#The fitness pack - Sam (3)

[holylulusworld]

The fitness pack - Sam (3)

Summary: They are up to more than just helping you improve. 

Pairing: Trainer!Sam Wilson x Plus-Sized!Reader

Warnings: angst, chubby reader, language, flirty Sam, fluff, a hint of fingering, implied lovemaking, light/implied smut, making out, sweet pet names

A/N: This turned out sweeter than I outlined it. It’s less smut and more fluff, sorry, it just felt right to make this one the sweetest part.

Part 3/3

The Fitness Pack masterlist 

<< Part 2

Divider @firefly-graphics​

Four weeks after your first date with Sam, …

“Can I look now?” you giggle as Sam told you to close your eyes. He’s guiding you toward his apartment door, laughing as you are giddy like a child. “I love surprises, you know.”

“I know, sugar,” his hands squeeze your shoulders before he moves them up and down your arms to calm you. “I hope I didn’t overdo it. Sometimes I’m a little bit too enthusiastic. You must stop me, baby.”

“What are you talking about?” you question. “Sam?”

“Just wait and see,” he pecks your cheek. “Stay here and give me a minute. I’ll call for you when I’m done.”

You try to play it cool while your heart flutters.

It’s been four weeks since your first date. Four weeks filled with soft kisses, teasing, and light making out.

Sam tried anything to make you feel safe and comfortable around him. He succeeded. You are falling for Sam. Hard.

Tonight is the night. You want to jump the chance and give yourself to Sam completely. He’s a gentleman, and you know he’s holding back. All the lingering touches and soft kisses on your neck gave him away, though.

Sam is also a passionate man, and you want to get to know his body too. 

“All done,” you whip your head toward Sam standing in the doorway. He grins as you got lost in thoughts once again. “Come in, Y/N. I got the whole night planned.”

“What's your plan, Mr. Wilson,” he smirks when you pass him by. You stop in your tracks and turn back around to peck his lips. “I hope you know; I love French toast for breakfast…”

“I—uh,” Sam swallows thickly at your comment. He tried to be a gentleman and you just implied that you want to stay the night. “I cooked, and ...”

“Oh my god, Sam,” you sniffle as you step inside his living room. 

Smooth jazz is playing. There are red roses on the table. Rose petals lie on the carpet, leading toward the dining table. You can smell freshly cooked food and scented candles. 

You’re speechless, to say the least. No man before Sam put so much effort into making a date special. 

“What do you say?” he closes the door. “Do you like it?” Sam sighs. “It is too much. I knew it. I’m sorry.”

“Sam, it’s beautiful,” you jump at him to crash your lips onto his. “I love it. So much.” You kiss him again, hard, and passionately. 

“Phew…thank fuck,” he laughs against your lips. “I made lasagna, Italian salad with olives and for dessert…that’s a surprise.”

“I love surprises, Sam,” you wrap one arm around his shoulders to bring him down for another kiss. “How about I surprise you before we eat.”

“O-kay,” he stammers as you use your other hand to guide his hand between your legs. He gasps as you urge him on to cup your mound. “Y/N…sugar.”

“I’m not wearing panties Sammy,” you purr when he dips two fingers into your wetness. “I��ve been thinking about you and your perfect cock all day. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Y/N, baby. I-“ he seems to be speechless. It wasn’t in your plans to be so…forward. But you don’t want to waste another moment. “We should eat…or do you want to…”

“How about we work up an appetite?” 

“Fuck, I wanted to act like a gentleman, but now I’m going to devour you,” you squeak as Sam easily hoists you up to carry you toward the dining table. “Food is still in the kitchen. We can eat it in bed…later.”

He places you on the table, making you giggle as he roughly spreads your legs with his big hands to step between them. “I want you, Sam. Please.”

Sam is on you in a blink. He moves his hands behind your back to unzip your dress. “I wanted to take my time and make sweet love to you.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you wrap your legs around his waistline. “Please. I want you to take what you want, and give me what I need.”

“Sugar.”

He watches you shove the dress down your shoulders to reveal your chest to him. “I need to know that you like what you see, Sam.”

He makes an odd noise when you take off your bra. You seductively drop it to the ground, coyly looking at Sam. “I fucking love what I see.”

Sam cups your face to greedily claim your lips again. He kisses you until you’re out of breath, and press your hands against his firm chest.

“Fuck. I love what I see too, Sam,” you slip your tongue inside his mouth, making him moan as you nip at his lower lip. “I want to see even more of you.”

“You’ll see all of me, baby,” his arms wrap around your body to hoist you up again. “But I won’t fuck you on the table. I’ll bring you to my bedroom and do this right.”

You whine.

He chuckles.

“I want you.”

“You have me, Y/N.”

Sam carries you toward the bedroom, making promises he intends to keep on his way. “I’ll fuck you so good, baby. No one will ever get the chance to put their hands on you ever again.”

You tug at his shirt, eagerly slipping your hand inside as he tries to get you inside his bedroom.

“Baby, I want you,” you purr, hoping it sounds as sexy as you think it does. “Please give me your big cock. I want to feel you split me open.”

“Jesus, you are making it hard for me to not ruin your sweet pussy,” he stumbles inside the bedroom, almost falling on top of you when he places you on the bed. “Baby…”

“Get up here,” you tease while Sam tries to take off his clothes and shoes in a hurry. His shirt ends on the lamp, his socks fly toward the window, and his pants, well they join his shoes on the floor. “Shit…you look like a Greek God or something.”

You bite your index finger as Sam stalks toward the bed. He opens the drawer of his nightstand to get a condom out, smirking as you shy away a little. 

“I’ll be your Greek god, sugar. Only yours.”

Sam will take his time to explore every inch of your flesh with his hands, lips, and, even his teeth before he sinks into you.

You will claw at his back and breathe against his lips. His name, the only thing on your mind, and your lips. 

That night, he becomes yours, and you’ll become his. You won’t remember your exes' name from that night on, nor the nagging voices in your mind. Voices from the past telling you no man will ever love you the way you deserve.

Sam changes everything.

This is Sam’s ending.  

Tags in reblog.

[elizzsush]

Fae Courting Rituals | TWST

Diasomnia Dorm X Reader

Lilia X Reader, Sebek X Reader, Malleus X Reader, Silver X Reader

---- Fae are typically taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 3/3)

Note: Was going To add silver to this list. (I know he isn't a fae, but he was raised by one) but was too tired to write for him)

Savanaclaw Ver. | Octavinelle Ver

Sebek:

He starts following you around for some reason.

Seriously, one day he just woke up and decided to not leave you alone. It helped that you guys shared a bundle of classes together.

You had no clue how you befriended the green hair boy. You weren't complaining though, in this school, where everyone is so set in their ways, you liked having the extra layer of protection that was the loud half fae: Sebek.

He was loud and denies it however, whenever you point out he follows you. He claims to not having even realized he was doing such a thing. "I would never follow around a mere human!" He shouted out his claims with a red face.

It could be true. He did get somewhat spacy sometimes if you'd believe it.

He had a packed schedule, or so he claimed, yet he always found time to be around you. It made a warm feeling blossom in your chest, well, of course before he used this time to rant about Malleus. "Wakasama is the most kind and fit ruler of-" He'd ramble, you'd sigh; put your face in your hand and lean a bit closer to him. You enjoyed hearing him so passionate, even if it was... constant.

He didn't have an off switch, that didn't have to be a bad thing.

Plush, you didn't hate his voice. Not that you'd be as loud about your likes as he was for his.

Though you were pretty positive your friends... and most of the students at NRC were in fact sick of his voice. People have also noticed he is more vocal around you.

Which is… a good thing?

The oddest thing happened once. At one point when the two of you were relaxing in ramshackle. A bag of popcorn and a shitty TV you got on sale at Sam's shop. He wasn't being loud for once in his life, instead his attention was focused on the screen.

You two were sitting pretty close together when, he had grabbed your hand and laid his head on yours. Was he... cuddling you?

You couldn't help but smile and continue to watch the movie. You didn't want to comment on it, you knew if you did, he'd probably get up, make a huge deal out of it (with a red face), and leave.

He started rubbing his forehead against yours before he finally pulled away like it never happened. It was oddly affectionate.

You didn't even think he knew that he was doing it.

He began to do these affectionate things while he was focused on something else. Either it be a show at the movie nights you organized with him, or if he was studying a bit to hard with you.

Your friends wondered how you even managed a movie night with the loud boy but you just shrugged.

Eventually, you had to face it: You really like Sebek.

You really liked this brash boy with a thick skull.

You knew however, even if he did like you back. He'd never admit it, let alone go out with you.

It left you with this odd feeling. A dull pain that ranged from a small ache to feeling like Throns were wrapping around your heart, piercing the organ in your chest.

You tried not to let that get you too down. Instead, you watched him across the lunchroom as subconsciously he blew bubbles into his drink, his green eyes finding yours...

So yes, you'd listen to his rants. You'd go out of your way to hang out with him, you'd enjoy his company while you could.

Because you knew, sooner or later, he'd realize it too. The same reality you had to face. And...

well...

He wouldn't face it.

He'd probably turn you away and never speak to you again. And you'd be fine with that. Even if you didn't want to be because you...

Well, let's save that for another day.. "Hey Sebek, lets hang out!"

"I suppose I can make time for you, Human!"

Lilia:

He was out to get you.

You noticed it. Almost everybody noticed it. You just didn't know what you did to him! He'd pop up everywhere and scare you! Right before disappearing away.

This counted as bullying, right?

You were starting to get... slightly paranoid.

You enjoyed Lilia's company, you really did. But you were tired of constantly looking over your shoulder. So, you started to avoid him, just a bit.

Your own personal revenge for the paranoia.

Now, Lilia has lived a long life. He knows what he's doing and is just having fun. He liked you, he did, but he probably isn't going to be that serious about this. He's in it for the vibes.

So when he see's you avoiding him... he well... He serenades you from outside ramshackle.

He makes his intentions very clear with a love song!

