-winchester @mysteriouslyme81 @jensen-jarpad @deathtonormalcy56 @jpadjackles @mogaruke @satans666thdaughter @bobbysingerismybaby @keepcalmandcarryondean @thinkwritexpress-official @ruprecht0420 @My-Favorite-Fiction67 @deanjensengirlmaggie @bohowitch @captain-princess-rose @ophcelia @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wildfirewinchester @muliermalefici @beachy2014

[allfandomxreader]

Melody Made for Two

Pairings: Cas x Reader Words: 341 Warnings: None A/N: Week 8 of the Writing Hiatus Challenge 7017!

Your feet carry you absentmindedly through the corridors of the bunker, the cold wood chills your feet as you peek through doors you’ve never opened. Your home remained a mystery you were determined to solve. Door after door was storage spaces and dull spare bedrooms, most of them, however, remained empty. It fills your head with ideas of what you or the boys could do with the extra space.

The final door creaks open exposing the beautiful instrument you fell in love with years prior. Your hand glides along the exterior of the piano, dust clings onto your fingers as you wipe away the years of neglect it endured.

A melody you haven’t heard in years fills the silence the room holds. Your fingers dance across the keys with ease knowing every chord by heart. Your eyes flutter closed feeling so absorbed in the music the world around you disappears.

Warmth spreads through your shoulder as a hand brings you out of your music, you jump at the sudden presence of someone. “I did not mean to frighten you,” Castiel admits, quickly removing his palm from your shoulder.

“Oh, Cas,” You sigh. You shift to the right allowing Cas to sit beside you on the bench. Cas awkwardly shuffles until he is seated comfortably. “Can you play?” You question with a soft smile.

“No,” Cas smiles to himself, “Out of the thousands of years I have been alive, l have never brought myself to learn piano.” Your hand brings his own up to the piano, positioning them in the simplest of chords.

“It’s never too late to learn,” you rest your hand on top of his, gently pushing his fingers into the keys. Music flourishes around you, a breathtaking song plays on repeat just for you and Cas.

When the song finally came to an end, each pair of hands were sore of movement, the two of you erupted into a fit of laughter and when it died out Cas looks at you with a grin. “Can you do that again?”

[impalasutra]

Sacrifice

Title: Sacrifice Author: @impalasutra

Challenge: @spnkinkbingo, @gabriel-monthly-challenge dialogue prompt, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Hiatus Writing Challenge Week 10 Square Filled: Debriel

Pairing: Dean x Gabriel, AKA Debriel Other Characters: Jo Harvelle

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Cursing, Bondage, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, prostate stimulation, grace sex/grace kink, oral sex, anal sex (m/m, unprotected), Dom/Sub (Dom!Gabe/Sub!Dean)

Word Count: 3646

Summary: Set just before “Changing Channels” (5.08), Dean offers himself as a sacrifice to the Norse god Loki in an attempt to win the god to their cause in stopping the Apocalypse.

A/N: This is for a kink bingo square as well as an entry for the July @gabriel-monthly-challenge.  The dialogue prompt this month was “Listen, it’s my duty as your friend to tell you… I’ll kick you in the kneecap if you decide to go through with this.” It’s in bold in the fic.  It’s also the first line of the fic.  It was also in another (very different) fic I wrote for the same prompt a little over a week ago.  Finally, this is also this week’s entry for the Hiatus Writing Challenge being hosted by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing.  The dialogue prompt for that one is “What happened doesn’t change anything,” which is also in bold.  In other news, I’ve never really considered Debriel before.  I knew it was a thing but it wasn’t a thing that was really on my radar.  I feel like I did the ship some justice, though, and I hope you agree :)

Sacrifice -

“Listen, it’s my duty as your friend to tell you… I’ll kick you in the kneecap if you decide to go through with this.  And that’s just to start, you’ll lose more than just a kneecap if you try it, Dean.”  Jo’s warning was clear as a bell but Dean still pushed back.

