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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Fully Completely 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment, blood, cutting, general hatred

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Today, we have more Loki then tomorrow more Zemo and some Sam on Saturday. I might add in some Andy Barber after that but keep plucking away at this and Candy Coated. Anyway, I’ll see you in the comments and the asks.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Hang me long out in the sun

💀💀💀

You sat against the wall, flinching every time you leaned too heavily on the radiator and burned your arm. You were certain Loki cranked the heat before he left as it was stolid and stifling in the large room. Sweat dripped down your body and mingled with the drying blood along your chest. You were uncomfortable but you didn’t want to get comfortable in this place.

You pulled on your wrist until your hand throbbed and the cuffs showed no sign of wear and the radiator didn’t budge. You stretched across the floor until you could reach the edge of the bookshelf and kicked until some books fell, hoping for some hidden pin or tool to pick the lock. There were only musty old books and dust.

You stood, tried to at least, bent over as you stretched your legs. You did awkward squats and extended your arms to your toes, one at least. You rolled your head on your neck so it cracked noisily and settled back against the wall. You were tired, exhausted, but too worked up to sleep.

It hit you all at once as the stench of smoke clung to your shirt and skin. Your shop was gone, your home, everything you worked for. It was another sick joke played on you by the town of Birch.

Bucky was just another bully. He was like that boy in ninth grade who asked you to meet him at the park for a ‘date’ only to stand you up. You remembered the Monday after when he planted a stink bomb in your locker. The men around there were all the same. Everywhere if you were to judge by Loki.

You closed your eyes and thought of your dad. You thought he would’ve been proud to see everything you’d done; a shop of your own, a life where you didn’t have to worry. He said to you, through his dying lungs, that he knew you would be alright, that you could take care of yourself and Jerome. What about your brother then? Shouldn’t he take care of you too?

For the first time in a very long time, you wanted to cry. You kept your eyes shut to keep the tears locked in and slowly your mind eased. You sunk down as the warmth of the radiator embraced you, unbothered by the unyielding heat against your arm. You could hear yourself snore as you succumbed to your fatigue.

You were woken by the clatter of the door below. The old Victorian house echoed every noise and shuddered at every gale without. You lifted your head with a snort and sidled away from the radiator. Your arm was tender from the constant blaze of the radiator and you winced as you touched it. Fuck, it was burned.

You braced yourself as you listened to the slow ascent. You heard him behind the door and watched the knob turn. You sprawled out and slid a book closer with your foot. You got up and grabbed it quickly and stood in a hunch. You flung it at Loki as he entered but he quickly blocked the hardcover tome with the door.

He carefully peeked around the wood and stepped back in with a sigh. He shook his head as he crossed his arms and nodded as Korg appeared behind him. The bigger man placed the collection of shopping bags on the table and left with a dismissive sniff from his boss. The door closed and you were left to simmer alone with Loki.

“Such a warm welcome,” he strode to the table and tapped his fingertips on the wood, “and after I went to all the trouble of replacing your wardrobe. A pity all those wonderful pieces you had were lost.”

“I don’t want any of it,” you sneered, “leave me here, I don’t care.”

“Darling, while I find your resilience admirable it is also rather irksome,” he said, “and you will find that in the end, it will only make all this so much more difficult. You needn’t suffer anymore.”

“‘You needn’t suffer anymore,’” you mimicked him, “just listening to you talk is suffering.”

He turned his face down and clenched his jaw. He turned and reached into a bag. He pulled out a swath of black fabric that unfolded to an elegant dress with subtle black gems along the neckline like stars. You pushed your head back and stared at the ceiling.

“I can understand, a woman like you, men aren’t lining up to give you nice things,” he said, “I wouldn’t exactly call this giving, more… trading.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled as you closed your eyes again, “you know, you woke me up so why don’t you keep it down?”

“I did have to guess at the sizes,” he ignored you brusquely, “but I’ve always had a keen eye.”

“You can shove your dresses and whatever else you wasted your money on up your--”

“Darling,” he interrupted, “I will not warn you again. That lip does provoke me.”

You jutted your jaw out and exhaled. You bent your legs and crossed your arms over your knees. You were too tired to argue with him. Hell, it only seemed to make you feel more helpless as you could not act on your anger. You hated that feeling. It remind you of that stupid teenage girl again; so gullible and weak.

“You cannot remain as you are,” he continued, “and I will not have a slobbish hick on my arm--”

“Jesus Christ, is your dick so small you can’t find another woman?” you hissed.

He was silent. You opened your eyes and hit your head on the wall as you were startled by how quick he moved. He pressed his knee to your chest and pinned you to the wall as he reached into his pocket and plucked out the silver key. He bent and unhooked the cuff from your wrist.

He caught your hand as you clawed at him and coughed as he pushed his knee harder against the cut between your tits. He tore you away from the wall suddenly and thrust you up to your feet. He twisted your arm behind you as he spun you and kicked your feet across the floor. You struggled with him but each time he bent your arm further up your back.

He pushed you onto the bed and straddled you as he angled you along the mattress. You flailed with your legs as he kept you trapped beneath his weight and released your arm. You reached out as he shifted above you and quickly snatched up your hands. He wrapped his long fingers around your wrists and snugly wound his tie in their place before he let go.

He backed off of you so that you laid across your stomach, your hands bound above your head to the bedpost. You rolled over as he marched away and returned just as quickly. He unfolded the razor with the mother-of-pearl handle and you dug your heels into the bed as you tried to free yourself from the silken tie.

He grabbed your leg and held it down. You brought your other knee up and he blocked it with his shoulder, “if you continue on like this, I might catch the artery.”

He held your leg down and pressed the edge of the blade to your thigh. You froze as he sliced into your skin and you grunted through your teeth. He traced a line down your leg and mirrored it on the other. He retreated and looked you over as you glanced down between your legs, the red lines dripping onto the blanket.

“What the fuck?” you yanked on the tie, “you’re fucking insane.”

“You haven’t any idea,” he held up the razor and admired the crimson along the silver, “but if you insist on this little dance, I should be inclined to go deeper.” He closed the razor and winked, “darling, you are looking rather rough,” he remarked, “but scars will not deter me.”

He spun and strode again to the bathroom. He returned and wiped his hands on a white towel and tossed it over the back of the chair. He sat and continued to sort through the bags.

“You think I’m afraid of you, you prick?” you snarled, “you think you’re going to win? When I get free, I’m going to take that blade and cut your dick--”

He stood and his hand formed a fist. He was atop you in a moment but before he could bring his hand to your throat, you bit down on the webbing between his thumb and index finger. He exclaimed and retracted his hand for just a second before he smacked you across the face. Your head snapped to the side and you held in a groan.

This time his hand stretched over your neck and he leaned over you. His hot breath whispered along your cheek and you shivered in disgust.

“Oh, darling, this will be fun indeed,” he purred, “but I have no doubt that you will be prancing around in pretty little skirts for me before long,” he squeezed until you croaked, “you can even keep them on as I fuck you.”

“Go… to… hell,” you rasped.

He snickered and sat back on his heels with you straddled beneath him, “haven’t you realised? We’re already there.”

💀

You laid there for hours after Loki left you. Even though the mattress was preferable to the floor, you didn’t sleep. You stared at the ancient ceiling and cursed every inch of that place.

Your thighs ached and that cut along your chest. Your arm was sore and raw each time it rubbed against your sleeve or the bed. You were more enraged than ever and you could hardly contain it and frustration had you kicking the mattress.

The windows were dark when he returned. He turned on the lamp beside you as the aroma of food tickled your stomach. You were desperately hungry but didn’t realise it until that moment. You salivated and gulped it down as he pulled up a chair and cradled the box in his lap.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” he said as he opened the cardboard container, “but… you have to use your manners, darling.”

“Get fucked,” you rolled onto your side so your back was to him.

“I can hear your stomach so let’s not pretend I believe you for a moment,” he taunted, “you will realise soon how weak you truly are.”

You didn’t say anything, nor did you move. You sneered at the wall as your arms strained above your head. He let out a long breath and then hummed in delight, “mmm, you know, this is not bad,” he commented, “your little diner has been the least disappointing aspect of this shithole.”

You gulped hungrily but refused to look back. He tapped his foot on the floor impatiently and sighed again.

“You would do yourself a favour if you did one for me,” he said, “say, if you accepted this generosity I might allow you another, perhaps a shower. Those cuts cannot remain unwashed.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you cut me,” you spat, “I don’t want anything from you and I definitely don’t want you. I’ll go live in the rubble, I don’t give a fuck.”

“You will,” he said as he stood and dragged the chair away, “but only you will pay for your stubbornness.”

💀

After another tussle, Loki relocated you once more to the radiator. He slept blissfully as you spent another restless night both sweating and shivering. When he woke, he offered you a bowl of instant oatmeal and you flipped it over. He tutted and went on with his day, leaving you again to stew in your wrath.

By the end of the day, your body rebelled with hunger and you accepted the bowl of soup he brought from The Chipped Saucer. You drank it from the paper cup but felt more rotten as it burned in your chest. He smirked as he watched you and you tossed the empty cup at him.

He scowled and you spent another night in cuffs. On the fourth day, he let you shower but kept you cuffed to the curtain bar for the ordeal. All modesty was gone as you were allowed only a plain white robe after and sat in the same spot, metal at your wrist, and wood at your back.

But you didn’t stop. You bit, you kicked, you hit, you swore, you screamed. A week passed and you wouldn’t accept it. You could see you were wearing on him and comforted yourself with the irritation in his sharp green eyes. You laughed at him outright and it stoked him further. He truly thought you’d never dealt with assholes before. You lived among them your whole life.

But that day when he came in, he was quiet though not sullen or angry. He was almost boasting as he still wore his new leather boots and dark parka. He tramped around and pulled out a mauve coloured dress, some satin and impractical undergarments, and a pair of heeled boots. He placed them calmly beside you but kept out of your reach.

He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. You shook your head at him and scoffed. He waited as you simply yawned into your palm.

“Don’t you want to go see your brother?” he asked.

“He can rot with the rest of you,” you hissed.

“So heartless,” he slithered, “but I shall relay the message to him, as hard as it may be.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” you huffed.

“Well, darling, I don’t know if he should hear me or even if he could, that it would put him in a worse condition,” he mused.

“Worse condition?” you grimaced.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, my apologies,” he preened, “why yes, it seems he did have an unfortunate incident. Some suspect it was an attempt on his own life but you know how gossip is in a town so small--”

“What--” you bit down on your lip, “is he… is he okay?”

“Why, he is rotting just as you wished, yes?” he asked coyly.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Tell me he’s okay!” you tried to stand but were kept in a crouch by the cuffs.