A boombox in Sebek's hand, and a tired Silver who followed along because... well Lilia was making Sebek hold a bomb box and traveling in your direction.

Lilia song his heart out for you. "Everybody loves somebody sometime!~ And although my dream was-"

"It is 2am!! The perfect will go out with you tomorrow!" Grim shouted out the window with a grogy done with it tone. After you threw a pillow at them.

NOTE: Sorry this one is short but I have a hard time writing for Lilia

Malleus:

What do you mean? You started courting him first. Very brave of you indeed child of man. He had even commented on it while you handed a piece of treasure!

That was... well, it was a cheap polished rock. It was well... shiny...?

It started very small. He accepted your gift and was expecting a bit more to be honest. Not even he was exactly sure how this courting would work out; he was prepared to be the one to pursue you!

Initially, he sat back and relaxed. Enjoyed the small sense of harmony you two already had and assumed you guys were dating.

Why would he not? He accepted your courting gift, he assumed their were more to come, the next step up to this would be marriage and he wasn’t sure you were ready for that.

However, you noticed this. You were so confused. He’d began to call you “beloved.” Which was a 180.

When did you two…? Huh??

He’s also been more clingy. Not on the sense he’d follow you around but in the sense of a mountain of handwritten letters and the actual sense that he’s in your personal space when you two do hang out.

So… the two of you are just dating now? “Beloved, you haven’t been responding to my letters. Did I do something?”

“Oh, sorry I just haven’t… quite finished all of them.” You glanced at a room that was empty at one time. Now it held a pile of letters.

This was an exaggeration, they’re were a lot but not a whole room full… yet.

Extra??? Silver:

It started like most seedlings of love, with a dream. A simple one, you were sat beside him, the two of you quiet and happy in each others company. The birds sang as you hummed beside him. The boy was content, more so then he had been in his life.

Then, like it was second nature to both of you. You two shared a kiss, and then he woke up.

Usually, he tried not to lose himself to sleep. But tonight all he wanted was to go back to the dream world and hold you. As soon as the realization crossed his mind however, he woke up even more. Had he ever been this awake? “Am I in love…?”

He, not knowing what to do. Went to Lilia, whom was enthusiastic with this news.

You know when parents find out their four year old has a crush? That’s Lilia, except Silver isn’t four. Every time they see you Lilia shoos Silver off too hang out with you. Sadly, with no prior love life to speak of, silver goes along with it.

Though he is embarrassed about it, he hides it well enough.

“Does Lilia think you like me?” You asked all to happily once, hiding your own happiness behind a giggle at the absurd situation he found himself in.

“Uh, yeah…” he’d just smile at you, his head laying on the lunch table as he was about to go to sleep. he loved to see you laugh even if it was somewhat at his expense. However, Sleep tends to escape him when he was near you. Not that he didn’t feel tired, but he didn’t feel as tired. He couldn’t feel angry about it, in fact he was happy about this. It was like you were some temporary cures for his illness.

Lilia would also insist that Silver gift you things. To show he can provide for you, the Silver hair male couldn’t disagree. So, he’d find things that might fancy you.

His bird and squirrel friends also helped him in his venture to gain your affection. Often leaving flowers at your doorstep and small shiny things.

One day you saw the birds and Squirrels run up to your doorstep, one flower at a time, make a gorgeous bouquet.

You made sure to thank him and his animal friends after that.

In return you'd try and make things for him, find things around he or the animals would like. Nuts for squirrels, seeds for the birds, and a deep red rose you plucked from Heartslabyul during the end of an unbirthday party.

He stayed awake for longer than he ever had that night, staring up at the rose in the dark while his dormmate slept. A smile on his lips as he examined every detail of it.

Ace would call it cheesy. The relationship between the two of you was something out of a romance movie he'd say in a more teasing way. Something like, "Is it Tuesday or Wednesday he's going to chase after you to an airport?" and then roll his eyes. You tell Ace to shut up while looking away with a face as red as riddle's hair.

It was after a test, you pulled your test paper out of your bag ready to check your score after preparing for disappointment when a blue bird swopped down and took it!

You cursed and chased after the bird, rushing past students and looking crazy, eventually you ended up in the forest next to the school.

You were sure you looked ever crazier than you had been running in the school halls, because now you had leaves in your hair, and your shoes were all muddy now...

Eventually, the birds placed the test paper, face down on a certain boy's chest. "Silver... Are you asleep?" You smiled and knelt beside him, a small smile on your face. Rolling your eyes at the perpetually sleeping boy. You sat beside him for a moment taking a deep breath before you grabbed your test.

You almost preferred it this way, to have him here, even if he wasn't fully here. It helped your nerves somewhat. An even bigger smile graced your face as you turned the paper, and a large B was printed at the top.

Standing up, you gifted your friend a small kiss on his forehead and wandered off back to school.

Well, you were stopped by a small, sleepy voice. "Y/N...?"

___________________________

Note: It was this or clean my depression room... Anyway, I want to expand on Sebek's small scenario because I know if it was its own imagine I could make it really good.

Would ya'll enjoy that...?

ANYWAY, these small series is competed! (Unless...?) Thank you for reading them and thanks for reading the note. Not a lot of people do that. Myself included.

I have a hard time writing for Diasomnia...

[rey-129-fan]

Well, it's been a while since I've posted any fanfic... Let's change that.

Good news! I'm not dead! My brain did try to get me to do things that could unalive myself for a bit, and then I lost nearly an entire side of my family over the span of 3 years, but I'm still here and still kicking! And I have two new puppies who are adorable and so loving.

Now for this story, this is inspired by a few posts I saw on @theglamorousferal, mostly the one about Amity Parkers going to college in Gotham and buying a hotel (I'm making it a co-op student house, but I've never lived in one, so if something's unacceptably wrong, tell me, if not, artistic license), but also the one where our main Trio buy a building to set up shop there, and wind up adopted my Jason (I swear, I saw that post after I wrote the first chapter, but it just fit so well).

***

Honestly, Amity Park was weird long before the Fentons moved there- the original settlers named the nearby lake Eerie, and it wasn’t after the Great Lake.  It’s just that before the Fentons’ machine punched a hole through reality and created a permanent doorway to the land of spirits and ghosts, the weirdness was not as blatant.

Prior to that, Amity Parkers were some of the few that could move to Gotham without suffering a breakdown that was common for new arrivals.  Now there was a slight dip in newcomers for about a decade or two after the Bat made his debut and then the crazies that followed him, but then Amity Parkers got used to the spirits of the dead wandering around following the aforementioned punching through reality.

All this to say that Gotham Universities were a rather common destination for young Amity Park adults seeking higher education.

Now because of this, there were always apartments advertising themselves for people from the small town.  They, after all, tended to not have a breakdown after their fifth rogue attack and just pack up and leave halfway through their lease.  But it got very annoying having to sift through all the advertisements when looking for a place to stay- something Danny Fenton saw his older sister go through when she got in to Gotham City University.  The boy then shared what he was witnessing with his two best friends- Tucker Foley and Sam Manson.  Tucker offered to help filter out the spam, which Danny’s sister Jazz thanked him for but turned down.  Sam… Sam instead got thinking.

Sam had been to Gotham a few times in her life.  She had an idea of the areas closest to the schools and how much those should cost.  And looking at the letters Jazz was getting, the offers were a little too high for a regular college student to afford.  Sam was also familiar with how many hotels were not being used in Gotham- people building them in hopes tourists would come to stay while visiting the East Coast, tourists that could not be convinced to visit due to the high crime rate and the lack of activities or places of interest in the city itself.

She quickly went to work, looking in to these empty hotels.  She was rather upset by their numbers and put together a spreadsheet of them, with details like number of rooms, any amenities they may have, and nearby landmarks.  She then grabbed her two dorks and marched to Casper High’s Community Outreach director.

Now Sam’s presentation raised a few eyebrows, mostly because it was in a completely different state, but Sam shot back that because of the efforts to incorporate the town’s new ghostly residents and provide them with helpful ways to feed their obsessions- efforts led by the Fenton family- Amity Park had very few homeless, and those that were had a huge community safety net to help them get back on their feet.  Additionally, with how many people moved between the city and the town, helping the city could be argued to also be helping the town.

The Outreach Director just sighed and gave Same the green light to at least draft and send out a proposal to the powers that be in Gotham, saying that there wasn’t much that could be done before they got backing and approval.  Sam thanked them before leaving, Danny and Tucker trailing behind.

She was back the next day with a draft of her proposal and a list of who to send it to.

***

Since returning from the dead in the eyes of the public, Jason Todd was often contacted by groups trying to use the Wayne fortune to fund their own personal projects.  They thought Jason would be the easiest to con- sorry, persuade- since he was a former street kid unlike the rest of his family.  Thus surely he would know just how much this new building with low income housing would help the people of Gotham- it even came with a pool and gym!

Yeah, he did know how much the people of Gotham needed housing, but $2K a month was not affordable when you’re barely making $30K a year!  Oh and the pool and gym were only available for those who could shell out an additional $2K a month.  Jason knows, he read the whole document carefully.

God, sometimes it was hard to tell who was worse, the psychos in Blackgate or real estate investors.  And sadly, he couldn’t just pop a bullet in their heads and be done with it because 1) it would raise too many questions and 2) it would make Bruce get all sad and mopey- again.  Jason just did not have the mental energy to put up with that on top of the rest of his life as a crimelord/vigilante/long-lost adoptive second son of a billionaire.

All this to say, he was not impressed when he first glanced over a proposal to convert the unused hotels around the city into housing units- especially since it was from someone that did not live in Gotham.

Manson?  Wasn’t there a family with that name that would attend some of Brucie’s galas?  Oh yeah, their family made its fortune off patenting the machine that wrapped toothpicks in plastic, as well as a couple others.  And they had a daughter around Repla- Tim’s age.  Hopefully this wasn’t her trying to be a kiss-ass like her parents.