“It’s the best plan we’ve got right now, Jo,” he tried to reason with her.  “Sam brought up trying to get the trickster on our side a week ago and he won’t let it go.  I’m not going to let him go and do something stupid like summon the dick.  There’s no guarantee he’ll help if that’s all we do.”  Dean could see that he was finally starting to wear Jo down.  

They had been debating the merits of his plan to offer himself as a sacrifice to Loki for the better part of an hour.  Jo was against it - though Dean was certain the trickster wouldn’t kill him there was no guarantee of that - but even she had to admit that getting the god on their side could help to turn the tide of the Apocalypse.  Dean, on the other hand, had been starting to worry that telling Jo had been a bad idea.  He was certain that the trickster was more than he seemed; smart money said that he was the Norse god of mischief and that the god wouldn’t risk the wrath of the angels by killing him.  Dean’s plan was solid but not without its potential dangers and he wouldn’t have shared it with anyone if he didn’t need help in executing it and Jo was the only one he had been sure he could win over to his side.

Sighing in defeat, Jo asked, “What do you need me to do?”

Dean smiled with his victory but it was short lived as he recounted the entire plan to Jo and then went to the Impala to fetch the necessary supplies.  He returned with a black plastic bag and a long coil of rope.  Having done his own research into the trickster, Dean had realized that the god was a kinky son of a bitch and, once he had formed his plan, he had made a stop at a sex shop on his way to convince Jo to help him.  

“I’ve got a few things I need to do to get ready,” Dean told Jo.  “Could you go inside and grab the rest of the stuff we need while I do that?”  

Dean watched her go into the house before he returned to the Impala to get himself ready.  By the time Jo got back, Dean was shirtless and he had used baby oil to slick up his upper body; his muscles shining in the light of the sunset.  He had also locked his cock in a plastic chastity device but he would never let Jo - or anyone else - know that.  If he was wrong and Loki was going to kill him in return for his help, Dean was going to die an embarrassed man.  

Dean walked over to a large tree and pressed his back against it.  Jo picked up the coil of rope and began winding it around Dean, tying him to the tree.  Once she ran out of rope, she tied it off and grabbed another, shorter coil.  Jo tied one end around Dean’s right wrist before running it behind the tree and attaching it to his left.  She followed suit with his ankles and, finally, ran a piece of rope around the tree that looped across Dean’s neck.  

Once he was thoroughly bound, Jo turned away to prepare the rest of the summoning ritual.  Dean tested the bonds and found he couldn’t escape.  The tree was too large for his hands to reach the knots.  Dean was completely helpless and would be at the mercy of the trickster and he hoped, not for the first time, that he was right in what the trickster would require of him in order to secure his help.  

Jo turned back to Dean and placed a crown of mistletoe on his head.  Then she began combing herbs and other ingredients into a bowl before reciting an incantation in a language Dean didn’t recognize - Old Norse, he figured - and lighting a match and dropping it in the bowl.  

Dean screwed his eyes shut but nothing happened.  Or, at least, Dean didn’t think anything happened.  When he opened his eyes, he expected to be in the same spot where he had been but, instead of summoning the trickster, the spell had sent him to the god’s lair.  

The room was decorated in deep greens and golds and Dean noticed that he was still tied to something but the thing pressing into his back was smooth, not rough like the bark of the tree.  He still couldn’t reach the knots Jo had tied, though.  

“You present yourself to me, Dean Winchester?  On my day?”

The voice was familiar and it made Dean’s skin crawl.  At least he knew he had been right, that the trickster had been Loki.  

“What is it that you ask of me?”

Dean didn’t want to answer.  Now that he was here he was regretting his decision.  But he swallowed his pride and forced air through his vocal chords.  “I need your help.  We need your help; my brother and I…”

Dean was about to continue, to tell Loki about the apocalypse, but he was interrupted.  “My help?  And what do you offer in return, hunter?”

Dean took a deep breath.  This was it; after this there was no turning back.  “I offer myself, my body, in return for your assistance.”