“If you get dressed and behave, then you can see for yourself,” he said evenly, “or I will alone and hope that he survives his injuries… I wouldn’t expect the healthcare around here to be very adequate--”

“You fucking touch him--”

“What? You are wasting time, darling, and visiting hours will be over soon,” he warned.

You clenched your jaw and squinted at him. You swallowed your derision and blinked.

“Fine,” you said quietly, “I’ll… behave. Just take me to see him.”

“Good girl,” he came closer and knelt to grab your wrist, “but let me be clear, one misstep and you will never see him again. I should hate for him to die alone.”

“Just fucking undo me,” you snarled and his lips curved in triumph.

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brooklynboysficrecs · 4 years ago

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Ria’s Top 10 Canon-verse Fics

So, I’m a little surprised I’ve held off on doing this particular Top 10 as long as I have, if only because this does cover the majority of stucky fics that have been written. It also contains some of my all-time favorite fics, which I will be screaming about below. You’ve been warned. But anyway, this is getting down into the nitty-gritty of why I love stucky -- the original ‘verse, with the original storyline (although there are a fair few canon-divergent fics in here, I’m sure). Pure, unadulterated Steve Rogers loving Bucky Barnes. What more can you ask for, honestly? You could ask for it to be legit canon, but lmao, no, we don’t expect things like that, especially not from the MCU writers. Also, some of the fics I might’ve included in this list are recced in an ask I got a while ago, so go check that out for some mostly-canon angst. Regardless, here are my personal Top 10 canon-verse fic recs:

1. Ain’t No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar. Alright, buckle up friends, because this is the end-all, be-all of my favorite stucky fics. I have reread it probably four or five times in the four years I’ve been in this fandom, and it hits me just as hard every single time. This is canon-divergent post-WS, where Bucky’s come-down from his Hydra conditioning is accompanied by a drug addiction and two smart-mouthed kids he rescued from the streets. Steve literally loves nothing more than he loves Bucky and he is determined to bring Bucky home, kids included. There is just -- so much I love about this story. I can’t possibly fit it all into a little blurb. But this is my favorite stucky fic, hands-down. It’s a must-read if you can handle the incredibly sensitive topics it covers, which means it’s not for everyone. But it has my highest seal of approval.

2. Perilous Underside of the World by eyres. I reread this recently because I was in the mood for both angst and badass Bucky, and this delivered in spades. Steve’s been kidnapped and held captive by Ross for months, tortured and experimented on, and it as devastating as it sounds. Cue Bucky and the rest of Team Cap coming in for a rescue mission and an adrenaline-filled adventure through the Antarctic wasteland. The summary says it all, honestly: Steve throws a snow-mobile at a helicopter in this one.

3. Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film by eleveninches, febricant, hellotailor, M_Leigh, neenya, tigrrmilk. A lot of fics are enhanced by visual media, usually some type of fanart, but few are incomplete without it -- this fic is one of them. It’s a look through in-universe media depictions of Captain America over the years, with real-life casting and amazingly done posters for the movies. The various Avengers are there to react to it all and it’s nothing short of glorious.

4. Came Back Haunted* by Brenda. You guys should know how much I love Brenda’s writing, since I waxed poetic about it when I was doing the rec for Prince Charming, but I’m going to say it again: I love her writing. And this is yet again another fic series that will tear at your heart and stitch you back together again. It features, among other things: Bucky and Thor friendship; a road-trip; dark Steve; and bearded Steve! All good things. It’s been a while since I’ve read this, but I’m pretty assured there is much angst to be found here as well, plus the requisite happy ending, because, as previously mentioned, I don’t do unhappy endings.

5. Tender is the Ghost* by Hark_bananas. OH WOW. Okay. So. I started reading this series right before the second part had been published, and I just. Fell in love with it. The first part is set right after Bucky turned himself into SHIELD, and it features Steve and Bucky re-learning about each other (and themselves) through a closed door, considering Steve isn’t allowed to see Bucky face-to-face. And the second part picks up once Bucky is ready to go home with Steve, and it’s. So sweet. Bucky and Steve recovering, together, and finding love along the way. Bucky loves plants. What more could you ask for?

6. Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail* by owlet. I think this is probably one of the most popular series in this fandom, and for good reason. It’s Bucky setting himself a new goal after the fallout of Project Insight, and that goal is a protection detail for Steve Rogers, well before he has his memories to back up the need for such a thing. Bucky and Steve don’t get romantically involved until much later in the series, but their friendship is a thing of beauty in this, as is Bucky learning how to be human again, through coffee, grilled cheese, and The Olds, the elderly neighbors he comes to care for while he’s watching Steve’s back from across the street. I adore this series and I think most people would be hard pressed to find anything they don’t like about it.

7. The Blood Will Dry by castiowl. There are clones in this one. It might be the sci-fi nerd in me, but honestly that’s enough information to hook me already. But this fic is a fantastic, gripping read from start to finish, and the clones are only a part of that. It’s another fic that written right after The Winter Soldier came out, and so it has a lot of the hallmarks of that era: Bucky dealing with his conditioning, coming back to himself and Steve, Hydra-hunting missions, some kidnapping, unfortunate throwbacks to torture, and Steve having to figure his own shit out right alongside Bucky.

8. To Stop My Mind From Wandering by Lynchy8. This one is a little shorter than the other fics on this list, but it’s still one of my favorites, and for a much different reason than the others. This is Bucky and Steve separated for the majority of the fic, with Bucky taking up residence in Steve abandoned apartment while he’s off being Captain America and also looking for Bucky. Bucky does home repairs for Steve. Steve broods and worries. Bucky heals on his own terms and it’s lovely. And the ending is very sweet when Steve finally does come home.

9. despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximiter. AKA The Mask Fic. Which. Jesus Christ. This should’ve gone in with my angst fic recs, because this will hurt you, in the best possible way. Bucky’s mask doesn’t come off, and so there’s no pivotal moment of realization for Steve, no hellfire determination to ensure Bucky survives their fights against all odds. But he’s saved regardless, and the rest of the fic is the team trying to communicate with him, learn his story, all while Bucky can’t speak and the mask physically cannot come off. Like I said, it’s a recipe for Pain, but the pay-off is more than worth it, in my opinion.

10. waiting for the winter by coldhope. Also just recently reread this one, and I loved the progression of Steve and Bucky’s relationship here as well. It also has Bucky befriending all of the Avengers, not just Natasha or Sam; getting to see from other characters’ POV how their perception of Bucky changes as the fic goes on was so interesting, since it’s not something I’ve seen done in many fics. Which also might be a personal thing on my part, who knows. Anyway. Good fic. Steve and Bucky don’t take forever to figure out their feelings, but they do take a while to get on the same page with each other, which should surprise absolutely no one who has ever read a stucky fic before.

*series, not individual story titles

#stucky #stevebucky #fic rec #canon-verse #canon-divergent #top 10

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finaledenialist · 4 years ago

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Okay, your tags on The Empty Post have showed up in my notes and I have to ask. Tell me more. Tell me it all. All of the feelings and thoughts about that scene because what I’ve seen so far? Absolute perfection and I agree wholeheartedly.

Thank you! Okay I basically unloaded most of my thoughts in my tags here but let’s go through this one more time. I may add: this was already said a thousand times by better meta writers than me 3 years ago when season 13 was actually airing. And I will ramble a little about Purgatory, too. Now with that out of the way:

The Empty. Canonically it is a being, a living immortal being that rules the place or an ‘anti-place’ where angels and demons go are sent to when they die to dream of their regrets forever (this sounds awful and like a punishment for dying despite being immortal, for getting themselves killed or something). Also: the Empty was there before Creation, the Nothingness before Darkness and before Light.

Okay. But let’s see what other things the Empty represents: lack of anything. Complete nothingness that Cas got sucked into (by Lucifer but also by helping the Winchesters). Now we know that Cas‘I am afraid I might kill myself’tiel had his issues, right (I still can’t believe that we are praising 8x08 thee Hunteri Heroici for being a filler episode with Cas - which is awesome, don’t get me wrong - but we all keep forgetting what he actually did say to Dean there!!! Dean says: are you afraid the angels will kill you if you show up in Heaven? And Cas looks straight into his eyes and says: After all I’ve done, when I see Heaven, I am afraid I might kill myself).

Please remember that it’s not only Dean, Mr. ‘Purgatory was pure’. Cas, after all he did in season 6, after his death in s7, after coming back and being literally haunted by everything he’s done, must have felt that Purgatory was liberating, too. It was some kind of an Alternative Universe where he didn’t have to face the consequences of his actions. He was free of them. It was literally his escape AND additionally it was (well, according to good old christian lore, maybe not specifically spn lore) a place where you are supposed to atone for your sins so there must have been the feeling of atoning, of making things right without actually doing anything specific, where having to survive and not get eaten by the Leviathans was his main problem (= surviving was just enough, nothing was asked of him), which, compared to all he’s done, wasn’t that hard or difficult. He found himself running away from Leviathans which could mirror running away from consequences of his actions - but it was Purgatory, it was at the same time atoning for what he did. It was EASY.

Cas basically confirms that he officially stayed in Purgatory because he didn’t think he deserved to go back to Earth and that is true but what he doesn’t say is: ‘Purgatory was pure and easy and kill or be killed and no other worries than that, no thinking, no real responsibilities which actually was a nice escape from the real world after all I did and been through in the past 3 years’. He wanted out, he wanted an easy choice. Okay, maybe he wasn’t actively looking for an easy way out but when it presented itself - when they appeared in Purgatory - he took it like a gift. We’re talking about a character who spent all his life following orders, who finally broke free and found himself completely lost in the freedom of choices, directionless and maybe wanted an escape. He must have felt overwhelmed but all this freedom (which he basically confirms in 6x20 freedom is a length of rope and god wants you to hang yourself with it). I COMPLETELY understand that choice to escape.

So in seasons 8-12 Cas has a lot of stuff going on in his head, he gets lobotomized for most of season 8, he is hurt and tortured and treated like shit for most of season 9 and 10 and he ultimately gives himself up to Lucifer in s11 and then he almost dies in 12x12 and he never really got to talk about all of this or work this things out with anyone because Sam or Dean are not really the most talkative guys and Dean in 10x09 basically tells Cas to ‘let it go and not think about it’ which is a shitty advice to someone who suffers from some mental issues if I am being honest (this is like. ur depressed? oh go for a run and smile and stop being sad!!! kind of advice if you ask me). So these issues only grow and grow and start eating him up and please remember that at the very same time Cas is falling in love. I said it previously but I think the moment he realizes what he really feels is 12x12 when he is dying. In that moment he is able to name this feeling but it’s of course covered by: ‘I love you. I love all of you’.