Jason finished reading and sat back.  The proposal wasn’t too bad.  Converting hotels into apartment buildings would be easier than office buildings, and the suggestion to use ex-convicts that wanted to turn over a new leaf as building managers certainly wasn’t the worst.  Also creating a fund for those that couldn’t afford rent, as well as community kitchens and gardens were certain plusses, though would need to have the right people in charge to make sure they actually worked as planned, and to keep the Court of Owls from messing with it.

Overall, it was something Jason would consider, after some research and maybe talking with the rest of the Bats and Birds.  And if this was from the Manson kid, maybe get Dickie or one of the others to talk to her next time there was a gala in town.  Or talk to her himself, if the Pit wasn’t too loud.

…Dick was probably the better option to talk with her if it came down to it.

***

There's the first chapter. I'm going to go write the next one. When I have a good log of them, I'll then go and edit them and put them on AO3.

This has no title yet because I suck at naming. Feel free to comment with suggestions for a name, both for the fic/au and for the eventual hotel/co op. As well as any shinanegans and majors/colleges/universities for our liminal young adults.

Part 1/? Next >

[sambeawesome]

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[aggro-my-beloved]

Oh, My Darlin' Sam Collins x Reader Imagine

note: this was meant to be posted a lot sooner, but i struggled to be satisfied with the finished product. I've re-written this 3 different times and still am unsure about it so please let me know if you liked it by reblogging or interacting with me!

pairing: samuel collins x gn!reader

summary: post-quinn, tank has been trying to rebuild their social life and relationships with pack members. little do they know, their is one relationship david has been withholding them from kindling. when they make a surprise visit to solstice bar, however, the alpha's hands become tied...and the attractive bartender with the nice accent catches this wolf's attention — part of the pick your poison series!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, midwest emo band things, and protective alpha davey (he and tank are twins!)

wc: 1.8k

estimated reading time: 8.75 mins

“Sorry, I can’t let you in. We’re full.” David’s palm was inches away from Tank’s face. They suffered a momentary flashback of when they were kids and he would do the very same thing at their attempts to go on a rollercoaster they did not exceed the height requirement for, or trying to sneak into the theater for an R-rated film after buying tickets to a Disney feature. 

“Seriously?” They quirked a brow, going as far as to crane their neck and view the barren parking lot. If not for her vehicle tagging alongside David’s, Milo’s, and one she hadn’t recognized upon her arrival, a tumbleweed blowing past would be fitting for the sight. “It’s 8 o'clock on a Tuesday.” 

“Still busy. Asher’s here trying to kiss up to the staff to let him and Christian’s band play. Private meeting.” He scowls. While Tank enjoyed the live demos played before them, they understood it was not David’s favorite type of music. He doesn’t even label it as that. 

“I’m sorry, but wasn’t it you who said I should stop secluding myself from others?” Their slow-building anger urges some prominent veins to adorn their neck. David’s eyes try not to linger on the piercing bite marks credited to Quinn, the sight of them still makes his insides wrinkle with guilt. 

“I’m here to support the pack’s business. Here, maybe…” they pause for a moment to rifle through the knapsack hanging from their shoulder, “this will change your mind.” David rolls his eyes at their license photo staring back at him. Tank was arguably the worst pick for posing in pictures. If their eyes weren’t closed in the shot, the morsel of food jammed between their teeth was the focal point. 

David merely glances at it and deadpans. “It’s fraudulent.” 

Tank replies, “It’s not.” 

“You’re underage.” He tries.

“We’re twins!” They scoff. “The fact that you’re older by a minute says nothing about my naivety, Davey.” The tips of the bouncer's ears scorching something rosy makes Tank hum in delight. 

“I’ll…I’ll eat it.” 

“David, why are you so set on keeping me from your hard work?” Their brows are furrowed, and much like the siblings' stubborn attitudes, remain unmoving.

The truth is, David would love nothing more than to share his second home with Tank. He and Milo built this place from the ground up and cranked it into a full-fledged business with some help from old connections of Gabe. The only thing stopping him from letting Tank in was…

“Sammy I promise you—“

“Call me that again and the deal is off.” The vampire’s rasp shoots out like venom, coating the room in a tense air. 

“Alrighty, Mr. Collins,” Sam is nonetheless impressed with the alternate name—he releases an exhausted sigh to show it. Nevertheless, he allows Asher to plead his case. The younger of the two momentarily struggles to pull out the compact disc, and finally hands it to the bartender when he does.  “Just give it a couple of spins through this week and see what your customers think. It’ll grow on you, I promise.” 

“What in the hell is this drawing?” Sam brings the CD to his eyes to squint at the black squiggles across it. 

“What drawing? That’s our band’s name!” Asher clarifies with a small laugh. For being known to have sharp senses, this drummer could have him fooled. 

“And that would be…?”

“Howl’s Highway.” Asher flashes him a boasting smile. Sam only lets out an unimpressed grunt. 

“Subtle name. Definitely won’t come back to bite you in the ass.” 

“Sheesh, no wonder you and David get along so well.” Asher still has his roommate’s ten-minute-long speech echoing in his mind about how such an epic name was one step closer to a covert breach. 

“What’s your intermission consist of? Shifting mid-set and running out all our returning customers?” 

“Pfft, no..” Asher rolls his eyes, before shifting them down to the notes app on his phone and pressing the backspace button several times. 

“Hey boys, hate to interrupt your top-secret meeting.” An unfamiliar face draws Sam away from the disc, and he’s enamored by their aura immediately. He can sense they’re a shifter, most likely a wolf by the way David looms behind them with crossed arms. 

“Hey, look who finally emerged from their cave!" Asher chuckles and untucks a free barstool beside him. "Pop a seat, let me introduce you to Sammy--ahem, forgive me--Mr. Collins. This is one of our pack members, Tank."

“There’s no need for that. They’re just here for a plate of fries to go. Milo!” David alerts the chef. He hears a distant clatter, followed by a string of swears, and can only assume his colleague is checking his hair in the stainless steel frying pan yet again.

“On it!” 

“I’d also like a drink for my trip over.” Tank raises a finger and seats themselves beside Asher on the open barstool.“Have you closed the deal yet?” 

“I don’t know. Sam, have I?” Two pairs of eyes turn in the vampire's direction, but he only finds himself lost in one. A glance is enough to entice him, and though he’d never admit it, he’d be trying to recreate the exact shade of Tank’s irises in his dreams tomorrow morning. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” He mutters, never breaking eye contact with the new acquaintance sitting at his bar. “What can I get for you to drink, darling?” They feel an unfamiliar scorch of their cheeks at the pet name but do nothing to object to it. This newfound sweltering in the pit of their stomach is something they’ve only felt once or twice, and they’d be damned to extinguish it. 

David, however, has different plans.

“It’s all good, Sam. I can make it. Go ahead and take your break.” David slinks behind the bar.

“But I just got here half an hour ago…” his southern drawl becomes even more present with the mild fear lacing his words. He becomes suddenly aware of how tense David’s stature is, and the clenched fists at his side. 

“Go take a break or I'll cut you early. Understood?” David snarls, and Sam takes a step back towards the swing door of the kitchen. A few seconds go by before he concedes.

“Yes, sir.” He retreats behind the kitchen door, both confused and frightened by David’s sudden change in attitude. As he’s wandering the kitchen to find any leftover appetizers from the lunch rush earlier in the day, his ears perk up at the hushed voices from outside. 

“What crawled up your ass?” He hears the Tank ask.

“Yeah, what did Sam do?” Asher jumps in.

“Nothing.” David insists. “What do you want?” Sam can practically hear the sneer in David’s voice, complemented by clinking glasses.

“Ooh, ooh, Bud Lite please!” 

“I wasn’t asking you, Ash,” a few seconds later, the noise of air decompressing and a bottle cap being flicked is heard.

“I want the nice bartender back. He seems less… aggravated.” Hot as fuck, is also another attribute Tank associates with him, but decides not to indulge. 

“Well the nice bartender just went on break, so it looks like you’re stuck with me.” 

“That’s okay, I can wait.” Sam snickers at their persistence. Milo turns his head to see what’s so funny. Sam waves him off and clears his throat. Perhaps the fryer is so loud, or the bar is so slow, Milo couldn’t care less to acknowledge the commotion outside of the kitchen. 

The wolf decides to break the silence when he brings the fryer baskets up from their grease bath and allows the fries to cool down. “Whatcha thinking for dinner? We’re fully stocked on everything from the truck this morning.” 

If he answered honestly and told Milo he’d lost his appetite, that he just wants answers as to why David has a sudden vendetta against him communicating with this pack member, that would only result in more questions. Instead, he eyes the shifter piling a styrofoam box with freshly cooked and seasoned fries and halts him short of his walk out the door. 

“Why don’t I send this out, if you make me a batch of those small hamburgers…the ones with the toothpicks in them?” Milo snorts, and genders:

“You mean sliders, Sam?” 

“Yes, those. I’ll be right back.” He spares him a thankful smile, and cracks open the kitchen door to concentrate back on the trio’s conversation. Sam isn’t sure whether he should feel disappointed that the focal point of their chat was back on Asher’s band. 

“Play track four—that’s my favorite!” The drummer suggests to David, who grumbles as he fiddles with the CD player stowed in one of the bar cabinets.

“What’s the name of the song?” Asks Tank.

“The Voices in the Basement Are Getting Loud Again and the Basement is My Brain.” 

“…oh.” 

“A side of fries to go,” Sam reintroduces himself by swiftly taking a seat beside the empowered person at the bar and offering them their still steaming box of food. 

“Oh,” their tone morphs to something of interest as they readjust their body to face Sam with a pleased smile. “Didn’t you hear?” Without breaking eye contact, they undo the tabs of the styrofoam box and flip the top open with ease. “I’m staying to eat now.”

“Ain’t that somethin’,” says Sam, who harbors a pleased grin. David clears his throat, now towering over the two with folded arms and an unimpressed glaze over his eyes. 

“It’s something alright.” 

“David, come help me with the trash!” Milo’s voice beckons the Alpha to stand down from the bar and retreat to the kitchen, much to his dismay. 