Loki stood from his throne in the hall and walked towards the column where Dean was bound.  He looked over the hunter and Dean thought he liked what he saw.  He heard the god mutter something that sounded oddly like a plea for his brother’s forgiveness.  “Why should I help you, Dean Winchester?  This is not my apocalypse,” Loki’s voice was cold.  “My apocalypse will ride on the back of my child Fenrir.”

“That’s just it, isn’t it?” Dean asked.  “Your apocalypse will never happen if this one does.  Your life as you know it will cease to exist if the majority of humanity is wiped out.  No more dealing out just desserts, no more messing around with deserving humans, no more apocalypse to be ushered in by Fen-rawr, or whatever weirdass name you gave your kid.”  

The god’s eyes flashed and Dean thought he might have him so he pressed on.

“You could help us - Sam and me - you could be a part of ending this.  No more fighting between heaven and hell.  No more arch-douches going to battle on and over the earth,” he tried.  Dean didn’t want to beg but if it came down to it, he would.  He was prepared to do anything in order to stop the apocalypse.  Anything besides let Lucifer ride his brother’s meatsuit.  

Those last points seemed to have an even greater effect on the god.  Dean paused, letting his words sink in as he waited for Loki to speak.

Instead, the trickster waved his hand and released Dean from his bonds.  He studied the hunter for another moment before responding.  “I accept your terms.  Your body for my assistance.”

The room fell silent as the two stared at one another, neither wanting to be the one to speak first.  Loki wanted Dean’s submission but the hunter wasn’t going to give that quite as willingly as he gave himself.

Finally, Dean broke.  He looked around, trying not to let his nerves show through.  “Well, let’s get this show on the road, then.”

The trickster god looked at him with a smirk and cocked an eyebrow.  “You’re not in charge here,” he told Dean, his voice hard but still playful.  Loki snapped his fingers and Dean was suddenly spread naked before him.  

A chair had appeared where he had been standing and the hunter was bound to it.  Metal cuffs attached his wrists and forearms to the chair’s arms and his ankles were attached similarly to the legs of the chair, forcing his legs to spread wide.  A metal collar was wrapped around his neck and, if the lack of available movement was any indication, seemed to be attached to the chair as well.

“You’re mine to play with, now,” the trickster informed Dean with a wicked glint in his eye.

A familiar feeling filled the room, like the buildup of static before a heavy storm or…

“You’re an angel,” Dean realized all too late as he pulled at the metal that held him in place.  

Lightning crashed and Dean caught the shadow of wings but, unlike the other angel’s wings he’d encountered, there were six of them and they seemed to glow gold.  

“Who are you?” he questioned, “And why are you traipsing around pretending to be a Norse god?”  He was in no position to be making demands but Dean needed to know just how screwed he was.

“Calm down, Dean-o.  You summoned me as Loki, this is all part of the deal if you want my help.  I’m not going to…” The trickster - no, angel - tried but Dean’s face made it clear that he wasn’t going to accept anything but the truth.  “Gabriel, alright?  I’m fucking Gabriel.  The messenger.  Now, that’s enough talking.”  

With another snap, tape covered Dean’s mouth and the man shouted into the gag but Gabriel did his best to ignore the hunter as he sauntered down to where Dean was sitting.  

Gabriel let a little grace flow through him, making his whiskey colored eyes glow gold as he gripped Dean’s cock in a firm hand and began stroking with strong, measured movements.  Much to Gabriel’s delight, Dean’s body betrayed the disdain in his eyes and began to respond immediately.  Soon enough, Dean was canting his hips, bucking up into each of Gabriel’s strokes.  Gabriel kept his movements steady as he brought Dean to the edge of an orgasm and then… left him there.  

Gabriel pulled his hand away and straddled Dean’s lap, avoiding any and all contact with the man’s cock.  He leaned forward and sucked one of Dean’s nipples into his mouth, running his tongue across the sensitive nub until the hunter was practically crying with frustration.  He switched to focusing on Dean’s other nipple, this time gently biting down and pulling his head back, repeatedly scraping his teeth over the human’s delightfully warm flesh.  Gabriel could tell that he had Dean worked up but that he wasn’t quite on the verge of cumming anymore so he shifted forward, grinding down onto Dean’s lap as he continued to suck and tug on the hunter’s nipples.