Now in season 12 he finally gets a proper arc with Kelly (god bless her, honestly, she and Cas had one of the most healthy relationships ever portrayed on tv and it wasn’t even romantic, I could go off about this but it’s getting really long anyway). So he kind of is on his way to find a purpose again - Dean is saved (from hell, from Michael, from the Mark), so he focuses on Kelly and unborn Jack and maybe in his relationship with her he rediscovers love (not necessarily romantic but he sees how she loves Jack) and he does all he can to protect her from basically everyone including the Winchesters. And he promises he will take care of Jack and then. Then he is killed by Lucifer (shattered at the altar of Winchester because he gets involved in the Apocalypse World because of them while having built something for himself with Kelly and Jack BUT still not having properly processed all his previous trauma).

Okay, so fast forward: Cas is woken up by Jack in the Empty. He is of course confused and stuff (we still don’t know what was he dreaming about all this time he spent there now that we know this is a place where angels and demons dream about their mistakes and regrets <- fanfiction gap #1). He wakes up, he is ‘greeted’ by the Empty and one of the first things he says is that he has to go back because Sam and Dean need him.

This is his first, automatic thought - I (probably) don’t want to go back, but Sam and Dean need me so I have to, I don’t want to go back for myself because I never wanted to since Purgatory but I know I have to. He doesn’t even think about Jack in this moment. I... maybe it is a stretch but I sense a kind of fear in these words. It’s like he thinks: ‘if I had the chance to come back and chose not to come back from selfish reasons then if the Winchesters ever find out about this they will be angry at me’. But I might be reading too much into this, but on the other hand Jesus fucking Christ this is precisely what happened in Purgatory. He chose to stay although he had a chance to return and the effect was Dean being mad at him. Talk about trauma--

Then the Empty (who was in Cas’ mind) voices his biggest fears:

'I know who you love, I know what you fear. There is nothing for you back there. Wouldn't you rather be a fond memory than a constant festering disappointment?'

There is a lot to unpack here because this is the Empty’s (who, as stated at the beginning can be read as a manifestation of not only death but also Cas’ depression and self-worth issues) reaction to Cas saying that Sam and Dean need him. She says: uh oh you’re wrong<3 I know who you love, what you fear, the is nothing there for you, sweetie. Essentially: they don’t need you. No one needs you or wants you there. They are better off without you. Wouldn’t you rather be a fond memory (of actually being useful as in: saving Dean from hell, helping to stop the Apocalypse, helping to fight the Leviathans) than a disappointment (failing powers, makes mistake after a mistake, chooses to protect the unborn Antichrist rather than killing him before he’s born - and not to make this whole thing worse but this is what Dean has the audacity to say to Cas in 15x03: why if something goes wrong it always seem to be you).

I will now allow myself for some privacy, because I am a person who dealt with these kind of thoughts in my head for years, these are straight up suicidal thoughts: no one needs you, no one wants you, you are a disappointment and if you die you will be fondly remembered, everyone is better off without you. And we know Cas was suicidal because he literally tells us in 8x08 and we have no proof that he somehow got rid of these thoughts, ever. If anything, they were always there, present, if not growing. Thoughts like that don’t just disappear. Please remember one more time what was happening to Cas in seasons 8-11. He wasn’t healing. He was getting worse, while all this time managing to keep his head above water for someone else, while the guilt was rising and rising.

If the Empty represents all his issues: depression, suicidal thoughts, guilt, self-hate, lack of self-worth, and what she offers is: eternal sleep. Maybe not entirely peaceful sleep, but sleep nevertheless, no consequences, no facing your fears, no dealing with anything, an escape, sleep -

And she prompts him to stop fighting, to go back to sleep because there is nothing to fight for (now the symbolism of him being waken up by JACK who was his new found purpose just before he got killed), but she makes a mistake to confront his thoughts and fears with him. She makes a mistake of taking a ‘physical’ form, putting on his face and voice his fears. And Cas is a warrior and he kind of hates himself, so his instinct was to fight. Of course it was easier not to think about all of these stuff at all, to push it back, to try to forget. But once he was forced to face all of these? He fought back. AND HE WON!!!!!

WHAT A MESSAGE TO SEND RIGHT?!!! You might have all these issues and not want to face them because you feel you will crush under them but look: when you are forced to face them it turns out you are somehow way stronger than them!!! The moment you choose to fight you already won, you are already saved!!! Because ultimately these are your thoughts and this is your mind and you control it, no one else! The moment you decide, you choose, to take control: you win. You are saved because you chose to save yourself because you decided you are worth saving. And the Empty (and everything she represents) immediately gets angry and lets him go, ultimately annoyed because he dared to defy her and she just can’t win with someone who decides he wants to be free. WHAT. 👏🏻 A. 👏🏻 WONDERFUL. 👏🏻 MESSAGE. 👏🏻

So... Having said all that. There is only one thing left: I have NO IDEA. NO IDEA. HOW HE FOUND THE STRENGTH. TO STAND UP AND SAY THIS:

I'm already saved. You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for... ever. For eternity.

A FUCKING ICON. STRONGEST CHARACTER EVER. YOUR FAVE COULD NEVER--

#ask #mutuals #cas #castiel meta #cas meta #the empty #long post #theselfhatingangelofthursday

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bellatrixxue · 4 years ago

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Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67 @amazingiam00 @kalliravenne @indecisive20something @2musiclover2 @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock @wingedcatninja @arvit

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue

#xue's supernatural dare #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #sam winchester #jared paladecki #text #i had a really bad day today with my constant pain and aching from the chemo #but this really brought genuine smiles to my face!#what a good show #what a wonderful show #how the FUCK did they fuck it up later #well #i guess i'll find out when i get there lmao

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percywinchester27 · 4 years ago

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A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-17)

Word count: 5.3K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: ANGST, miscarriage, accident, graphic descriptions of blood, detailed/spoilery warnings in the tags.

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: Here it is guys, finally. I know most of you already know what’s going to happen but please please heed the warnings. If you have triggers please check the tags, I’ll put in everything I can think of including the spoilery warnings. I had a hard time writing this, so here’s to hoping I managed to convey the emotions.

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23. You da best <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

24th April 2009

“I’ll be fine, really,” you said on the phone. “It’s only seven.”

On the other end Jo sighed. “Y/N, it’s starting to rain again, and it’s getting really dark outside.”

“Weird that it’s already raining in April,” you murmured. “I’m just around the bend of Clinton lake.”

“Why did you even leave the house?”

It was Sam’s birthday in just a little over a week. You really wanted to get him something. Sitting at home wasn’t giving you any ideas, so you had decided to go around to the other side of the big lake and try your luck at the engraving shop there. It had worked and you ended up placing an order for an engraved pen. It was a simple black fountain pen, part of which was made in obsidian, so your message could be engraved. Even if Sam used it regularly, it was supposed to be very durable and you were extremely pleased. You were also particularly proud of the quote you had picked. It wasn’t romantic in any way, but you had heard Sam read it out to you from your favourite book many times in that lovely voice of his.

You hoped Sam would carry the pen to work. Things were hard for him in New York right now, living by himself. He wouldn’t tell you if he ever had troubles at work, but you knew enough of the profession to know that it was ruthless, and sometimes hard. You couldn’t be there with him to tell him that things would be alright. Maybe if he looked down at the pen, the quote would remind him of that.

“Y/N? A storm’s about to hit that side, ” Jo fretted, slightly frustrated on the line. “Are you listening?”

“Yes,” you said, peering into the horizon just beyond the lake, beyond the pitter patter on the glass. It really was getting dark. “I’ll be home in a few minutes. In fact, I’ll come over directly to your place. I think Dean could use another apple pie.”

“No!” Jo shouted. “You go to your house.”

“Oh-kay.” Not suspicious at all. “What’re you not telling me?”

“Nothing!”

Jo’s voice was too high to be believable. Either way, it wasn’t the best idea to stay out any longer.

“I’m parked at a shoulder,” you told her. “I’m gonna hang up on you so I can get back on the road.

“Okay. Drive carefully.”

“See ya in fifteen,” you grinned as you cut the call on her vague protests. She really did want you to not visit her. Maybe she was throwing you that surprise baby shower afterall.

“Looks like you and I have to pretend to be surprised, Chirp,” you muttered.

Slowly, you reversed the car and eased it back onto the road, thinking about how cold it seemed to suddenly feel. Maybe you should turn the heat up further.

It came out of nowhere. The blow. One minute you were sliding the car onto the road, next minute you were sinking, drowning, the shock not even letting you register what had happened. There was a bright, blinding yellow light- straight in your eyes at first, from a direction it shouldn’t have been coming from. The confusion just spiraled when the road which should have been beneath you was over your head, and then you were spinning out of control. You closed your eyes, unable to understand what was happening till the water hit. Then you started thrashing, trying to get the seat belt to loosen, to get yourself out of the vehicle, but even with all the whipping around, you couldn’t free yourself. The water rose higher and higher in the darkness as you struggled to strain your neck to rise above it… until you couldn’t.

Seconds… then your throat was hurting. No- it was burning. The world was turning upside down and you were in a torrent of water. Frantically, you tried to unbuckle yourself, but your swollen middle made it hard. That thought cleared your head more than anything else and you doubled, tripled your efforts to get out, finally managing to free yourself of the seat belt and open the door. For all your effort, it wasn’t soon enough because the van rolled in the dark water and hit something, plummeting you to the side, against what could only be jagged metal and pieces of glass.

You wanted more than anything to just go to sleep now. Maybe then the cold will seize and so would the sting. Everything was stinging. The cold water was biting into your skin like a thousand knives and the cold was so cold it burned, it set you on fire. But the shards, they were a different kind of ripping, tearing- outside on your skin and… inside.

No. You opened your eyes, and with every last ounce of strength, made your limbs move. There was pain. You knew it deep down that you were in a lot of pain, though right now you couldn’t feel anything beyond the haze in your brain and the ice under your skin. The burning in the throat was dulling, but you used it to remain conscious, to propel yourself up, because there was something infinitely more important in this world than your life. You had to force yourself to swim to protect that thing.

The ripping once more and a stab… It was gut wrenching to keep pushing the water down with your hands, the consciousness was slipping again. Another convulsive spasm from the inside now… to the point where you felt something other than the cold… you felt it, you felt the pain, primal and devastating inside of you. The blackness overwhelmed you.

Something was patting your face and then something soft was on your lips. Soft and warm.

“Jesus Christ,” a voice hissed, desperate, then shouted away from you, “She’s not responding! Jesus!”

“Stop with that, you moron,” another scared, deeper voice in the distance yelled. “Get the water out.”