“Saved by the bell.” Sam jokes, before offering Tank a tilt of his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you seem like you can handle yourself in the face of trouble. Is he always this protective of his pack?” Tank’s fingers drum against the countertop as they ponder how to word their answer. 

“He’s just been wary about me hanging around vamps lately because of…some trouble I got into. Let’s put it this way, the other guy had it coming.” Tank tilts their chin up, unintentionally revealing a few of the remaining marks left by Quinn. Sam doesn’t need to study them hard to figure out the vamp was feeding out of spite, not biting for their equal pleasure. 

“I’m sure he did, messin’ with a member of one of Dahlia’s most reputable packs. Care to share this fella’s name so I can add him to my shit list?” He inquires.

“How about we share a drink first?” Tank smiles, before sliding the plate of fries closer to his direction. Eagerly, Sam plucks one from the platter and bites down on it, his fangs sparkling beneath the dim lights of the bar. 

“I know just the one.”

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 8 - Save Me

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3k

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7]

If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight. 

“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 

“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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[hearts-hunger]

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Kitkat Universe Masterlist

Summary: You and Danny go to the annual haunted woods paintball game.

Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genre: fluff | Word Count: 4k | Warnings: smoking

A/N: This is my fic for the GVF Fic Writers Halloween Event! Of course it's Danny and Kitkat <3 I used the prompt "starting a new Halloween tradition". I hope you like it! ♡

“I want to go too.”

Danny gave you an uncertain look, packing his vest into the duffle bag on your bed. You couldn't tell if it was surprise at your statement or reluctance to have you tag along, and felt a little uncertain yourself as you waited for his answer.

“Are you sure?” he asked. He tucked his curls behind his ear, and you were distracted by the movement for a moment. He was sure to wear a beanie, and you knew it would look cute, but you liked his hair best unbound and unhindered.

“I — I think so,” you said, and you realized it wasn't that convincing. “If I can still go. If you want me to.”

Danny and the boys were going to a staff party at the haunted house they worked for, a midnight glow-in-the-dark paintball extravaganza in the haunted woods on the property. He'd asked you a few days ago if you wanted to join and you'd declined, feeling like it might be a little much for you, but now that he was getting ready to go you suddenly didn't want to miss out on the fun.

“Of course you can still go,” he said easily, and you were glad to know he wasn't regretting extending the invitation. “I’d like it if you did. But it’s... well, it's meant to be kind of scary, kitkat.”

You stood up straighter. “I know. I think I can handle it. I want to try.”

He softened then, giving you an amused smile. 

“Okay, buddy,” he said, using his other silly little nickname for you. “Good on you for being brave. Let's give it a try.”

You glowed with excitement and pride. “Really?” You were no dummy; you knew you'd be a bit of a hindrance just because you weren't very good, not to mention your scaredy-cat tendencies to anything even mildly spooky. “I don't want to... be in the way. I've never played paintball before.”

“You won't be in the way,” he assured you kindly. “I want you there, and so do the guys. And there's gonna be people who've never played before. It'll be fun.”

“Okay,” you said brightly, choosing to believe him even if he was biased because he loved you. But then, you were a little crestfallen — “I don't have any equipment, though. I guess I should have thought of that.”

He waved you off. “I have an extra gun, and I'm sure one of the twins’ extra vests will fit you. We can probably rustle up a helmet from somebody. All you gotta do is dress warm and look cute.”

You smiled up at him. “I think I can handle that.”

He chuckled and kissed your nose. “I think so too. Go get dressed, kitkat. All black so you don't make yourself an easy target.”

He was already dressed head to toe in black, and he cut a fine figure in his dark jeans and thermal shirt. You rifled through your dresser and found a suitable outfit, and you watched him pack the last of his things in the mirror as you braided your hair.

“Ready?” you asked as he zipped up his duffel bag.

He cracked a grin. “Ready. Let's hit it.”

You blasted some rock n roll favorites from your Halloween playlist on the drive, “Runnin’ with the Devil” and “Bark at the Moon”, both of you belting out the tunes as the brisk wind whipped your hair and brought a flush to your cheeks. You decided that you weren't going to chicken out, no matter how intimidating a battle in the middle of the haunted woods sounded, and were hyped up and ready by the time you got there.

“Kitkat!” Josh tossed you a vest as you neared the bonfire where he and Sam were getting warm and outfitted. “Glad you decided to come. Jake went to find you a helmet.”

Danny helped you strap on the vest and showed you how to use the paintball gun, demonstrating where the trigger was, how to refill the hopper, and how to turn the safety off once the game started. He put a refill of paintballs in your vest and made sure everything was snug and comfortable.

“Good?” he asked.

You nodded. “Good.” Jake returned with a helmet for you, and you put it on and looked up at Danny through your mask.

“How do I look?” you asked.

He smirked. “Like a little assassin, kitkat.” He tapped a gloved finger against the brim of your mask. “You'll do great.”

A whistle blew from the woods, indicating that the game was about to start, and the five of you put strips of reflective orange tape on your vests to show what team you were on. The other team, you'd been told, had yellow tape, and you reminded yourself to only shoot at them. You were a little worried you'd get discombobulated and shoot one of your own team members, but you'd try your best.

Danny put on his helmet, and his skull-shaped black mask was spooky in the firelight. Though he'd been handsome to you earlier, outfitted and confident and big, he looked downright scary with the mask on.

You smiled a little. You had some experience with Danny looking intimidating behind a mask, and that had turned out alright. This probably would too.

You stuck close by his side as you tramped through the woods to your team's starting point, listening to the chatter of excited players and the nightly cacophony of the woods. Owls and crickets and breeze-swept branches made the woods come alive, and despite the effectively haunting atmosphere, you were excited to play and see how well you'd do. A nervous anticipation sent a cool tingling through your fingers, and you gripped the gun more tightly than Danny had showed you to.

“Um, Danny?” you asked when you stopped, looking up at his mask.

“Hm? You alright?”

You nodded. You wished you could see his face. 

“Can you... can you stay with me? For the first round, anyway?” You knew he probably wanted to run off and play Black Ops with his friends and not be slowed down sticking with you, but you'd get lost and freaked out in a second without him.

He leaned down to bonk his helmet gently against yours.

“Yes. Of course.”

You giggled. “Thanks.”

The ref on your side reastated the rules and boundaries, pointing out your team's home base that would serve as a resupply point, a medical tent should anyone need it, and the place you were supposed to go if you got out. There would be no mistaking who was hit and who wasn't; the paint was glow in the dark, and it would show in fluorescent green. Otherwise, you were on your own to play as long as you lasted. It was a game of capture the flag, so you were to be on the lookout for a glowing banner emblazoned with a witch's hat; your team's was branded with a ghost.

“Players ready?” the ref asked. “Three, two, one — ”

An air horn sounded, startling you, and every member of your team took off at a run to find cover and go after the flag. The loud popping of offensive fire filled the woods almost immediately, players already meeting each other out in the woods, and you suddenly became a lot less confident than you had been.

Danny hadn't run off with everyone else, patiently waiting for you, and you were so thankful for your very kind boyfriend when you knew he wanted to be out there in the thick of it. He held out his hand.

“You got this, kitkat. I'm right here with you.”

You put your hand in his and let him lead you at a jog through the woods he knew by heart. Most of the players did, since they worked here, but some stragglers seemed either as unsure as you were or just plain foolish, standing out in the open. You caught a glimpse of yellow tape, but before you could even raise your gun, Danny had dispatched the player and sent them back to their base groaning and cursing their bad luck.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hand again, his voice muffled through the mask. “I know a few likely places they could have put their flag. Let's go.”

You roused to the thrill of the game as you went quickly through the woods, dodging trees and roots and decorations of various shapes and sizes: vampire statues, headstones, giant looming skeletons. Leaves crunched under your feet, telltale even under the constant sound of gunfire, giving away people's positions left and right. Danny took the other team's players out with startling accuracy, and though you fired a few times, you only maged to hit trees or some set pieces.

Danny pulled you behind a huge rock, one that usually served as a jumping-off point, literally, for some ghoul or goblin to scare passers-by during operating hours. You caught your breath as he took a look around, careful to be quiet.

“Their flag's definitely over this way,” he said in a low voice when he rejoined you. “There’s too many people grouped up here for it not to be. We just gotta find out way around to it.” He tugged a little on the strap of your vest.

“Still good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, grinning behind your mask. “It’s kinda fun.”

He laughed. “I told you it would be. You stay here a minute. I'm gonna go scout out a little further ahead.”

You didn't exactly love him leaving you in the dark, noisy woods, but you didn't protest, happy to let him have a little solo macho time. You waited in your hiding spot for him to come back, listening to the excited laughter, the happy yelling, the calls back and forth of friends as they played. It soothed your nerves a little to hear that it was a game, really, and that all the fear and adrenaline was in good fun.

All of a sudden, somebody skidded around the corner of your rock, and you raised your gun and fired without thinking.

“Damn!” The other player gave a groan of pain at the impact, and though you were relived it wasn't Danny you'd shot, you noticed with chagrin that it was somebody wearing orange tape.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” you said sincerely. “I didn't see your tape. I'm really sorry.”

The other player huffed and sat next to you, leaning against the rock.

“Kitkat?” he asked. You recognized that distinctive Kiszka accent. “It’s Sam.”

You felt marginally better then, knowing Sam would forgive your shoot-first-ask-questions-later strategy. 

“Aw, Sam, I'm sorry I shot you. You scared me to death.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you scared me too. Good hit, though.” He looked around. “Where’s Danny?”

“He went to look for the flag,” you said. “He thinks it's around here somewhere.”

Sam nodded. “It is. Gonna be a hell of a time gettin’ to it though. Jake got hit, but Josh is still out there as far as I know.”

Danny came around the corner then, and both you and Sam raised your guns before you saw it was him. He held up his hands.

“Just me,” he panted. “Don’t shoot.”

“Well, she already shot me,” Sam groused good-naturedly. “Hey, you got hit.”