Over and over and over again the trickster angel brought Dean to the edge of an orgasm only to hold him on the precipice of release.  Gabriel used his hands, his mouth - really any part of his body that he could use to bring Dean agonizing pleasure - as he denied the man an orgasm time after time.  Each time Dean felt like he was about to explode, Gabriel pulled away, removing all stimulation and causing Dean to whine into the tape that covered his mouth.

Dean lost count of his almost orgasms somewhere in the second hour, the trickster randomly choosing between forcing him to ride the edge of his orgasm or pulling back immediately as the hunter reached his peak.  Dean wasn’t sure which was worse.

At some point, Gabriel had snapped away the tape that covered Dean’s mouth.  “This will be more fun if I can really hear you,” the archangel had muttered and from the look on Gabriel’s face, Dean’s gasps and moans had not disappointed.  Dean had even begun to beg, which caused the angel’s face to light up with glee.  “You gave me control, Dean,” he reminded the strung out hunter.  “You only get to cum if I desire it,” his had was on Dean’s cock again, stroking the man and driving him ever closer to his elusive release, “and I don’t desire it, yet.”  Gabriel pulled his hand away again and Dean gave a strangled cry.

“Please… please… please…” Dean mumbled repeatedly, as if it were the only word he knew.

Gabriel reached out and wiped a bead of sweat from Dean’s brow that was threatening to drip into his eye.  The gesture was almost tender but even in his overly aroused state, Dean didn’t miss the wicked glint in the trickster’s eye.

“How many was that?” Gabriel asked.  “How many times have I brought you to the edge of orgasm and held you there, only to deny you the pleasure of cumming?”  He cocked an eyebrow at the hunter and waited.

When Dean realized that the archangel was expecting a response, he wracked his brain trying to count.  The last number he recalled was eight but he knew there had been more after that.  Dean tried to count but his brain was so fuzzy and he felt like he was floating despite being shackled to a chair.

“I don’t know,” Dean finally admitted.

Dean was surprised to find that he felt disappointed in his answer - in himself - like he had somehow let down Gabriel, a man - no, a creature - he despised.  “I’m sorry,” he heard himself speak before he had ever decided to say it.

Gabriel’s eyes flared gold and his hand flew to Dean’s cheek.  “You truly are beautiful, Dean Winchester,” he quietly declared, causing the hunter to preen under his scrutiny, “and don’t be sorry, I never instructed you to count.”  Gabriel considered Dean for a moment, taking in the man in front of him and making a decision before he continued speaking.  “Would you like that, though?  If I gave you instructions to follow?”

Dean nodded without even realizing it.

“I denied you your pleasure thirteen times.  Would you have enjoyed those orgasms?” Gabriel asked, already certain of Dean’s answer.  

Dean nodded emphatically.  “Yes,” the word hissed out of his mouth as he felt something wrapping around his cock again.  Gabriel’s hands hadn’t moved, though, and a long, low groan fell from the hunter’s mouth when Dean realized that the archangel was using his grace.

Dean was panting and begging, his hips canting up into Gabriel’s grace when the angel asked his next question.  “Would you like to cum, Dean?”

“Yes, please… fuck… yes…”

Gabriel smiled down on the human.  “Good, because I’ll have them, now.”

Gabriel doubled down on his efforts, his hands taking the place of his grace.  One wrapped around Dean’s cock and stroked it with long, steady movements while the other dropped lower and fondled the hunter’s balls.  He kept him on the edge and just when Dean was sure that the angel was going to change his mind, Gabriel added a twist when his hand reached the tip that sent Dean tumbling over into his release.  

Gabriel worked Dean through his orgasm but when the pleasure ebbed, his hands didn’t stop moving.

The bound man quickly became over sensitive and tried to squirm away but the restraints held him firmly in place.  Dean’s moans turned to whimpers and he was soon begging Gabriel to stop.