“I-I can’t… I can’t roll her over on the stomach. She’s… she’s… Fuck.”

“Press her chest. We’ve got to do something till the ambulance comes. Slap her face again.”

pat pat pat.

The rain was thudding hard around you, hitting your face like arrows.

“Fuck, I can’t,” the first voice answered. “Her lips are blue and all this blood. Shit!”

“She’s not even shivering.” The other deep voice cursed. “Move aside, you idiot.” A different set of hands replaced the ones on you.

Pumps on your chest and then something on her lips again.

The first man, far away now, was shouting. “She’s gonna die… she’s gonna die… and they’ll think we did it. That bastard drove off and you- you had to stop driving.”

The voice near you growled in frustration. “Oh, fuck off!” He said urgently in your ears. “C’mon dammit! Keep fighting.” The pumping continued, but you didn’t fight to live. You knew it in your frozen bones that the reason you had been fighting for was gone. It was in the blood seeping from your middle, the blood rapidly staining your already drenched pants. It was in the glass and metal sticking out of your body. It was in the unbearable pain and the bone crushing cold, it was in the scared and defeated voices over you… he was gone.

Pump. Pump. Pump.

“C’mon! Fight!”

You fought, yes. But not to live. You fought to go under, to never resurface ever again. What was the point?

“Check her wallet,” the man over you commanded. “She’s married. See if you can get a hold of the husband.”

Sam.

“I can feel a beat. Fuck. Thank God.”

The tensed, shrill voice yelled from far away. “I think I hear the ambulance.”

“You hear that?” The voice, soft now commanded. “Stay with me!”

You heard it… you heard the siren… farther and then closer. The pain felt sharper now, agonising like hellfire burning in your veins. More voices, more pain… and then nothing.

***************************

26th April 2008

“Sam?”

“Sam, seriously. If you stop responding, I’ll slap an answer out of you. I swear I will.”

He looked up at the girl standing over him. Jo was scowling down at him, her voice high pitched and reedy.

“You need to eat something.”

He said nothing.

She grabbed him by the shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle. “Are you even listening to me?” Jo might have tried to shake him, he didn’t notice it. “Mom’s sent some food.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

Jo’s body relaxed just a bit at his response. At least she had gotten one. He felt her take a seat next to him, without letting go of his shoulder.

“You’re not helping her by starving yourself,” she said. “You think Y/N would want you to torture yourself like this?”

“I wouldn’t know what Y/N would want now, would I?” His voice sounded muted, dead, even to his own ears.

She sighed. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. The baby… Y/N…. you couldn’t have done anything.”

There’s nothing you could’ve done.

They were only words. His brother had said them, and Jo and Ellen; so many times that they had lost meaning to Sam now. Not that they had ever held any to begin with.

“Why’re you doing this to me, Jo?” He asked flatly, without even the intention of an inflection.

She took a deep breath. “Because Dean’s losing it, Sam. He’s fucking losing it seeing you like this. I’ve never seen him look this… this…” Her hands flailed in the air. “Crazed! He’s blaming himself for everything.”

For the first time, he turned to look at her and actually see her. Jo’s hair was coming out of the plait that she hadn’t combed out of for almost two days. Her face was grimy and blotched. Her eyes were red and nose shiny. She looked on the verge of tears still.

“It’s not Dean’s fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” she yelled, exasperated,

“I should have been with her! Maybe then she wouldn’t have gone out.”

“It was a perfectly good day to drive. She was barely even out of town and it wasn’t her fault that a trailer doing ninety miles decided to make a bend on the wrong side of the road.”

Sam flinched.

The hand on his shoulder slid down and wrapped around his waist. “It was a freak accident. I know you’re hurting, Sam. I have to be blind to not see what this is doing to you, but think about what you’ll do to Y/N if she sees you like this.”

“I thought I lost her, too,” Sam whispered. “The way she looked.” A shudder ran through his body and Jo threw her other arm around him, as if to protect him, as if she could shield him from what had passed and what was to come.

Sam had stayed with Y/N as long as they would let him. However, no one was allowed in the ICU, so he was forced to remain in the waiting area outside. Be that as it might, no one had been able to move him from here since that wretched phone call.

It felt like eons ago- Sam had paced the living room in their home impatiently, waiting for Y/N to come back from wherever she had driven to. Jo had arranged for a surprise baby shower, and to add to it, Sam had flown in a day early. It was a wonder to see her look of sheer joy each time Y/N found him home! He had spent the hour fixing that one odd joint in the crib, and then another trying to get the rainbow mural stuck on the wall opposite to the crib. Y/N would be so proud. He had been congratulating himself when the shrill ring of the phone interrupted his reverie. The phone call that had changed everything.

“Y/N’s tough, Sam,” Jo whispered in his ears. “You heard the doctor, right? He said no one that far gone had managed to pull through all in one piece. She had a cardiac arrest from the hypothermia and she’s still with us.” Jo rubbed soothing circles into his back. “Shhh… it’ll be alright. She’s tougher than she looks, that one.”

“I don’t know how to tell her… how to face her.” Only when Sam’s voice broke did he realise that he was already crying. “I can’t see her in pain, Jo. It will kill me.”

“No, it won’t. You need to let others in. Let people help you first, so you can be there for her tomorrow. If you let yourself go to pieces, who’s she gonna turn to?”

Sam simply shook his head as the tears overwhelmed him. He knew he couldn’t stay weak, couldn’t afford to be fragile… especially not now.

Someone cleared their throat and Jo pulled back to reveal the nurse standing in the hallway. “Mrs. Winchester just regained consciousness.”

************

“Y/N, Darling.”

Sam’s voice. The only sound that could mean anything.

“You said she was awake,” he spoke, voice sounding farther.

“She is…” said another doubtful voice. A woman’s voice. “At least she was.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, can you hear me?”

His voice was dim and strained. You didn’t need to open your eyes to see the expression on his face.

“Doctor,” he said, frantic now. “What’s wrong with her?”

Cool hand pressed against your wrist, then another lightly prodded at your eyelid, trying to pry them open. You turned your head to the side, not willing to look.

There was a sharp intake of breath. “Darling?”

“Mr. Winchester, could I please request you step outside while I examine her?”

There was a pause, then the door opened and closed.

“Mrs. Winchester, my name’s Richard Hawke and I’m your doctor. Could you please turn your head this way?”

You did.

Against your hazy vision, much couldn’t be made out about Dr. Hawke except his kind eyes. “How’re you feeling? Is there any pain?”

You shook your head. Physically, you only felt numb. Your throat felt scorched, but that pain was welcoming. You needed it to feel something.

“Do you remember what happened?”

One dip your head.

Dr. Hawke looked at you for a long moment. “You’ve been through one hell of a trauma, Mrs. Winchester. It’s a miracle that you survived.” He gave you a compassionate smile.

You knew what his words really meant. ‘Be grateful that, at least, you survived.’

He studied the file he was holding, then said. “We had to perform a surgery when they brought you in. Thankfully, there are no fractures, just deep lacerations on your stomach, back and chest. To let you heal from the surgery and for the stitches to hold, we had to keep you under sedation for over a day and half.”

Dr. Hawke waited for you to give a sign that you understood, when he didn’t get one, he continued. “You need complete bed rest for a couple of days. That means no moving around or even standing for too long. If you’re in pain, please immediately call for the nurse.” His voice softened. “Do you want me to send your husband in?”

You looked him right in the eyes and very deliberately shook your head.

He nodded and you closed your eyes, not wanting to see a world where your baby would never exist.

***************************

30th April 2008

“Y/N, do you want to take a walk?” Jo asked, trying to make her voice bright. “The doctor said you need to move around a bit, sweetie.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Dean added, in the same tone. “There’s actually sun outside today. No more gloomy, rainy weather.”

Sam felt himself stiffen and Dean shot him a wary glance. No one had mentioned rain in front of her. Their careful exchange was lost on Y/N though, just like everything else had been up until now. For all they knew, she hadn’t heard a word of the conversation. Her gaze was fixed, unseeing on the blinders of the window, through which some of the sunlight that Dean was talking about trickled in. The expression on her face was blank, exactly how it had been since she had first opened her eyes.

No one had told Y/N that she had lost the baby… she had already known. Not that she had told anyone that she knew. Hell, she hadn’t spoken a word in the four days since gaining consciousness. But it was just there, in that hollow look, like a blackhole. Each time Sam looked at her, the pit in his stomach would grow deeper, threatening to swallow him whole. His heart, which felt heavy in his chest beat frantically like its beats were numbered. It scared Sam… it made him feel as if the cataclysmic loss wasn’t behind him, rather it was in front, drawing close with every second that Y/N didn’t speak, didn’t look at him.

Forcefully, Sam shook his head, dislodging the thought. He got to his feet and walked over to the window Y/N had been looking towards. Slowly drawing the blinds away from the glass, he let the sunlight flood the room. He turned around to see Y/N closing her eyes.

Over her Dean and Jo exchanged a distraught look, then looked at him. Their expression made Sam realise that he hadn’t been meant to see their exchange.

“Okay, rest up, then,” Dean said, in a low, kind voice. He bent down to kiss Y/N on her forehead. “We’ll be waiting outside.”

Jo ran her fingers through Y/N’s hair, then with one dejected sigh, followed Dean out of the room. It didn’t miss Sam’s attention that his brother gripped her hand tightly on their way out.

Sam took his place on the steel chair next to Y/N’s bed and reached out to take her hand. She didn’t shirk it away like she had for the first two days. Now, it lay there, dead, without any movement. Sam might as well have been holding the hand of a marble statue. Cold and hard. The doctor had said not to touch her skin at first… that it might be painful for her after the hypothermic attack, but even after they were sure that it might have passed, Y/N had recoiled from his touch and it had hurt like the lash of a flaming whip against his raw, exposed skin- her rejection. It had been the only visible reaction she had shown to his presence or even his words at first.

Sam had tried, he knew that much. He had tried with every ounce of his soul to put on a smile and call out to her. He had dried his eyes of the last drop of moisture, rid his expression of the last spasm of pain and smoothened it into a smile for her. If it was the only thing he could do now- bury his pain- he would do it for her. He would do it all. If only he knew that he was getting through to Y/N, if only she would spare him just one glance. When he forced himself in the way of her gaze, she would simply look through him. He could touch her and he could kiss her, but it was showing love to only her inanimate body, not his Y/N. She didn’t seem to be in there.

Bile rose to his mouth each time he skimmed his fingers along her cheek, and not even her eyes blinked. The heat didn’t rise to her cheeks. Nothing happened.