Danny’s hand hovered over the bright green paint on his chest. “Yeah, I know. It's wicked over there. That's definitely where they have the flag. Too bad we can't get it.”

“We could,” Sam said. “Respawn’s only ten minutes.”

“Really?” Danny asked, brightening. “Oh. I must have missed that. Let's get back to base, then.”

Though you weren't hit, you went with them back to base; you could still play, and you actually managed to shoot one of the opposing team members as you made your way back through the woods.

“Hey, good shot,” Danny praised. “We might make a paintball player out of you yet, kitkat.”

Glowing with pride and pleasure, you came into the warm circle of light at the home base and joined the players waiting to respawn. You took off your masks and caught your breath, Danny and Sam wiping the paint off their vests and letting the ref know they were staring their wait time.

Danny bummed a cigarette off of somebody and came to stand with you, Sam, and Jake, who was animatedly telling the story of how he'd been shot.

“I have, like, four minutes left,” he said. “Then I’m going right back where I was. There's only one guard over there, and he's the one that shot me, but now that I know here's there, I can take him out.”

Danny looped a thumb around the strap of his vest and exhaled smoke through his nose. “Where is it? Looked to me like they had people everywhere.”

“By the graveyard,” he said eagerly, and you could tell Danny knew exactly where that was. “Come that way if you can, but — ” He looked a little smug. “I’ll probably have the flag by then.”

“Yeah, but you gotta get it back here, Jakey,” Sam teased. “Think you can manage that?”

“Come with me and be my bodyguard,” he joked right back. “I could use a few bodies between me and a paintball, Sammy.”

Josh came tramping in as Danny finished his cigarette, looking a little worse for wear with paint splattered on his shoulder, his chest, and his leg.

“Damn, Josh,” Sam laughed. “You got your ass kicked, huh?”

Josh sat down heavily on the bench, gratefully accepting a bottle of water from his twin. 

“Yeah, well, some moron shot me while I was on my way back,” he said. He swilled the water. “As if I wasn't bright fucking green already.”

You all laughed and commiserated with him, Sam distracting him from his losses by regaling him with the tale of being shot by his own team member.

“And you'll never guess who it was,” he said.

Josh raised a brow and looked at Danny.

“Wasn’t me!” he protested with a laugh. “Kitkat’s the sharpshooter, not me.”

You took the subsequent ribbing with grace.

“He scared me!” you said, laughing. “Running around the corner like a bat out of hell!”

“Now, Sam,” Josh said, pointing an accusing water bottle at his brother. “You should know better than to scare our poor kitkat.”

Jake took his leave when his time was up, telling you all to come join him at the graveyard, and pretty soon it was time for you, Danny, and Sam to get back to the game as well. Josh wished you good luck, saying he'd join the group guarding your team's flag, and you headed out into the fray again.

“I’m gonna go by Jason’s house,” Sam said, indicating the path to the Friday the 13th set. “I know Jake said to go the other way, but hey, no guts, no glory.”

You parted ways and took off towards the graveyard, Danny leading you down the path, weaving between trees and narrowly avoiding being shot several times. Somebody jumped out at you from behind a headstone, but Danny stepped in front of you and took the player out before they could even shoot.

“My hero,” you said dreamily.

He laughed. “Come on, trouble.”

You were quiet and cautious as you neared the location of the flag, dodging the guards and hiding behind every bit of cover you could find. The action wasn't so feverish here, though the air was more tense; guards roamed around, almost a dozen of them, and you and Danny were furtive and careful as you made your way around them.

“If I get shot,” you whispered, “I’ll go back alone and you keep looking for the flag.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure. You have to be at Jake to it.”

He breathed a laugh and patted your helmet. “Okay. Good deal.”

You met Jake a few minutes later, trudging upright and without caution back the way you'd come, green paint glowing on his thigh. You caught his attention, and he was more wary as he hunkered down beside you and Danny.

“The flag is right there,” he said, motioning over the little rise in front of you. “Go get it. Be careful. I’ll wait here and guard you while we go back.”

You pulled at Danny's sleeve. “Do you want me to stay too?” You were worried you'd slow him down as he went to get the flag, but he shook his head.

“No way,” he said. “You’re gettin’ that flag, kitkat. You'll be like the final girl in a paintball slasher movie. You're gonna win this whole thing.”

You doubted it, but his conviction was sweet all the same. You held onto the back of his vest as you walked quickly over the rise, keeping low, and he reached a hand back to reassure you.

Then, like a bright green beacon right in the middle of the graveyard, was the flag with the starry witch hat. None of the guards suspected anyone would be that close, so you were free to take it and get back to your hiding spot without being caught. You could hardly believe that you'd gotten it, and Jake almost gave you position away in his excitement when you showed him. 

“Holy shit!” he said, a yell contained in a fervent whisper. “You got it! Hide it under your vest, kitkat, before somebody sees it!”

“Are we allowed to hide it?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Danny answered, “but whoever brings the flag in can't be hit. Stay close, kitkat.”

You shoved the flag between your shirt and your vest, hiding the bright green, and the three of you set off at a run back to base. You heard when someone realized the flag was gone, and the three of you moved even quicker; you were being chased now, shots coming rapidly from behind you. Jake was already hit, so he moved behind you to take the brunt of it; you could see the light of the base when Danny gave a grunt of pain and stumbled forward.

“‘S okay, keep going,” he said, a little winded from the impact. The player who'd shot him was coming up close now, but they didn't shoot; maybe they didn't know you were there, and Danny and Jake were glowing already.

“There’s somebody else with them,” the other player said to a companion close behind. Thinking fast, you ran your sleeve over Danny's back and held up your hand.

“I’m hit too,” you said, the paint glowing as evidence.

The players let you go, fooled by the ruse and confident that even if you did have the flag, it would have to be returned if you showed up hit. Danny and Jake barely contained their glee.

“I can't believe that worked!” Danny said, boyishly pounding you on the back when you were a safe distance from the other players. “Holy shit, kitkat! That was incredible!” 

You wobbled a little under the strength of his pride and praise, grinning up at him.

“Let’s go!” Jake urged. “We’re almost there!”

You ran headlong towards the base, caution thrown to the wind as you were back among your own team, the boys whooping and hollering as you barreled in.

“We got it!” Danny yelled as you came into base. “We got the flag!”

The players gathered close around you.

“Show ‘em,” he said eagerly.

You held their attention and pulled the flag out with a flourish.

“Voilà,” you said dramatically. “The witch’s hat!”

Your team erupted into cheers, losing themselves in the excitement of victory, and only quieted down when the ref came to examine the win.

“You have paint on you,” he said, looking at your sleeve with a critical eye. “If you were hit, it doesn't count.”

“She wasn't hit,” Jake said, dragging Danny around to show off the smudged mark on his back. “She put Danny's paint on her to trick the guys who were chasing us, and it worked.”

The paint showed clear evidence that you hadn't been hit, only smeared with paint, and the ref declared it a victory with a blast of the air horn. Your team cheered and crowded you, Danny, and Jake, lauding you as the conquering heroes. 

Sam and Josh came in from the playing field, fairly tackling you as they celebrated your victory. Buffeted on all sides by fervor and excitement, you were glad to feel Danny's steadying hand on your back; he handed the flag off to a bunch of players who ran to gloat at the other team, pulling you close to his side.

“Still good?” he asked. His smile was warm as he looked down at you.

You beamed. “Good? I feel amazing! I am the final girl, like you said! I can't believe I won!”

He laughed and gave you a victory kiss. “I can, kitkat. I knew you could do it.”

When things had settled back down and everyone was wiped of paint from the previous game, the flags were hidden again and another game started. You decided to stay with Josh for guard duty and let Danny run free, and you knew he was having a good time with Jake and Sam. You and Josh did a fine job as guards, taking people out as they tried to capture your flag, Josh giving you pointers on your aim until it wasn't half bad. Some sneaky player eventually got both of you from behind, though, and you could do nothing but watch as they made off with the flag.

“Maybe they'll get hit,” you said hopefully.

A few moments later, a victory roar was heard from the opposite base, and Josh gave you a wry smile.

“Or not,” he said cheerfully. He put his arm around your shoulders. “You still won the first one, though, so I'd say we did alright.”

The game was slated to go on as long as people wanted to play, but you and the boys took your leave when that round was over. Cleaning and packing up your gear, you decided to meet at the diner for a celebratory dinner in the wee hours of the morning.

Over cups of decaf and plates of wonderfully greasy diner food, the five of you sat comfortably squeezed in the cracked vinyl booth and relished in your victory. “Time Warp” from Rocky Horror warbled from the ancient jukebox in the corner, and as you sat shoulder to shoulder with the twins and across from Sam and Danny, you felt yourself smile at the comfort and closeness of your little family.

While the Kiszkas replayed every moment of the glorious battle, you and Danny snuck out to the parking lot for a smoke. It was a bit of a tradition now, and you snuggled close in the warm pools of light spilling from the diner windows. 

“I think we should make this a new tradition,” Danny said. “You winning the annual paintball game.”

You laughed. “We can try, anyway.” You tucked your hand under his jacket. “Thanks for inviting me. And for staying with me.”

“I love you,” he said simply. “I’m glad you came.”

You watched the cars go by, said hello to the diner cat who often roamed around looking for scraps of bacon or a friendly pet. Danny pulled another cigarette from his pocket.

“You want to see a magic trick?” he asked. “It’s almost as cool as when you pulled the flag out.”

You watched his hand. “Sure. Show me.”

He did some fancy moves with the cigarette as you wondered what exactly you were watching for, and you were so busy watching his hands that you didn't notice what the real trick was.

“Abracadabra,” he said, and snuck a kiss.

You giggled and pushed him away. “That was a terrible magic trick!” you protested.

He smiled. “So you don't want me to do it again?”

You wound your arms around his neck. “I didn't say that.”

He kissed you and held you close, and you decided it wasn't such a bad magic trick after all.

“I love you,” he said sweetly. “Happy Halloween, my final girl. I hope you survive every movie and take me with you.”