“Stop?  Stop touching you?” The archangel asked.

Dean nodded as another wordless cry of frustration and overstimulation fell from his lips.

“But you said you wanted your orgasms and I intend to give them to you.”  Gabriel’s free hand was back on Dean’s balls, massaging and tugging on them.  “All thirteen.  And I want you to count this time.”

Dean’s eyes went wide at Gabriel’s words.  He had been teased for what had to be half the night already, there was no way on earth he could orgasm twelve more times.  However, his cock was betraying him and already hardening under the archangel’s ministrations.  

“I’m not of earth, Dean,” Gabriel reminded him, reading his mind.

A jolt of grace ran through Dean’s body and he was spurting again.  His orgasm subsided but Dean cried out into the night as the archangel gave him no time to recover, using his grace to immediately draw the third orgasm from his body.  

Gabriel stood back for a moment and Dean sighed in relief, thinking that he was going to get a reprieve but the angel’s grace kept up his attack.  Gabe grinned like the cheshire cat when he heard Dean’s groan as he used his grace to stimulate the hunter’s prostate.  The archangel knew that there was only more orgasm that would actually be pleasurable for Dean, two if the human was lucky, and Gabriel wanted to draw this one out.

Once his grace had Dean squirming and mumbling incoherently, Gabriel approached the hunter and dropped to his knees.  He licked his lips and then licked a long stripe up Dean’s cock which, with a little help from the angel’s grace, was hard again.  Gabriel ran his tongue around the head of Dean’s erection before opening his mouth wider and wrapping his lips around the bound man’s cock.  Gabriel began bobbing his head up and down, taking more of Dean’s shaft into his mouth with each pass until the hunter’s cock was bumping against the back of his throat.  He relaxed his muscles and took Dean all the way down as a magically slick finger replaced the grace that had been buzzing against his prostate.  

Dean groaned and tried to buck his hips, either to push his erection deeper into the archangel’s mouth or in an attempt to get away from the warm heat.  Gabriel wasn’t sure which but he didn’t particularly care as he hollowed out his cheeks and dragged his lips up along Dean’s cock and back down again, swallowing around him all while rubbing a finger against his prostate.  

When Gabriel inserted a second finger into Dean, the hunter’s hips pressed forward again, obviously trying to get away from the stimulation this time as the archangel held him on the precipice of his fourth orgasm of the night.  After another few minutes of savoring the sounds Dean was making as he squirmed in his seat, Gabriel took pity on the man and sucked hard, pressing his fingers against his prostate and sending him tumbling over the edge.

Gabriel stood, wiping his mouth.  “Sweet,” he commented, “must be all the pie.”  Gabriel was smirking at Dean, who barely understood the trickster’s words.

Gabriel went back to work on Dean, working him over time and time again and pulling more and more orgasms from the man.  Dean’s body was betraying him over and over again, teetering back and forth on the fine line between pleasure and pain.  By the time the twelfth orgasm was over, the hunter’s face was streaked with tears and he was mostly incoherent.  

“I asked you to count,” Gabriel reminded the bound man.  “How many was that, Dean?”

Dean’s head was lolling backwards and he was beyond intelligible thought or conversation but he still managed to groan out one word, “Twelve.”

“Beautiful,” the archangel murmured for the second time that night.  Gabriel snapped his fingers, releasing Dean from the chair that had held him throughout the night.  His hand ran through Dean’s hair and tugged on the short locks, dragging the hunter to his feet and over to a bed that had materialized not too far away.  

Dean was unsteady on his legs but Gabriel stabilized him before throwing him down onto the soft mattress and climbed on the bed behind him.  Gabriel pulled Dean’s legs up and pressed them into the hunter’s chest as he slowly pushed his own erection into Dean’s body, hissing at the pleasure he had denied himself for so long.  Gabriel knew he wouldn’t last long and as soon as he was settled deep inside of Dean, he brought a hand to the hunter’s cock and began stroking him in time with his thrusts.  