Now, Sam sat next to her, reading out loud, “… Jem finally realized that he had been done in by the oldest lawyer’s trick on record. He waited a respectful distance from the front steps, watched Atticus leave the house and walk toward town. When Atticus was out of earshot Jem yelled after him: “I thought I wanted to be a lawyer but I ain’t so sure now!””

He stopped when the nurse came in with a bowl of soup and placed it on the table next to her bed. “Here’s some soup for you, honey.”

“Thank you,” Sam murmured, placing the copy of To kill a mockingbird on the table.

“You’re welcome,” she said in a pleasant voice, giving Sam a pitying look before exiting the room.

“C’mon, love,” Sam coaxed, helping her into a sitting position. He settled besides her with the bowl in his hand, dipped the spoon into the thick soup and brought the spoon to Y/N’s bruised lips. She didn’t resist as he tipped it into her mouth. She never resisted anything. Sam wished with a yearning that was acute to the point of pain that she would just raise her eyes and look at him. Look and actually see.

His hopeless longing had led him to tilt the spoon sideways and a line of soup dribbled along her chin. Sam hurried to wipe it off with the folded sleeve of his shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N hadn’t even noticed.

Slowly, she finished the soup, one spoon at a time.

“That’s my girl,” Sam encouraged, cleaning the last of it from her lips, and raising a glass of water.

“Do you want to go out?” He asked, trying and failing to keep the despair out of his voice. This time, however, Y/N shook her head and hope, even more painful than the yearning, roared through Sam’s chest. She sometimes reacted to his words, something she never did for anyone else. And that was the one string he had clung to…. one golden string of faith.

“Later, then?” It was there in his voice, too… that same hope.

Slowly she nodded, then turned her head away and closed her eyes again. Sam knew she wanted to be by herself.

He almost bent down to peck her on the forehead, that unsettling fear of impending loss, urging him to do it… but then he thought better of it and stepped outside. When Y/N was ready, she would come out herself. She had said so… she would have to.

In the strangest way, without even having known her, Sam missed his mother. He knew that if she had been around now, he would have hidden his face in her lap and allowed himself to cry to his heart’s content. He loved Karen, and she loved him, too… but it was different with her. She felt like his favourite aunt. Dean had called both Bobby and her to let them know what had happened. They wanted to come over immediately, but one look at Sam’s face had made Dean decline their offer. Sam didn’t think he could pretend to be alright for any more people than he already had to.

Everyone else could afford to show weakness. In fact, they did. Jo had broken down more than once right in front of Y/N, and Dean could clench his fists and grind his teeth in frustration about how unfair this was. Ellen was so defeated, she could hardly even be around Y/N without crying. Sam, however, couldn’t show a flicker of what he truly felt. It didn’t look like she registered most of what was happening around her… but on the off chance that she did, Sam would die a hundred deaths before let her see what the grief was doing to him.

He slowly walked to the seating outside, crumpling on the bench at the corner. How was any of this happening? What deity could have been so cruel as to hurt the purest person to ever breathe? Sam had never gotten over how infinitely good Y/N was. For as long as he had known her, she’d never said one mean thing about anyone. Never. He knew he wouldn’t ever stop marvelling at her goodness. He would marvel as long as he loved her… as long as he lived. And yet, if something this horrifying could happen to her? What hope did the rest of the world have?

There must be no God, Sam decided. There must be no higher power that weighs good and bad in the world, that takes one look at a person and decides how much suffering or happiness they deserved. Because no such entity would be so callous, so stone-hearted to sentence Y/N to this!

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and Sam felt his brother drop into the seat besides him.

“How’s she doing?”

Sam shrugged. “Much the same.”

“Did Bobby ever tell you that I didn’t talk until I was six?”

Sam turned to his brother with what must have been a look of shock.

Dean’s eyes tightened, as he stared straight ahead. “He didn’t? I could swear the old man loved to tell that one.”

“I didn’t know.”

Dean tilted his head. “Well, I didn’t talk for two years after the fire. Honestly, I don’t remember it all that much, but death and trauma does that to a person, I’ve been told.”

“She doesn’t even know the extent of it, Dean,” He gasped, his heart doing that thing again where every breath seemed to labour it.

“Will you love her less for it?”

Sam whipped his head, angry. “Of course not,” he spat. “Nothing would make me love her less!”

Dean sighed tiredly and Sam realised that it had been a rhetorical question. Sam put his face in his hands, speaking into his palms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that something feels essentially broken inside her. And I don’t know how to fix it… fix her. It makes me feel helpless.”

“You’re not a frickin’ miracle man, Sam! And there isn’t a magical solution for this. Sometimes you have to let grief run its course.”

Dean was making sense, Sam knew that… but he also knew Y/N. Better than anyone alive. He was sure of it… the blankness behind her glassy eyes wasn’t the type that complied with sense or logic. It was a feeling in his gut that he couldn’t explain- not even to Dean, that there was something terribly wrong with her. That it wasn’t simply grief holding her vacant, it was something incomprehensibly beyond that.

“I know you want to be there for her,” Dean said, quieter now. “I know you’re worried, but you’re grieving, too, man. You lost your kid.” His voice broke. “That’s not something you can sweep under the rug.”

Sam bit back the ‘watch me.’

He felt too tired, too weary and too scared.

“How am I going to tell her?” He whispered, staring at the floor in horror. “How am I ever going to tell her that she can’t be a mother again? That they had to remove parts of her body because they were too damaged, crushed? She’ll lose it, Dean. You don’t know how much she loved Ch- Ch… “ He choked up… The name just wouldn’t come out. “It was her dream to have her own family.”

She’d whispered it at night, in a awed, hushed voice, under soft sheets about how she had never really had a family. Just Gran and her- two souls shouldering the burden of memories of people they would never see again. Is that what Y/N would think when she found out? That she and Sam would become two such souls?

“She’s coming home tomorrow, right?” Dean said. “We’ll do everything we can to make it okay. With time…”

Even now, with his brother’s hand on his shoulders and his words in the air, Sam knew that this was not the type of grief he would ever get over. No amount of time could bury the dreams and expectations of the little life they had both yearned for. Sam knew that someday it might get easier to bear, even if it seemed impossible right now. However, it would never truly go away.

With a fierce resolution, he vowed to love Y/N twice as hard! He would do whatever it took to get that smile back on her face, the light back in her eyes. He knew it in the depth of his being that if they were going to make it through this, he had to figure out a way to get her back first.

What Sam didn’t know was that he wouldn’t get the chance. What he didn’t see was the slight figure, standing at the far corner, behind the door, fingers clutching the frame till the knuckles strained. If he had turned, Sam would have known that Y/N had listened to him after all. She had come out for a walk… seen him slumped over in agony and heard his words of anguish.

She had heard other things in the short nineteen years of her life. Whispers had followed her everywhere since her parents had died in the car crash. Awful words…

“… Her parents didn’t even live to see her sixth birthday…”

“… It starts before that. I heard she wasn’t even three months old when poor Gertrude’s husband passed away…”

“… Girl’s a jinx if I saw any… No survivors… ”

Sam had heard some of it at her Gran’s funeral, and it had boiled his blood. But he hadn’t dreamed, hadn’t estimated for how long Y/N had heard them, how word by word, piece by piece the rumours had lodged themselves in her mind. They had been lost in the recent bout of happiness, but very much there, waiting to cut her open the moment she tripped. She’d never spoken of them to him, afraid that she might really jinx her luck… terrified, in fact. Now she knew that you couldn’t jinx what you didn’t have.

“…How am I ever going to tell her that she can’t be a mother again.,.”

Sam didn’t see her turn around. For now he let his brother hold him, feel some of the grief ebb away from him into the vastness of his brother’s love. Sure, Sam didn’t have a mother, and he might miss the idea of having her, but he hadn’t ever missed that unconditional love. Dean was there, always had been and always would be.

Sam would need his brother more than ever tomorrow, when in the ten minutes that it took him to park his car in front of the entrance, the private room where his wife had stayed would be deserted. He would shout her name till his throat was sore, and lose his mind trying to look for her. There would be a missing person report filed which would soon be disposed off, because CCTV grab from the Hospital cameras would show her walking out by herself with the bag that they had brought for her. It had some of her clothes, her wallet recovered after the accident with her identity proofs. There was nothing left behind, not the book, not the brush, not even a note. She had left willingly and without a word.

They wouldn’t believe it, though… He, Dean, Jo and Ellen would all get into their cars and drive for a day and a half, checking all hotels, bus stops, gathering spots, showing her picture to see if anyone recognised her and despairing when no one did. Sam would push himself into a craze over finding his wife, the closest he would come to insanity.

When two days later- having driven almost across two states into Texas- Sam would return home, he’d find the gift delivered to him on the correct date- 2nd May. An etched, black obsidian fountain pen, wrapped in fine silk; the note over it proudly proclaiming: “With undying love- Y/N Winchester.”

The etched inscription on the pen would be seared into his soul:

It’s not time to worry yet - Atticus Finch

Sam didn’t know any of it. For now, he was simply allowing himself to be comforted by his big brother. Surely finding some peace again wouldn’t be that impossible, right? Surely this agony would have to end sooner or later. Everything seemed possible in Dean’s arms.

***************************

A/N 2: Not gonna lie, this chapter was VERY hard to write. I rewrote it twice and edited it thrice. I can only hope that I did justice to their pain and suffering. This is the first time I’ve ever written something so irreversible in a series… and boy, was it painful!

Anyway, we can finally return to happier times! Next chapter takes us back to a very hungover Y/N! Who’s excited?

I’ll try to post the chapter early. You guys can brush up on Part 12 for hints and clues about what is coming ;)

The feedback is literally what’s keeping this story going right now. My immense thanks to all you lovely people who take the time out to be SO kind to me. I love you <3

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@gabavaldman @im-a-light-child @cosicas-cuquis @bllyjianne @hoboal87 @i-is-for-inspiring @daughterleftbehind @wackiekebab @mylovelydame21 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @superbadassnatural @babypink224221 @badlittlehabit99 @anathewierdo @sams-bubblegum-bitch @fandomoverdose666 @superstarmarvel @atc74 @aiofheavenandhell @rebel-author-chick @death-unbecomes-you @cookiechipdough @kbl1313 @linki-locks11 @miss-nerd95 @sunflowers-n-rocknroll @stoneyggirl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @niyahgray @traceyaudette @blueaura @awfulmoons

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finalfrontierpioneer · 4 years ago

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2020 Fic Recs

Okay, I did a fic rec list last year for 2019, and nobody asked for this, but you know what, I��m gonna do another one. Really the only thing I wanna look back on about 2020 is the fic- bc damn there were some good ones!

Same as last year, these are fics that were completed in 2020. (So no in-progress fics here)

So here goes, 20 fic recs for 2020, in no particular order! And full disclosure, these are all totally different ratings/pairings/whatever.