You laughed and looked up into his beloved face, thinking you'd much rather be in the romcom you were in right now, but with Danny, you'd be happy with anything, even a slasher flick.

“Aw, Danny.” You gave him a kiss. “Me too.”

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hii, since you asked for some Sam requests, I throught about this.

What about something where reader (female if possible) is a werewolf and it's like full moon, and she's super insecure because she doesn't want to hurt him but he stays with her during the transformation? And it's just super fluffy before and after? Also, It would be great if It was season 1 Sam :3

Thank you in advance, don't worry if you can't or don't want to do this request^^

Have a good day/night <3

.⋆｡Beneath The Moonlight｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x werewolf!plus size reader

You have a deadly secret that you’ve been keeping for almost 12 years but when Sam Winchester blows back into your life, he proves to you that it’s ok to need someone else to help with the burden

Warnings: angst, self-loathing, fear, brief references to a werewolf’s diet, self-harm in the form of using silver against herself, fluff, almost confession, I made her a little more of a traditional werewolf cause I can, brief mention of dead parents, Dean really wants to be Sammy’s wingman

WC: 1.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Your eyes darted to the clock above the kitchen sink as you sliced off yet another piece of pie for the ravenous hunter in your living room. There was just about an hour left till sunset- only an hour until the full moon would breach the horizon and you would be swallowed up by the monster that lived in your chest.

Even now, you could feel her flexing her claws and pushing against the walls of your mind. She wanted out and she would do anything to be free.

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing back the sting of tears as you took a deep breath and left the solitude of your small kitchen.

Sam and Dean, the sons of the man that saved you from a werewolf pack 12 years ago. John made it a habit to check in on you every once in a while but after he went missing, Dean decided that he should take on that responsibility. So as you were preparing to weather out another full moon chained up in the basement beneath your isolated farmhouse, the younger two Winchesters appeared on your doorstep, inviting themselves in. 

You knew you had to get them out, no one knew your secret and if they found out, you were sure that a silver bullet to the heart was in your future.

“It’s gettin kinda late don’t you think?” You desperately tried to keep your voice level but the flash of hazel told you that you weren’t doing a very good job. You handed Dean his third slice of pie while vehemently ignoring Sam’s gaze.

He had always known how to read your body language, even when you were both 10. “I thought you liked having us here sweetheart.” Dean attempted to croon but instead spat pie chucks across your coffee table. You shot him a look and he sheepishly wiped it up with his shirt sleeve

“I’ve got jobs I have to do early tomorrow and if you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly have the space to house two hunters.” Dean paused mid-bite and cleared his throat before a devious smirk grew over his lips.

“Well I guess not but you certainly have room for one.” Before you could comprehend what the older boy was implying, he had wolfed down the rest of his pie and sprung up from the couch with a speed you thought he could never possess, and ran out the front door while yelling behind him. “Have a good night!”

The roar of the Impala’s engine carried over the quiet fields surrounding your house before Sam was even halfway down the hall. Your hands trembled as he walked back into the room, an embarrassed smile on his face. “I’m sorry about him. I can call a taxi or just walk back to town if you really want me gone.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine Sam. Let me clean up and I’ll set up the bed for you.” Your throat was tight with anxiety as you felt the beast inside you grin. He’ll make a good snack, you could hear her say.

“I couldn’t take your bed.” He started but you waved him off with what you hoped was a comforting smile and not a grimace. 

“You’re too tall to fit on the couch and I won’t accidentally wake you up in the morning if you’re in my room.” Sam’s footsteps followed you into the kitchen. “Go on, I’ll only be a couple minutes. There should be some extra soap in the hall closet if you want a shower.”

You chanced a look back at your friend and caught the briefest glimpse of a soft look on his face. “Thank you.” He silently turned and left, presumably to make use of your small shower, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

If he was in your bedroom, he wouldn’t hear your screams as you turned.

——————

Pain blazed through your veins like a drug, slowly ripping you apart only to stitch you back together and do it all over again. She hated that you had tied yourself up like a dog- a silver infused iron chain wrapped around your neck and bolted to the reinforced concrete floor, the muzzle that kept her from howling bound tightly to your face and the handcuffs around your wrist that prevented you from moving lest the pure silver burn through your skin.

You eased yourself back against the far wall of the basement and turned your head to look out the lone window in the room. It was small and protected by iron bars but it allowed the warm summer breeze to wash over you, granting you a brief reprieve from the agony you were in.

As the weak moonlight finally brushed over you, your senses sharpened. You could smell the leftovers in your fridge and the scent of soap, you could see the small bugs that flew past the window and the small particles of dust that floated through the dark air. You could hear footsteps-

The basement door creaked open and you whimpered, the sound too grating on your sensitive ears. “Leave!” You snarled, your voice deeper and more dangerous as the wolf slowly consumed your mind. The footsteps continued.

Sam appeared at the bottom of the stairs, dressed only in his jeans and a t-shirt. He smelt like you with a mixture of his natural musk that you could only detect when he hugged you. His eyes were downturned and shining with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” The laugh bubbled up from your chest before you could stop it. It was broken and sounded more like a hyena’s cackle than any sound a human could make.

“I only know hunters, what would happen if I told them I need to eat hearts to live?” Sam flinched but didn’t look scared, he almost looked… sheepish.

“Guess you’re right.” He stepped closer to you, his tall body now illuminated by the pale moonlight. “What I meant to say was, why didn’t you tell me?” 

Silence washed over the both of you and your eyes dropped down. The shadows around you were steadily getting shorter, closing you into the far corner of the basement in a vain attempt to keep your wolf at bay.

“You left, like you were meant to. I’m meant to be alone.” You were struggling to speak as your mind slipped into a more primitive state. “Alone- can’t hurt anyone.”

Your ribs cracked and Sam stepped forward. Another wave of his scent washed over you making your chest rumble with a pleased sound. “I would’ve stayed, for you.” 

Warmth bloomed across your face even as your back collided with the cool brick wall. “I would’ve taken care of you.” He slowly dropped to his knees only an arm’s length away from you, the moonlight following behind him. 

Suddenly you were both ten years old again and grappling with the concept that the monsters in your nightmares were real. But yet again, there was the hazel-eyed son of a hunter telling you that everything was going to be ok and that even if no one else was, he would be there for you, no matter what.

A large, warm hand cupped your full cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. “Sh-sh-should be scared.” You growled but nuzzled into his touch anyway, desperate for the first piece of physical affection you had felt since your parents died. He smiled and took the chance to place his other hand beneath where the collar rested across your neck.

“I could never be scared of you.” Your eyes sparkled with tears which he quickly wiped away as soon as they fell. “And you don’t need to be scared of hurting me or anyone else for that matter. I’ll protect you.”

The moon bathed both of you in a serene light for only a moment before your vision began to blur and your body trembled under the strain of your transformation. “I won’t leave you behind, never again.” But it sounded more like ‘I love you’.

And as you finally surrendered to the monster within you, Sam’s face was the last thing you saw and for the first time since you had been condemned to this life, you knew peace.

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[stanfiction-withsoos]

slams open door

SHUT UP new stan alter just dropped. this ones a woman. transfem stan truthers rejoice

a fictive of " the dutchess " from the dutchess approves. she split to deal with weirdmageddon (but was a fragment before that).

shes a protector and, just like 8ball, can pack a mean punch. she and 8ball are a lot alike, actually, though shes better at letting her guard down.

she tends to front for days at a time and tends to get very dysphoric, wearing dresses helps somewhat but theres also the fact that. this like 20 year old feminine alter is stuck in the body of an old, sweaty man.

(ford always makes sure to remind her how cute she is though <3)

im struggling to come up with a name for her, unfortunately... i was gonna go with the name of her canon actor (sturly) but then i realized that literally nobody is named sturly, so ive found a few other S names that could fit her:

Stella

Saisha

Sophia/Sophie

Sylvie

Sally

these werent chosen for any particular reason, i just wanted to find some names that were distinctly feminine and couldnt really be turned into something masc (ex: like how samantha could be turned into sam)

IDK!! lmk what ya'll think :3

[pagannatural]

Season 1. Wincest Narrative

The way this story unfolds is so, so beautiful and I lose my mind a little when I think about it as a whole. When it opens, the brothers haven’t spoken in 3 or 4 years even though they've both desperately wanted to, and they both think the other doesn't want them. The first time they see each other after Sam walks out, they struggle in the dark and pin each other to the ground and then run away together.

Season character arcs

Sam begins the season ostensibly satisfied with his life at Stanford, with a career plan and a long-term relationship. Two things have to happen to disrupt that- Dean coming back into his life, and Jessica being killed. Kind of a switcheroo. 

Sam was going to marry his Dean-replacement girlfriend. He was never going to talk about his past even though he still thought about it all the time, still looked up cases and tried to follow along with what was happening in Dean’s life. He was going to box his past up and put it away forever and pretend to fit in because this is the life he chose, and because Dean didn't pick him. And then Dean literally breaks through Sam's careful barriers and all it takes is a gruff “yeah well I don’t want to [do this without you]", and Sam packs his bags. He doesn't even look back when Jessica asks where he’s going. He doesn’t kiss her goodbye. 

The way Dean appears to Sam as this dangerous, rough-around-the-edges, so familiar and so alive and so secret fork in the road is just delicious.

Dean starts the season believing that Sam has rejected and abandoned him. He wants his little brother back so badly, but he truly thinks Sam doesn’t want him. He finally has something to approach Sam with that maybe Sam will care about enough to come back to him- their dad, missing. I haven't seen this episode but I know later in the show Dean says he waited for hours outside before he broke in, agonizing over what Sam would say.

Over the course of the season Dean pursues Sam and shows him that he will protect him, keep him safe, choose him, respect him, and save him. The one thing he won't do is corrupt him, which is what he believes their feelings for each other would do. That's a conflict he'll bring into next season, but Sam decides to love him anyway. Sam tries so hard to hold onto the world outside of Dean but he ends up succumbing. By the end of the season, they’ve accepted that they're the most important things to each other.