The angel used a little grace to spur Dean on and soon enough the hunter was cumming for the thirteenth time that night.  Gabriel’s grace extended the orgasm and made it so Dean enjoyed this last one.

With Dean’s muscles gripping his cock, Gabriel tipped over the edge, spilling his release into Dean’s body before collapsing beside the exhausted man.  “You were so good for me, Dean,” Gabriel told the hunter, “so good.”

Dean cuddled into Gabriel’s side.  “Thank you,” he whispered into the smaller man’s chest.

“No, thank you.  This has been the most fun I’ve had in a long while, which is saying something considering my job,” Gabriel quietly laughed, caressing Dean’s face and using his grace to return the human’s pants and underwear.  “But... what happened doesn’t change anything.  At least, not in a way you can know.  You won’t remember our encounter, Dean, but I swear to you that when you and Sam are most in need, I will be there.  Though, if we meet before that night, something tells me you won’t be too pleased to see me,” Gabriel told the hunter before touching two fingers to his forehead, stealing his memories of the night and transporting him back to where Jo was waiting with the Impala.

---

“Did it work?” Jo asked as soon as Dean was aware of his surroundings.

Dean pushed himself off of the ground, where he had unceremoniously landed on his ass, and dusted himself off.  He grabbed the towel Jo had offered and wiped the oil from his body, unsure of why he felt so sore.  “No,” he spat, “the fucker wouldn’t even see me.”  Dean was livid.  “Sam caught a case in Ohio; a weird death or something.  Once we deal with that, I’m gonna track the trickster down.  Apocalypse or not, I think it’s time to take out this asshole once and for all.”

Impalasutra Tags: @hexparker @purgatoan

All Pairings from the Pond: @deals-with-demons

All Shipping Fics from @mrswhozeewhatsis: @mrswhozeewhatsis @vintagevalentinexx @sis-tafics @meganwinchester1999 @chrisatplay @mamaimpala @skybinx-blog @purgatoan @sassysupernaturalsweetheart

Apparently no one has a Debriel list!  Luckily some people want to read ALL THE SHIPS!!

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge - Week 20

LAST WEEEEK wuhooo it has been a crazy ride - thanks to all who has written anything for this challenge over the summer. You guys rock.

This week’s duedate is Wednesday Oct 11th - 8pm CET/2pm EST.

Let’s recap the rules shall we?

- Everyone can join in!

- You can write as much or as little as you want.

- All actors, characters, ships, types of readers, ocs are allowed. As long as it ties to SPN we are good.

- AUs are welcome also

- Two prompts are given each week. You can use both or just one or you can write a fic for each. You can skip any weeks you’d like as well. All optional.

- Mention the challenge in the A/N and use the hashtags #SPN HIATUS WRITING CHALLENGE 2017 AND # SPN HWC - WEEK 20 within the first five tags

- You can tag me but I will not promise I will read nor reblog all of them.

If you want on the Weekly Masterpost you have to post by 8pm CET/ 2pm EST Wednesday the 11th of October and add your fic to this doc, where it fits!

Any Questions feel free to send me an ask.

PROMPT 1 (Dialouge prompt):

”This is so not the time or place for this.“

PROMPT 2  (Gif - YEP THAT’S AN SPN GIF THIS TIME!):

Link to entry doc (just in case):

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FPp-pMlbALMQLIVNafbTsNR5lJVpTjOlONK97HIjt9E/edit?usp=sharing

Challenge taglist closed cause tumblr already breaks my links! A link to each weeks prompts can be found on my SPN HIATUS CHALLENGE PAGE

[winchesterprincessbride]

Sam To The Rescue

This fic was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge Week 12, and the prompt is: ”Don’t make it into a big deal.” - “I’ll never unsee that.”

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader

I was too stubborn for my own good, and Dean always said one of these days my pig-headedness could come back to bite me in the ass.  Dammit, I hated it when he was right!