I tried to tag all the authors who had tumblrs, but i probably missed some, and some of them aren’t actually working but hey! the username is there!

Some stucky bc of course

Sharpened Claws by tragicama (Explicit)

Steve Rogers has a unique talent of getting himself into danger. As one of New York City’s best homicide detectives, it isn’t easy to ignore the constant call of trouble and gore. At least, that’s what he tries to tell his overprotective and brooding boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, even if he knows it might be a lie.

Bucky is dangerous, gorgeous. . .and a werewolf. As the Alpha of New York City, he is easily considered the most powerful being in the world. But when Bucky begins to lose his control over his shift, he slowly becomes aware of a bond that sends him reeling, and one he’d never thought possible.

But everything is not as it seems. After a homicide case unleashes a sequence of events that neither Steve nor Bucky are prepared for, they soon find themselves entangled with a danger that threatens to rip them apart. With the help of Steve’s partner and best friend, Sam, Bucky and Steve navigate a dark web of pack politics, masquerade balls, and a crash course in what it means to be a pack, even as a greater danger looms. And one that might succeed in ripping them apart.

These Happy Gilded Years by crinklefries @spacerenegades, nalonzoo (Teen)

Steve Rogers, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and mostly happy disposition, had lived twenty-three years in the world with very little to distress or vex him.

( Steve is wealthy and and charming, with good humor and good temper, doted upon by his mother and the highest of New York Society, with no one to ever criticize or say the word no to him. Well, other than Bucky. But he doesn't count.

He is also warm and friendly and has a talent for matchmaking. Or so he thinks. Actually, he's kind of terrible at it.

Importantly, Steve will definitely never fall in love or marry, himself. He tells everyone this, repeatedly. Well anyway, we'll see about that. )

Jane Austen's Emma, but a little gayer, set in 1890s Gilded Era New York City

Demon Seed by SucculentHyena (Mature)

[Transcript 00:11:48]

MS: You were with him the most throughout the course of events, both before and after. Your account could shed light on something we may have missed.

JB: What difference will that make?

MS: It could make all the difference. Captain Rogers’ case is unprecedented, he’s the most intact victim we’ve ever recovered-

JB: [laughing] You call that intact?

A Noble Steed by alby_mangroves @albymangroves or @artgroves, leveragehunters (Teen)

"You say the Warhorse showed up last night," Sam said in tones of profound doubt.

"Yeah," Steve replied.

"The Warhorse. The Warhorse of legend. Daelland's Warhorse."

"The same as the one on the back of the transit card, yes."

"And he appeared in your living room?"

Steve eyed the Warhorse, very large and very black and giving him a dubious look out of his strange grey eyes. "He's standing in it right now."

"Uh huh," Sam said.

"Hey, I'm not any happier about it than you are."

* * *

Steve's mom had left Daelland long before he was born, following her heart to New York, but she'd raised him on stories of its famous Warhorse. Before she died, he'd promised he'd go back and learn the country she'd come from.

That was why he was in Daelland. Not so Daelland's legendary Warhorse could appear in his living room. But planned or not that's what had happened—now Steve had to figure out what to do about it.

a hat, a horse (a Hyundai), and the will to ride by elkane @elkane, synonym4life @synonym-for-life (Explicit)

After Steve and Bucky rescue their pals from the Raft prison, they decide to dig deeper into Zemo’s involvement in the UN headquarters’ bombing which sends them on a backpacking trip across select European countries. Steve and Bucky believe this is a story about their mission. Scott Lang and Sam Wilson, who join them halfway through, believe it’s a story about their Eurotrip (and they’re probably right). This writer, however, has been waiting to tell you that the fic’s true mission is Steve and Bucky missioning towards missionary.

Follow them on their journey across Europe in tiny cars, packed subway trains and even on skis as they tumble down the Swiss Alps (in a fun way this time!), all the while reigniting untold feelings of the past through inappropriate sexual encounters and terrible communication skills.

someday at christmas (there’ll be no wars) by stevebuckiest @stevebuckyinc (not rated)

A mission on Christmas. Not even on Christmas, technically. A mission after Christmas which means he and Steve and the Howlies will be trekking through the tundra towards possible death on what used to be Bucky’s favorite day of the year. Jesus Christ.

(alternatively: bucky and steve try to make the best of a shitty situation)

the cabin by natalie_nebula (Explicit)

It felt like he… It felt like they were always so close. Everything seemed like it was under control. He remembers hearing Wanda’s voice, seeing a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He remembers yelling something back at her, telling her to stop, to not come any closer. He remembers a bright flash, then a boom, and ringing in his ears. He remembers a black blur, and hands on his back, around his waist, then—darkness…

After the explosion in Lagos, Steve wakes up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and all he knows is that Bucky's the one who brought him there. While Sam, Nat, and the other Avengers try to figure out what happened to their friend, Steve takes the time away to heal—both his relationship with Bucky, and with himself. My cozy, romantic, and introspective Civil War rewrite.

Every Feeling by Nestri (Explicit)

Steve completely surprises Bucky with a visit, scent thick with heat. The Alpha keeps his hands to himself until Steve makes it clear he doesn't want him to.

Halbarry!

A Speedster and a Space Cop get into a Car by ChocolateTeapots @chocolateteapotsvis (Teen)

Hal and Barry embark on their most perilous mission yet: picking Wally up from the airport.

For Halbarry Week, Day 3: First Times “And you just called me Barry, genius”

Crosswind by Cinderstrato (Explicit)

Hal had collected plenty of regrets over the years. What was the weight of one more?

Just A Mark by the_butler @the-butler-fanstuff (Mature)

“What a nerd.”

Barry had been haunted by these words all his life, seeing as they were his soulmate’s mark. It came out during puberty, just like everyone else’s, but by then he was already well on the way to being a ‘nerd’ so to speak. He wasn’t just some guy claiming to be nerd because he was into Dungeons and Dragons or anime, oh no. He was a bona fide science nerd- went to interstate science fairs and competitions even.

—————(Originally a one-shot, now continued)——————

Barry Allen was working at the forensics lab of Central City PD when it waltzes the new transfer from Coast City, Detective Hal Jordan, not just into the lab but also into his life. There’s the matter of them being soulmates- but Barry is unconvinced. Science tells him there’s a likely chance that they’re just platonic soulmates, so Hal suggests an experiment of sorts: they go on three dates, and then decide whether or not they’re just platonic, or something more.

Tired by ceelolights @ceeloilights (Gen)

Hal comes home to Barry still working late into the night.

Last but most certainly not least, Jeronica:

The long way round to heaven by Bearfacedcheek (Mature)

“This could screw everything up. Jesus why couldn’t you just, fucking not?”

“I did just fucking not Jughead,” she retorts hotly. “I’ve been not for months. No one was ever supposed to know, least of all you. So, don’t blame me for what you saw when you invaded a private moment.”

“Oh, my bad Veronica,” sarcasm, his most comfortable armour, wraps itself around his words. “Did my near-death experience compromised your privacy? I’m sorry that my spirit took an astral fucking walk out of my almost corpse and y-”

“Don’t,” she gasps. Her hand flies to her mouth and it trembles visibly as she draws it away. “Don’t say that. Jesus Jughead we almost lost you.”

sadder, badder, cooler by thefudge @thefudge (Teen)

AU. Just who is Veronica's mysterious new husband? (based on season 5 spoilers)

all i’ll ever need is you by whatacoolkid @whatacoolkid (Teen)

jughead and veronica but make it ✨christmas✨

destined to be forgotten by bothromeoandjuliet @kindnessinpain2000 (Teen)

There are plenty of broken things in Riverdale - broken families, broken trust, broken hearts - but in the middle stands the two most broken things of all, Veronica Lodge and Forsythe 'Jughead' Jones.

(Jughead and Veronica learn about the Barchie kiss - this is the aftermath)

I Really (Don’t) Know What I Want by Bella_Dahlia @bella-dahlia (Mature)

There were many potential disasters to befall an average weirdo high school student; when one had an active imagination and a love for John Hughes films, as Jughead Jones did, you sort of assumed you had foresaw the possibilities. Plus, after solving a sordid murder and joining a gang, he really thought he gone through his fair share of teenaged trauma.

Having to fake a relationship to save his best friend from dedicating his life to a mafia and getting punched repeatedly in the process definitely had not crossed his mind before now.

——————————————

Or, Jughead and Veronica don’t really know what they’ve gotten themselves into.

all the lovers with no time for me by Krewlak (Mature)

jeroncia goes to stonewall. that's it. that's the fic.

call it what you want to by an_expensive_imagination (Teen)

“First things first,” Veronica says, reaching up to slide the ever-present gray beanie off his head, “no beanies in college.”

And here’s a one off random spideypool:

Shooting For Your Heart by X_Gon_Give_It (Teen)

“In my defense, I didn’t expect you to get hurt.”

“And I didn’t expect to be run out of town, yet here we are.”

He went suddenly stiff, “Wait...you were run out of town?”

“As if you didn’t know,” Peter grumbled, but when he looked up he did a double-take at Wade's confused expression. “Almighty, you really don’t know, do you?” he snapped the drawer shut, “Well, after that little fiasco by Two-Stone Canyon, a little rumor spread that me and you were in cahoots. The rumor got some ground and it turned the whole town against me. I was run out before I could defend my case. Why'dya think I was out there the other night to begin with?”

<><><><><><>

When Peter Parker, a deputy known as Webslinger, gets accused of working with the West's deadliest outlaw he finds himself on the run from the people he once trusted. In an effort to prove his innocence, he finds himself captured by the very outlaw tarnishing his name.

#fic recs #stucky #jeronica #halbarry #2020 fic recs

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saventhhaven · 4 years ago

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Only You - Chapter 11

Title: Coming Clean

Summary: When a man who left the reader six years ago suddenly reappears on her doorstep, she does everything she can to stop herself from falling in love with him all over again. Little does she know that his seemingly brief return will open an entirely new chapter for both of them.

Only You Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Tags: protective!mom, paranoid!reader, witch, fluff, emotions, smut

Word Count: 4,861

A/N: I just want to say that this chapter right here is the moment that inspired this entire series. I put my heart and soul into this one, and it would really mean everything to me to hear back from you guys :) also, this whole series is based off of Foreigner’s I Want to Know What Love Is, so I recommend listening to that while reading this specific chapter

(Gif not mine)

Despite the warmth radiating from Sam and Dean, a chill ran down your spine in a prickly wave. According to the time stamp attached to the photo, this moment dated back to 1864, the founding of your hometown. You shook your head, numb. How was this even possible? When Sam had told you that witches were capable of prolonging their lives, you didn't want to believe it. But now that you had seen it for yourself, you had no choice but to accept it. As the woman's dark eyes stared back at you from behind Sam's laptop screen, fear rooted itself deep in the pit of your stomach as you came to several realizations. She had had over a century to practice her craft, and you were positive that she knew this town better than you ever could. In all likelihood... you really didn't stand a chance.