John’s role is crucial to Sam and Dean’s relationship

Sam wants to belong and to be his own person. John is the force dictating his life before he leaves, so he has to get away from John. It’s not possible for Sam to grow up without breaking from his dad.

John gives bundled baby Sammy to Dean the night of the fire and that’s pretty much the way their relationships with each other form. John has handed Sam off to Dean. They hold conflicting positions in Sam’s life. 

John is a larger-than-life god-like figure to Dean. He’s distant and he has all the answers and all the power and his word is law, and Dean’s contract with him is to Take Care of Sam. So Dean serves this purpose under John’s rule until they reach a point at which Dean can’t take care of Sam without breaking from John and growing up. That rupture came to a head when Sam left for Stanford and Dean takes his first steps toward replacing John when John goes missing, by going to Sam. Dean makes the first move after years have passed to reconnect, something not even John would do.

Sam and Dean are fighting against getting close again for different reasons

Sam wishes he could have a normal life. A normal life is by necessity also a life distant from Dean. In the first episode, when Dean drops Sam off at Stanford and tells him they made a pretty good team, Sam looks conflicted and chokes out a “yeah” before watching Dean drive away. He knows they make a good team, that’s not the problem. Throughout this season, he is at war with wanting to be with Dean vs wanting to be normal.

From the very first episode and throughout the entire season, it’s obvious that they were very close before Sam left. They make each other angry and they make each other laugh and they communicate just by looking at each other- strategizing and seeking each other’s opinions and assessing each other’s needs in glances. They instantly fold back into each other’s lives, they save each other over and over. They gravitate toward each other and walk in sync and stand in each other’s spaces. There’s this sense that they know one another, not just better than anyone else, but better than anyone could ever possibly know them. It's clear to the viewer that they're matching puzzle pieces.

And I don’t think Sam’s conflict is actually about hunting versus normal at all. Sam rediscovers his love and aptitude for hunting right away. He feels fulfilled, admires Dean, and enjoys himself much of the time. In “It’s a Terrible Life” (s4) he still asks Dean to run away with him and be hunters together in an alternate universe. So his conflict centers on John and Dean. 

At this point Sam thinks Dean sided with John and abandoned him when he stopped hunting. But it’s more than feeling hurt and abandoned by Dean- Sam literally cannot have both Dean and a life. Dean is all-consuming. Sam could get the things he needs from Dean- belonging and respect- if it weren’t for two things: 1, Dean is still unwilling to break from John in a way that matters and 2, the way that they love each other is so abnormal it feels impossible.

Sam is unwilling to put Dean above everything else because it is in fact a dichotomy- Dean is bigger than just a brother, he can’t fit into Sam’s life as just another part of it. Sam knows that. 

Dean’s conflicts mirror Sam’s. Sometimes he resents hunting and wishes his life could’ve been normal. He faces the same dichotomy- once he becomes more independent from John, he can either have a family and home of his own or he can have Sam, and he hates himself partly because what he wants more is Sam. He knows that's not normal and thinks a part of Sam hates him for it. One reason their connection is so fraught with guilt and shame is because it's sexual/psychosexual, which is why I personally tag everything wincest. The way sexual and romantic relationships are so often a blatant point of conflict between them, the way their scenes are often shot like sex scenes, the jealousy and possessiveness, the way they touch each other, the fact that they see each other as desirable. It all points to a love complicated by sex. I have no problem with the idea of them as platonic soulmates, but I honestly think the text supports just straight-up wincest.

And actually they're not soulmates

They're twin flames. The idea that they're soulmates comes in later, but I think it's more precise and also more useful to the narrative to understand them as twin flames.

Twin flames are one soul split into two people, and their purpose is to cause one another to grow and be challenged by their connection. They're halves and also mirrors. That's why their dynamic is so often this push-pull, why their connection is so palpable, why they find each other in every universe and why they know each other so impossibly deeply. Narratively, one is often pursuing the other and they tend to push each other to the deepest depths of highs and lows. They separate, but they always come back to each other.

[1000roughdrafts]

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers. 

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her. 

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her. 

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying. 

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly. 

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?" 

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car." 

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -" 

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?" 

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!" 

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four. 

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?" 

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy." 

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?" 

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!" 

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly. 

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N. 

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean. 

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge. 

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight. 

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles. 

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday." 

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way. 

"Yeah," Sam nods. 

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word. 

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?" 

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?" 

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls. 

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking. 

Sam huffs, "Who's that?" 

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N. 

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead. 

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..." 

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again. 

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it. 

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam. 

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!" 

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that." 

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips. 

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge. 

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him. 

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks. 

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know." 

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on. 

"What the-," Dean says. 

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks. 

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them. 

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing. 

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge. 

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?" 

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water. 

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her. 

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him. 

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!" 

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit. 

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing." 

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him. 

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest. 

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead. 

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static. 

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths. 

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away. 

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest. 

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue. 

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him. 

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop." 

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N. 

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest. 

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again. 

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor. 

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be." 

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits. 

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks." 

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start." 

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks. 

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods. 

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters. 

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.  

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat. 

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N. 

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-" 

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N. 

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers. 

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head. 

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation." 

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge." 

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me." 

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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Sam <3 (not including the tags already above :) ) @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess @sizekinkshawty

[runawaymaven]

guilty as sin? paul x reader - part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Over the next few days, life with Sam and Emily slowly began to feel less foreign, but the looming knowledge of everything you had learned about the Quileutes still lingered in your mind. Werewolves. Imprinting. Protectors of the tribe. It sounded like something out of a storybook, yet here you were, living it.

Sam had been patient, answering all of your questions about the legends, his transformation, and what it meant for the pack to protect La Push from the "Cold Ones," as they called the vampires. The more you learned, the more you realized how different your new life in La Push was going to be compared to your old one in London.

You were still trying to adjust when you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table one morning, watching Emily cook breakfast. The smell of sizzling bacon filled the air, and you were grateful for the normalcy of the moment. It was peaceful—until the door swung open, and the pack barged in.

"Morning, Y/N!" Quil greeted you with a grin, already grabbing for food. "Settling in okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," you said, offering a small smile. "Still getting used to... everything."

Embry, who was pouring himself a glass of orange juice, chuckled. "Yeah, we’re not exactly a quiet bunch."

“No kidding,” you teased, feeling a bit more comfortable around them than when you first arrived. Despite the chaos, they had a way of making you feel welcome. Even though everything was still overwhelming, their energy was infectious. Well, most of the time.

You glanced up as Paul entered the room, his gaze locking with yours instantly. He hadn’t spoken to you much since the night he explained imprinting, but you could feel the pull between you every time he was near. It was strange—almost like gravity, an invisible force drawing you toward him.

Paul sat down next to you, not saying much, but his presence felt... reassuring. There was something calming about him, despite how intense he had seemed when you first met.

“How are you feeling?” Paul asked quietly, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m... better,” you admitted, unsure of how else to describe it. You still had so many emotions to sort through—your mother’s death, adjusting to a new family, and of course, the whole werewolf thing. But in the midst of all that, Paul’s concern felt like a steadying anchor.

Paul nodded, his expression soft. "Good. Remember, I’m here if you need anything."

Before you could respond, Sam cleared his throat, standing at the head of the table. “Alright, guys, pack meeting tonight. We’ve got some things to go over.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, curious but also feeling a bit out of place. You still weren’t entirely sure where you fit in with all of this.

Sam glanced at you, his gaze thoughtful. “We’re tracking a few things around the perimeter, but nothing you need to worry about. You’re safe here.”

You nodded, but a sense of unease settled in your chest. It was hard not to feel like an outsider in their world, even if they were all trying to make you feel like part of the family. It was a lot to take in.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the porch, needing some air. The quiet hum of the forest was soothing, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, letting the breeze wash over you. This place was different from the busy streets of London—quieter, slower.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Paul appeared beside you. You hadn’t noticed him come outside, but you didn’t mind. There was something about his presence that put you at ease, even when you were still figuring out what imprinting truly meant.

“Want to take a walk?” he asked, his tone casual, though you could sense something deeper behind his words.

You nodded, standing up to follow him. As you walked side by side through the forest, the silence between you was comfortable, the tension you’d felt around him easing a bit. After a few minutes, Paul spoke up.

“I know this is a lot, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “But I meant what I said before. I’m not going to push you into anything. I want you to feel... okay here.”

You glanced up at him, his sincerity clear in his expression. “I appreciate that,” you replied softly. “It’s just... everything is happening so fast, you know? Losing my mum, finding out I have a brother, moving here, and now... this whole imprinting thing.”

Paul stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes locking with yours. “I know. And I’m sorry you’re going through all of this. I wish I could make it easier.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the sounds of the forest surrounding you. There was something about the way Paul looked at you that made your heart race, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite. You felt safe with him, even if you weren’t sure what the future held.

“I guess I just need time,” you said quietly.

Paul nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

The warmth in his words stayed with you as you continued your walk, and for the first time since you arrived in La Push, you felt like maybe—just maybe—things would be okay.

[mountainashes]

Washington sibs hcs n thoughts n stuff

They're actually triplets, Josh being born on the 31st of January and Han and Beth being on the 5th of February.

They were all born in 1995.

They're all fraternal.

Josh and Han are both trans.

Hannah and Beth are both 5'8 (as it says on their missing posters) and Josh is 5'7 (based of the actor's height).

Both Hannah and Beth are shown to be decently sporty, and both joined school clubs for tennis and football n stuff. Josh is also decently active but didn't care to actually join any teams or anything.

Beth is the youngest but she often was the one who looked out for the other two in school. Moreso Hannah than Josh.

Hannah met Sam in 3rd grade not too long after Josh met Chris, and Beth met Jess and Em in 5th.

Hannah met Sam in her gym class when they were put in the same team for dodgeball.

Beth met Jess and Em because she sat close to them and Jess talks to everyone.

Beth likes hockey as well.

Beth plays lots of instruments, mostly guitar though.