This hunt was a simple salt-and-burn, but the spirit of the victim’s dead wife was pissed, and she wasn’t going down without a fight.  She tossed us around the graveyard like rag dolls, and when she threw me into a granite headstone, pain tore through my ankle.

I barely managed to get to my feet when she disappeared in a roar of flame and heat.  Dean had fried the bitch just in the nick of time.  “You okay?” Dean asked as he wiped the dirt from his hands.

I never wanted Sam and Dean to treat me any differently because I was a woman, so I never let on that I wasn’t 100% ready for a fight.  I would do my share, and I wanted to make sure they knew it.  Especially Sam.  

I buried the pain that was screaming to the surface, and grinned at Dean. “Never better.  Now can we get the hell out of here?”

Dean showered first and tried to convince us to go to the bar with him. I was in so much pain at that point I just wanted to curl up and die so I begged off saying I was tired.  Sam said he had some research he wanted to do, so with a muttered “whatever” Dean was out the door in search of the night’s entertainment.  

Sam was engrossed in his laptop so when I asked him if he minded if I showered next he just grunted in response. I tried really hard not to limp but I could hardly put any weight on my ankle. I dug around in my bag for my emergency Codeine and popped one when Sam wasn’t looking.

This place was a dump, and that was saying something.  The lock was broken on the bathroom door, the mirror was cracked, and the “hot” water was barely tepid.  I stood under the spray, waiting for the pain med to kick in as I wobbled on my bad ankle. 

The tub bottom was worn smooth from years of people standing in it and it was very slippery.  When my bottle of shower gel slipped out of my soapy hands and fell at my feet, I couldn’t maneuver my injured foot out of the way, and I felt myself begin to slip.  I flailed wildly trying to stop my fall, but I only succeeded in tearing the shower curtain from the hooks and dropping it to the floor. I fell hard, my injured foot hitting the side of the tub and I screamed in pain. “Sam, help!”

I heard the door slam into the wall a second later.  “Y/N, I heard you scream. What’s wrong? Fuck!” He said when he realized I was still in the shower.

“Can you turn your head please?” I asked despite my pain.

He obliged before asking, “What happened?”

“I hurt my ankle on the hunt.  It gave out and I fell.  I can’t get up.  I need you to help me.”  I was completely mortified. I had been crushing on Sam for as long as I could remember, and he always treated me like his kid sister.  Now he had just seen me buck naked.

“I knew it! I told Dean you were hurt! Can I please look so I can help you? This is stupid.”

“Don’t make it into a big deal.  And please don’t tell Dean I’m hurt. Can you look without.....you know....looking?” I whined.

“What the hell does that even mean, Y/N? I’ll never unsee that.  It’s seared into my brain.”  He walked over to the towel rack, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around me, lifting me up in his arms as though I weighed nothing. I couldn’t stand, so Sam had to help me dress, much to my mortification. I tried to remain nonchalant as he touched me, but I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

I couldn’t even look at him, I was so embarrassed.  “I don’t think it’s broken, I think it’s just a bad sprain,” he said after carefully examining my ankle and wrapping it in an ace bandage.  “Maybe you should go get an x-ray?”

“No!  Then Dean will give me crap for not telling him I got hurt.  Please, Sam! I will be fine in a few days.”

“Fine.” He finally agreed, “But I don’t get why you're being so stubborn.”

Dean never suspected a thing.  Things were weird between Sam and me after that.  I was still embarrassed that he had seen me naked, and every time I closed my eyes I dreamed of his hands on me.  He started acting really strange around me after that, and things became so awkward, even Dean noticed.

“What the hell is going on with you two?” he asked me one day.  “Did you have a fight?”

When I couldn’t take it anymore. I decided to confront Sam.  “Are we ever going to be able to move past this?” I asked him.

“I don’t think so.” he told me, and my eyes widened in surprise.

“So what should we do then?” I asked, looking him in the eyes for the first time in weeks.