Dean's hand came down gently on your shoulder, chasing away some of the cold that had crept back up. You tore your eyes from the screen. Both the Winchesters and your mother were looking at you with their eyebrows raised, awaiting a response to a question you hadn't heard.

"Sorry," you said softly. "What?" Sam bobbed his head at the worn picture he had pulled up from the museum's website.

"Is that her?" he asked with practiced patience. You had seen him do this once before a long time ago, but you never thought that you would be on the receiving end of these questions. You swallowed past the lump in your throat. Now was not the time to lose your cool.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's definitely her." Dean leaned in to scrutinize the screen, his forehead crinkling from the concentration. You knew that expression. He could read you like a book, but knowing someone so well was a two-way street. Something wasn't right, and you could tell by the look in his eyes.

"Hold on a second." The three of you watched Dean intently as you waited for him to fit whatever puzzle pieces he had together. Suddenly, a look of realization dawned on him, and he pointed to the woman next to your witch. He turned to Sam. "She look familiar to you?" Dean asked. At first, the younger Winchester shook his head, but then the same look of understanding graced his features.

"No way," he breathed. "You don't think-"

"I don't know," the elder brother cut him off. "Does it give names?" You glanced over at your mother, who furrowed her brows in question. Reaching over to take her hand, you gave it a small squeeze in response, granting her what you were hoping was a reassuring smile. To be frank, you were just in the dark as she was.

"Hey, guys?" you piped up. "Do you mind filling us in here?" Your words fell on deaf ears as the men scanned through a list of names under the picture. After a few more moments of torturous waiting, Dean swore.

"Son of a bitch."

"What? What's going on?" Dean didn't reply, running a hand through his hair anxiously as he stood, pacing. You turned to the other Winchester for an answer. "Sam?" He let out a whoosh of air, and you could tell by the way he did that he hadn't realized he had been holding it in. Sam pointed at the screen, his finger hovering over the raven-haired woman who had been haunting you.

"That," he began, "is Isobel Gray." After weeks of dead-ends and searching, you finally had a name. That was supposed to be a good thing... wasn't it? But the worry creasing Sam's forehead told you otherwise.

"So, why are you and Dean all wigged out over her?" you asked, bobbing your head at the other woman. "What's the big deal?" He opened and closed his mouth several times as he searched for the right words.

"That's Emilia," Dean put in, coming back over to you. "Emilia Gray." Two words. Those two words were all it took, and the air was pulled from your lungs by some unseeable, irresistible force. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Dean's arm for support.

"No." Your voice came out in a squeak. "No, no, no, but that's-"

"The witch we hunted six years ago?" Sam filled the blanks for you. "Yeah." How had you not seen it? You had been right there alongside Sam and Dean when they killed her. For Christ's sake, you had watched her die - a horrific memory you knew you would never forget.

"I don't understand." You jolted in surprise, almost having forgotten your mother was there. "I thought you said the three of you killed her."

"We did," you confirmed. "Now it's her daughter who's the problem." Your mother crossed her arms over her chest, thoughtfulness coming across her face.

"That's quite a coincidence," she pointed out with skepticism. Dean nodded his agreement.

"That's what I was thinkin'."

"Do you think she recognized Y/N?" It surprised you how quickly your mom caught on to all of this. Most people would still be trying to wrap their heads around the cruel reality, but not her. She was asking good questions - hunter questions - and you would be lying if you said that didn't worry you. She was already far more involved than you were comfortable with. And her diving headfirst into the investigation with the Winchesters? That was a bit too much for you. As you opened your mouth to voice your concerns, Sam bean to speak.

"If we're lucky, no," he answered your mother's question. "But it seems like all signs may be pointing to yes." You held up a hand for him to stop.

"Wait. Are you telling me that this has all been some sort of... scheme?" You shook your head, disbelievingly. "There is absolutely no way. That means that she could have been planning this for years. Maybe even as soon as you two left town." As Dean sensed your increasing hysteria, he looked over at you in concern.

"Y/N-"

"No," you stated. "It doesn't make sense! You weren't there at the hospital like I was when they brought that kid in. None of you were. The injuries he had? All the blood? You can't fake that! I watched him die. I suppose that wasn't real either, right?"

"Y/N," Sam started, trying to appease your levels of hostility. "That boy did die. Dean and I went to check and make sure his mom didn't have some sort of way to resurrect him. And the car he was in-"

"Sam, don't," Dean warned.

"There was no evidence of another car hitting him like the police report said. The car blew up from the inside," Sam continued, ignoring his brother. "His death wasn't an accident." Dread gripped you tightly in its merciless claws, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut.

"Let me get this straight: six years ago, we killed Emilia Gray. Isobel Gray, Emilia's daughter, is the witch that's after me. And you... you're telling me she murdered her own son to get to me?"

"Yes." You thought you might be sick. "From the looks of it, she has been planning this. For a long time."

"Jesus, Sam, just tell her everything, why don't you?" Dean snapped. Your understanding of the situation clicked into place, and you whirled on him with your eyes narrowed into slits.

"You knew? You knew, and you didn't tell me?" When he went quiet, you had your answer. "How long?" Again, Dean didn't reply. You could sense your mother's and Sam's eyes on you, but you didn't care. "How long have you known?" You enunciated each syllable, your tone dangerous. A cloud of guilt seemed to hang within Dean's silence as he averted his gaze.

"The day after Sam and I got here."

Three weeks. He had known for three fucking weeks and hadn't said a word about it to you. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. This whole time, you had been trying to figure out how to fix the poor communication between the two of you, and he had been keeping secrets. It was infuriating. He came back, he left again. He let his walls down, he got angry out of nowhere. He kissed you, you find out he'd been lying to you. Every time you took a step forward, there was always something waiting to push you two steps back.

The room around you was totally void of sound, waiting for you to say something. But this time, you had nothing to say. You thought about leaving. You wanted to slam the door in Dean's stupid face and go for a drive more than anything, but you still had your mother to think about. If you left now, you would put her in danger. And that was something you would never do. With a shake of your head, you went up the stairs and into your old room, slamming the door shut behind you. You had been expecting him to follow you, but he didn't. Maybe that was for the best. If he tried to explain himself right now, you couldn't be held accountable for what you did to him. You sighed. Things had been complicated before, but never to this extent.

When a knock came from your bedroom door, you crossed your arms with a glare.

"You can come in unless your name is Dean." Probably not your most mature moment, but he was the last person you wanted to see right now. When your mother entered the room, though, you blinked at her in surprise.

"Mom?" The door clicked softly as she closed it and came to sit next to you on the mattress.

"I don't think you should be so hard on him." Shocked, you could only stare at her with wide eyes. Your mother? Taking Dean's side?

"Are you serious right now?" She patted your leg in response.

"There are some things Dean told me that you should know."

Six years ago, your thumb hovered over your phone, a picture of you and Dean lighting up the screen. You knew why he had to leave. The man had an entire world to save. But that didn't make it any easier to watch him drive off into the snowy night. You dabbed at your eyes with your sleeve angrily as tears began to well up again.

"Stupid!" you chided yourself. He had kissed you, said goodbye, and left, and you hadn't said a damn word. There were so many things you should have told him - things you still wanted to tell him - and now you were never going to get the chance. A sob left you clutching at a hole in your chest that you knew wasn't really there. It was official. Your love life was cursed. The witch must have put some sort of hex on you before Sam and Dean killed her. That was the only explanation.

"Y/N." You could have sworn your heart stopped beating. That voice was unmistakable. There was no way he was really here again - he couldn't be. You had watched him get in his car and leave. But yet, when you stood from your couch, whirling around, there he was in all his glory. His green eyes shone with emotion, and his worn, brown leather jacket was dampened from the snow.

"You..." You were speechless. He really was here. Dean showed the object he had clasped in his hand, the small silver key that unlocked your apartment.

"You showed me where you hide the spare key, remember?" You simply stood there, staring at him with a mixture of confusion and awe. "Look," he began, "I've... I've never liked goodbyes, all right? I'm no good at 'em. I don't want to risk you, Y/N. I was trying to keep you safe, but I know it was a dick move to say I hope we never see each other again, so if you want me to-" Drawn out of your shock, you didn't hesitate for another second, yanking him closer by the collar of his jacket. When you pulled his face down to yours, your lips crashed together in a frenzy. Just like that, the hole in your chest was gone. Dean was breathing heavily when the two of you pulled away after a long moment, his forehead resting against yours. He swallowed hard. "You didn't let me finish what I was gonna say."

"I love you," you said seriously. "I can't believe I almost didn't get to say it, but I love you, Dean Winchester." Dean's spearmint breath fanned across your mouth as he stared deeply into your eyes, almost as if he couldn’t believe what you were telling him. He cupped your cheek in his hand and pressed his chapped lips against your forehead with infinite tenderness. You grasped him tightly, taking in his scent of leather, whiskey, and gunpowder.

"That's what I was gonna say, sweetheart."

Hours had passed since your mother had enlightened you on the reasoning behind Dean's actions. Immediately afterward, you had gone back downstairs to face him, but he was gone. According to Sam, he had gone for a drive to "clear his thoughts," which, to be completely honest, pissed you off a little bit. It wasn't so long ago that he had chewed you out about running off without warning, but apparently, those rules didn't apply to him. Typical. So, here you were, sitting in the almost-pitch black living room, in the middle of the night, waiting for Dean to come back. Both Sam and your mom had gone to bed a while ago, but you were still awake. Waiting. What you couldn't get over was the feeling of crippling guilt. Guilt for Dean's reasoning behind leaving, and how cold you had been to him when he returned. All along, it had been to protect you, and you had never known. Your breath caught in your throat, but you forced yourself to work past it.

Just when you were starting to worry that maybe Dean had gone back to the motel rather than here, the front door's handle turned. Moonlight streamed through the doorway, casting shadows across his freckled skin as he quietly came inside.

"Lock the door, will you?" you asked softly. At the sound of your voice, Dean looked over at you in surprise but did as he was told.

"Did you leave it open for me?" Nodding, you stood from the leather armchair. Through all the commotion, you had never thought to give either Winchester a spare key. Your heart pounded nervously in your chest, and you took a deep breath.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean sighed.

"We did this part already, remember?" There was no hiding the exasperation in his voice. "You got all pissed and stormed off." Turning away from you, he made his way toward the staircase. "Goodnight, Y/N." Oh, like hell, he was just going to avoid you.