In 1st to 3rd grade, before they really made close friends, the three of them just kind of stuck with eachother as much as possible, though Beth was really quite popular because she was the most outgoing.

Hannah always liked collecting stuff like feathers, rocks and bones. Josh and her would often go out looking around for those types of things, especially up on Blackwood.

Around the time of the prologue, Hannah is quite lean in figure, tall and strong. Beth is tall but slumps a lot more and is a bit stockier, but also strong. Josh is pretty similar to Beth.

Hannah loves bugs, Beth is neutral to them and Josh hates them.

Hannah has a pet spider (Josh hates it).

Up at the lodge they enjoy doing general maintenance work like chopping firewood.

They can all shoot (Bob taught them all at the firing range) but only Josh actually found any sort of enjoyment from it.

Beth's full name is Bethany (I was torn between that and Elizabeth for ages but then I leaned Bethany means 'house of suffering' and I think that fits with the game better, so).

As kids they were all scared of the lodge at night because it is haunted asf.

Josh once saw one of the monsters when he was a small child and he still vaguely remembers it but puts it up to childhood imagination.

Beth had lots of weird experiences in the lodge (hearing the whispers n stuff) that she never told anyone because she didn't want to freak her siblings out.

Beth has gotten into trouble for fighting at school because of people being mean to Hannah, very quickly everyone learned not to be mean to her.

Hannah was actually quite well liked in her sports teams and stuff.

Josh and Chris met Ashley in 6th grade when she moved to California.

Her and Sam brought Matt into the friend group in highschool (9th grade, I think that is).

Beth, Jess and Em brought Mike into the group in 10th grade, again they met him because Jess is friendly and chatty with most people.

They have a few cousins that would visit in the summer, or vice versa. They're a little younger but they get on fine.

They all learn to drive but Josh is usually the one designated to do so.

They have gone on roadtrips with just the 3 of them, usually to the middle of nowhere and Josh will try to creep them out when they're visiting forests and stuff.

They have definitely explored old abandoned buildings together.

Josh always packs extra stuff (clothes, food etc) because Hannah and Beth are both likely to forget something.

Both Hannah and Josh are very artsy people, and they can draw really well. Beth isn't as interested in that.

Can't think up any more rn so done.

[astraymetronome]

What do you think would happen between sam & tommy if one of them shrunk and found the other ?

Well, in the situation Tommy shrunk and was found by Sam I'm pretty sure he'd just be pretty protective. Because of how some people are, the stuff under the cut is gonna be me talking about g/t with vore. Everything above the cut is just your normal g/t stuff, though the normal stuff does work with the vore stuff!

I'm kind of going off of the Awesamdad Au by Grimmijaggers on YT for some of this idea. •~•

Sam

Sam would definitely go into a Creeper mindset. He'd probably scoop Tommy up and hide him in his inventory or maybe tuck him away in a pocket, close to his heart.

They would both probably fight a lot, I know it's really out of character, but I think it fits. I'll explain in Tommy's sections.

In the situation Tommy is permanently small, Sam would probably get into the habit of holding him like a kitten. Kinda of scruffing him or holding him using something on his mask to just keep Tommy in his sight and somewhere easily accessible.

Sam would be a very soft giant, constantly worried about the small person with him and checking them over as often as he could. In the event they're hurt, Dream showing up, he would probably be harsh and growl to try and scare them away. I know Sam is, canonically, a bit selfish, and I'm not faulting the man for feeling like a victim, but he'd not be good at fighting. Just a head cannon, since he's so worried over needs and such.

He probably takes his mask off around Tommy, letting the teen see his face and stuff. He probably chitters and chirps to ground him when he's panicking or something, it was definitely a big help when the shrinking first happened-

Tommy

He would definitely burst into laughter at first. He's too much of a menace to take someone shrinking seriously. I know this contradicts my Trapped Dream Au but different situations >:(

I'd probably have raccoon!Tommy for this if I ever make it an au. So Tommy would totally hide Sam in his den and do his best to keep him comfortable. His instincts would either register him as a member of his nursery or a kit he needs to protect.

If anyone was to try and hurt Sam, he would definitely go feral, spitting, hissing and biting until he can either get away or scare the threat away. He is very protective of tiny Sam and will make sure anyone and everyone knows.

Tommy definitely chitters and chirps at Sam when he's being stubborn or something. He'd treat him like a child despite knowing full well he's an adult. I think, in a way, it would be a sense of pride for him. Feeling like he's in control, even if it is inherently bad and unhealthy.

On the fluffy side of things, he would definitely hold Sam with or cover him with his tail when he wants attention or to give some comfort. He'd end up being a good pillar for Sam to rely on when he needed someone or was having a bad shrink day? I don't know how to describe it but I think you get the idea.

Okie- noms from here folks!

Sam

Using the logic that he's a creeper, Sam would probably be pretty protective over small Tommy. Like, he'd be borderline possessive. Tommy would definitely curl up with cats to keep Sam from storing him when he's in trouble. Unorthodox but effective at keeping from time outs.

Sam would so be a very careful pred, he'd not want to hurt Tommy and probably hold his breath whenever they did noms, because his exhales hold thick smoke and heavy carbon. Think of it like his lungs are a working explosion, constantly burning the oxygen he pulls in to make the smoke and stuff he needs? It's weird but cool in my opinion.

Tommy definitely makes smoker jokes and constantly mocks Sam in a smoker voice. It's often the reason he gets nommed because he won't stop insisting Sam smokes 3 packs a day when he needs to be quiet.

At first, Tommy was very scared, like he would scream his lungs out and claw at Sam's storage until he was let out: levels of fear. Now he just squirms and will randomly be loud to scare Sam into thinking he's back when they first started doing this. Aka protective creeper go brrr.

Sam has a colored green storage and Tommy is constantly put off by it like- 'it shouldn't be that color!' and Sam just constantly reminds him that he's barely human and isn't gonna have human insides. Tommy still thinks he needs to fix it. He can't.

Tommy

Tommy took probably five minutes after Sam shrunk before he shoved him in his mouth because: instincts. Let me have this. He is the raccoon child for a reason.

Sam so freaked out and probably gave Tommy plenty of indigestion- probably let off an accidental explosion or two due to his panic. Let's just say Tommy had a scar in his stomach lining that Sam hasn't mentioned. Tommy finds out after having swallowed another shrunk person, probably Tubbo or Ranboo.

He loves teasing Sam, nipping and biting him all the time because it's his love language. Aka he wants to show Sam he cares and does it the only way he really knows- violence and noms. Noms too.

Using raccoons as reference, Tommy soaks Sam in water before he noms him, like Sam knows what's gonna happen when he's being held and Tommy pulls out a water bottle and a bowl.

Tommy spends the entire time Sam is in his storage, or stomach I haven't decided it should have the same conditions as Trapped Dream Au, purring and chittering to himself. He will poke and prod Sam until he's squirming around and stuff because he absolutely loves having the sensation!

If anyone has any other ideas or head cannons for this, send them as asks! I'd love to talk about this more ^^

[sambeawesome]

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[visenyaism]

Top 5 asoiaf historical characters or top 5 povs to read from ?

my favorite chapter of all time still goes to the tyrion boat school chapter in adwd but in terms of favorite POVs to read?

6. joncon- giving myself a bonus one to talk about how reading his chapters made me feel like i was dissolving like a powerpoint transition. there’s just so much grief and love and bitterness and doom packed into there it is unreal.

5. sam- gender. he is just so special i’ve never read a fantasy protag quite like samwell tarly and his quest to realize his compassion, empathy, and courage are his greatest strengths despite being discouraged by hypermasculine violent feudal society. he is the real protagonist of asoiaf to me.

4. jonsnow- i liked his pov’s in all the books, but ADWD where he is just trying as hard as possible not to be the protagonist after going though like 4 different genres (can u BELIEVE he started off as a boarding school protagonist) even though he literally has super strengthis so beloved to me. His ongoing crisis where he has to realize that despite everything everyone tries to impose on him he has only ever been just himself is so so real (just as real as him being king beyond the wall. btw) though getting immediately killed for it has to be a downer. MY son was turncloak of the month at castle black👍

3. Jaime- he’s funny. he’s cringe. he stares a lot for someone who can’t fight. he’s delusional. he can’t fit a whole knight in his head. he hasn’t emotionally matured past the age of seventeen. everything he says is insane and also heartbreaking. i love jaime POVs so much y’all don’t get it.

2. Cersei- reading cersei i for the first time last year rewired my brain and i was loud about it. Unlike cersei i was not raised by a fascist nightmare but as a nonbinary girltwin i can say that getting raised alongside a direct example of what your life would’ve been like without misogyny can be very hard, especially when you hit puberty and the “your brother is a person and you are the girl one” starts to get even louder. I was fucking alarmed how personally compelling her weird gender thoughts were given EVERYTHING else the Lannister twins have going on that is NOT personally relevant to me. Don’t know how george rr martin old cishet man that he is knew about any of that.

She’s completely delusional, and at times her mental gymnastics are so so fucking funny, but the like roiling layer of unspeakable (literally unspeakable she refuses to speak or acknowledge it) pain and fear underneath is what got me really. Watching her scheme out of arrogance and mortal terror really just to gain respect and bodily autonomy (though in the Tywin way where freedom from abuse and the “right” to abuse others are the same thing) and then just losing everything incredibly fucking hard was really compelling. i hope you win.

1. Melisandre- wait i said another chapter was my favorite of all time in this post? no i didn’t not when melisandre i is in the room. i have talked about this one extensively and probably will do so again. Finding out that r’hllor is literally her enslaved and her entire black and white apocalyptic worldview is her attempt to feel safe within that truth because she is still just a scared little girl at heart who needs what she’s saying to be true because if it’s not none of her suffering was worth it was the revelation of all time. That and the revelation that she actually does have a human attachment to Davos to the point that she’s watching over his son to spare him the grief. We WILL get melisandre ii in this lifetime and it will break my heart all over again because she is going to outlive stannis and have to survive the worldview shattering.