“How about this?” he said, pulling me to him and swallowing my gasp of surprise with his lips.   

tagging:

@skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it@fangirl1802 @pinknerdpanda  @atc74@jayankles  @notnaturalanahi@midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals@winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog@essie1876@bohowitch@just-another-busy-fangirl@jotink78 @captainradicalpassion@keelzy2 @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis@oriona75 @frankiea1998 @akshi8278@stylinson531@valynsia @dr-dean@theoutlinez  @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek    @luciisthebest  @laurenisnot @maddieburcham1  @canadianjelly@muliermalefici @brewsthespirit-blog @ilsawasanacrobat  @nanie5

[notnaturalanahi]

Perfect plan

Characters/Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean

Word count: 450-ish

Warnings: implied smut

A/N: This is my contribution for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Hiatus Writing Challenge - Week 19

Prompt: “it’s just you and me tonight. We can do whatever we want.”

Also @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname submitted this one gif a few weeks back and I just came up with something for it…

Perfect plan

Bosom rising and falling rapidly, you struggle to control your breathing after a more than close call. Under the table your foot jumps up and down as you cross your legs hard against one another, applying pressure to your soaked quivering pussy. Sam clears his throat and rubs his head, the sound of Dean’s boots coming down the corridor caused him to jump up and hit his head, a pen on his hand is the perfect excuse as he sits back in his place, to your left at the head of one of the library’s tables. Coughing he wipes his mouth after you discretely signal him to do so. Dean’s gaze goes from you to his brother, narrow eyes suspiciously reading the situation. He keeps walking towards the small table where you keep the liquor, pours himself some whiskey and sips at it giving you his back. Sam clocks his brother and trusting Dean won’t turn around just yet, He licks his lips seductively before nodding up to your legs. You swallow looking at Dean as you allow your legs to open slowly. Sam sticks his tongue out flicking it up and down quickly, resembling his previous movements. You squirm in your seat, feeling the way your slick runs down in between your cheeks and you suck on teeth, the end of the pencil you’re still holding goes to your mouth, tongue lapping at the rubber end. “Okay!” Dean loud voice makes you jump and close your legs once more, you pull the once designed to be a school supply item outta your mouth. “I don’t even wanna know what’s going on here. But I assure you guys I smelled it even before I stepped a foot into this room.” You gaps in surprise, tugging the hem of your skirt lower to cover more of you. “Anyways, I’m out. probably won’t be home tonight!” Dean leaves the glass down on the table, grabs Baby’s keys. “Just please, sterilize every surface Sam’s hairy butt may touch!” And then he’s running up the stairs before either you or Sam can say anything to defend yourselves. When your brain starts working properly again and you realize what just happened Sam’s already stalked close to you, pulling your chair out and staring down until the power of his eyes on you cause your legs to fall open once more. “Apparently it’s just you and me tonight. We can do whatever we want.” Sam breathes heavily watching you lift your skirt, revealing exactly what want to start doing.

“Hmm…” you contemplate your options, taking his hands and bringing him down to your level. “Cuddling and giving each other head feels like the perfect plan for me. But not precisely in that order…”

Everything: @nadiandreu7 @winchesters-princess @purgatoan @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @thegreatficmaster @death2thevirgin @mogaruke @isis278 @marygracewinchester @lbug1025  @authoressskr @fangirl1802 @ria132love @policeofficerdean @donnaintx @feelmyroarrrr @just-another-busy-fangirl @love-kittykat21 @tanithlowisabamf @emilyymichelle @goldenangelbloodcastiel @likesiriusly @petrovadixon @bulletscrossbowpie @imagining-supernatural @kdfrqqg @bradygabrielle-blog @charliebradbury1104 @hanny-writes-spn @thedevilinthedetails @docharleythegeekqueen @artprincessbree @mrswhozeewhatsis @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @sandlee44 @the-sassy-one @wicked-gen @queen-of-deans-booty @sam-in-a-flannel @raylin19 @sammys-lost-shoe @bribrixd5 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @nanie5 @roxyspearing @jessicawritessmut

Sam/Jared: @kinkybabytwinkle @chennyetomlinsoon @samwinjarpad