"Six years ago," you clarified. Dean froze in his tracks. "You left because of a demon, and you didn't say anything. Why?" In any other circumstance, you might've been afraid that he hadn't heard you, based on his lengthy pause. He looked at you from over his shoulder.

"Your mom told you?" You nodded.

"She did." Again, the long pause. Finally, he sighed, gesturing for you to follow him upstairs. Sticking your chin out indignantly, you pushed past him, a silent way of telling him to follow you instead. As you did, you didn't miss the way Dean's lips quirked up ever so slightly. Neither of you said a single word on the way up to your room. Even after the door was shut, you were still quiet for a few moments. "Why didn't you tell me?" you tried again, breaking the silence. "I could have gone with you. I could have helped you."

"Y/N, that's why I didn't tell you," Dean explained. "You would've convinced me to let you come with us, and I couldn't let that happen. If you got hurt, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. If I cut all ties with you, the demon had no way of knowing you even existed. The best way for me to keep you safe was by leaving you." He met your eyes seriously. "You're my weak spot."

"I got hurt anyway," you pointed out. "And there was no demon the second time. So, why did you do the same damn thing?" You weren't expecting this to be so hard, but it was. Reliving all the hurt from the past six years within a single conversation wasn't proving to be easy. You knew this couldn't be easy for him either, but all the long pauses were really starting to piss you off. You had already done enough waiting. "Dean."

"I got scared, okay?" he said. You frowned. He got scared? That was ironic, considering that you had been terrified to fall in love again because of him.

"You-"

"You saw how bad I was hurt," he cut you off. "The last thing I wanted to do was come back and bring up bad memories for you, but I didn't know what else to do. Sam was hours away, at least, and if I went to the hospital..."

"They would've asked too many questions," you finished. Dean nodded.

"Yeah." He reached for your hands, holding them firmly. "And I'm sorry I left again. It's just..." He sighed heavily. "Damn it, Y/N, it really freaked me out. When I skipped town the first time, I had to force myself to stop loving you, and it killed me. I thought after all that time, maybe I had finally gotten my heart to listen to me." Dean shook his head as he allowed himself a half-hearted smile. "Turns out, love ain't somethin' you can turn off." A surprised laugh left your mouth. You, more than anyone, knew exactly what he meant. "But when you opened your door, and I saw you again, looking beautiful as ever, it all came right back." Tears poured down your cheeks, and you swallowed the lump in your throat, casting your eyes downward. After years of torturing yourself, after years of staying up at night and wondering "why," you had your answers. After all this time, you finally understood. Dean didn't leave because he didn't love you - he left because he did.

"I thought you didn't love me anymore," you admitted quietly. You heard Dean let out a soft breath, and he tucked his fingers under your earlobe, swiping away the wetness from your face with his thumb as he rested his palm on your cheek. When you looked up at him again, his green eyes were also misty but glowed with infinite tenderness as he looked at you.

"See, that's the thing, sweetheart." The whole rest of the world seemed to hold its breath as you waited for his next words. "I never stopped."

A fresh wave of emotions came to the surface. Hearing those words felt better than you could have ever imagined. It was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and you could finally breathe again. You grazed light touches down his arm, guiding it to your waist. Dean's hand moved down to trace your jawline with his thumb as you angled your face up. Again, you held your breath, matching his gaze. He was only centimeters away, a silent question in his eyes as he paused to let you come the rest of the way. You smiled to yourself. Always the gentleman.

As you brushed your lips against his, Dean held onto you like he cherished you more than anything in the world - and after that conversation, you knew he did. This was nothing like the kiss the two of you had shared earlier. This time, the underlying heat was replaced with a tenderness that told you just how much he loved you. Dean's hands found home on your hips, and he kneaded his thumbs gently.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, making your heart skip a beat. Those three words were a promise, a secret vow for just you and him.

"I love you too." There had never been a shortage of intensity between you and Dean in the past, but it was different this time.

Dean moved his mouth down to your jaw, and then your neck, tracing his tongue in circles that made you dizzy. It had been years since he had touched you like this, but damn did he still know his way around. His handsome features were slightly silhouetted by the pale moonlight, and you tried hard to commit the picture to your memory. Everything in this moment was nothing shy of perfection, and you never wanted to forget it. You could see the flecks of green and gold that blossomed out from his pupils when you were this close to him.

Moving earnestly, you pushed the flannel fabric down his shoulders, watching as the hint of a smile snuck onto his lips. As much as you wanted to take your time with this, you were eager to touch the smooth, soft skin you had come to know so well. You peeled his shirt off of him as he raised his arms above his head to make it easier. Being with him like this made it feel like no time had gone by at all. Although, the tiniest bit more hair on his chest said otherwise, and you were reminded yet again of all the time that had passed both of you by.

Pressing your palms flat against his warm skin, you smiled. Age had been especially kind to him. When Dean hooked his fingers into the hem of your shirt, he raised his eyebrows wordlessly at you for permission. You nodded and held your arms up in the way he just had, eliciting a light chuckle. For a brief moment, the soft fabric covered your eyes, but when it was gone, Dean was right there, looking down at you in wonder. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and he ghosted his lips over every inch of newly-exposed skin, starting by unhooking your bra to kiss your shoulders and breasts until he was on his knees, unbuttoning your jeans to kiss your stomach.

"I didn't think it was possible," he started as he skated over each hipbone, "but you're even more perfect now than you were six years ago." Pulling him back to his feet, you kicked your bottoms off, reaching down to relieve him of his as well.

"You're pretty perfect, yourself," you pointed out. Dean stepped out of his pants, reaching down to grab the backs of your thighs. As he lifted you, you wrapped your legs around his waist in response.

"I don't even come close to you, sweetheart." His words had your heart skipping a beat as he walked the two of you to the mattress, placing you gently on the plush comforter. When you laid back, you pulled him down with you, and the heat from his chest flush against yours flooded you with warmth. You hooked a leg around him, toying with the waistband of his briefs. Dean leaned down to capture your lips in another soft kiss. "Are you sure?" he murmured into your mouth. Fixing him with the most sincerity you could, you nodded.

"I'm sure. Are you?" The way he looked at you in response made your throat tighten with emotion.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." You pulled him back down to your mouth one more time.

"I love you," you said again, loving the way the words sounded out loud.

"I love you too." As he took off his briefs, you pushed your panties down your legs, tossing them off the edge of the bed right as Dean was positioning himself between your thighs again. When he looked at you one final time for permission, you nodded, and he guided himself into you.

The sensation of being so connected was just as intoxicating as you remembered, and it took your breath away. You heard Dean let out a soft groan as he settled on top of you, his muscular arms coming to rest on either side of your head. He drew back slowly before pressing into you again, setting a tender, even pace. Winding a leg around him, your body arched up into his like the push and pull of an ocean's wave. Dean wrapped an arm behind you, between your back and the mattress, as your head tilted back. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your neck, and a jolt of electricity shot through you. Dean’s name was on your lips in a series of breathy whispers as you chased ecstasy with him, moving in perfect synchronization.

You knew that Dean loved you. But you had never known it more than you did at that moment. Never before had you felt as cherished and loved as he made you feel. He left wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, your jaw, and the curves of your ear as he braced his weight on one arm, lacing your fingers together against the mattress with his free hand. You drew him back to you once more by the hairs on the nape of his neck, brushing your tongue against his lip and earning a low groan.

The minutes blurred together as Dean pumped his hips into yours until a familiar ache began to rise in you, making your heart beat faster. Your breaths came in short gasps, and you clutched onto his strong bicep to keep you grounded as warmth flooded through you in powerful waves. Dean wasn't far behind you. His movements grew increasingly erratic as your hips rose up to meet him, and your climax set his into motion. You watched him with a blissful smile as the rise and fall of his chest eventually slowed before he settled onto the mattress next to you, pulling the sheets over both of your naked bodies. Reaching up to finger through his sweat-dampened hair, you scratched your nails lightly against his scalp, making him sigh. A smile tugged at your mouth, and sincerity shone through your eyes when he looked at you.

"What's that smile for?" Dean asked.

"Because I'm so incredibly grateful that we found our way back to each other. I didn't know what to do without you," you admitted. As you pressed your back against his chest, Dean laid a protective arm over you, kissing you tenderly.

"Me neither," he agreed. "You're my missing piece, Y/N. Nothing felt right with you gone." The two of you basked in the silence of happy exhaustion as you began to drift off. As you were about to succumb to sleep, Dean pressed his lips against your temple, and the memory of a dream resurfaced.

"Dean?" you asked softly.

"Hm?" Just before you could ask, you suddenly felt embarrassed.

"Never mind," you decided with a small shake of your head. "You'll think it's dumb." Dean's chuckle came out as a soft exhaling sound.

"Y/N, I think you're a lot of things," he explained. "Beautiful, smart, funny..." He caught your earlobe between his teeth. "Maddeningly sexy, obviously." You giggled. "But dumb just ain't one of 'em." You chewed on your lip thoughtfully for another moment before you finally caved.

"All right. Did you..." You still felt silly asking. "Our first night at the motel room," you continued, a bit more confident this time. "Did you kiss me on the forehead?" Dean froze behind you.

"I thought you were asleep." Instantly, you let out a breath of relief. Had he said no, that would've made that dream one hell of a vivid one.

"I was, mostly." He sighed. "Not that I mind," you assured as you pressed on, "but why did you do that? We just had that stupid fight, and I thought you were beyond pissed at me." Dean rubbed an extra bit of warmth into your bare arm affectionately.

"I was never pissed at you," he clarified. "I was so damn relieved that you were safe, but I was worried too. Hell, I'm still worried. And you and I both know I'm not exactly the best at expressing my emotions right."

"'No chick flick moments,'" you quoted. Dean groaned loudly from behind you, and you grinned.

"God, you're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"Probably not, no."

"I guess what I'm trying to say," Dean started again, "is that even if you hated me for what I did, after all the hell I put us both through to keep you safe, I was just over the friggin' moon that you were alive. Because you are the most important thing in the world to me." The smile that came onto your face was just for you to see. You reached up to squeeze Dean's hand gently, turning your head to kiss him lightly on the lips before getting comfortable.

"Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

Thank you guys so much for reading!

Like I said, I would really love to get some feedback for this chapter in particular!

If you’re not already, I highly recommend adding yourself to the Only You taglist so you don’t miss anything!

Chapter 12 - The Lion’s Den

My Everythings:

@cole-winchester @alexwinchester23 @1-am-made-of-stardust @thorukindig @fiftyshadesoffandom6783 @hobby27 @supernaturalenchanted @organicpurplepants @odysseyofasiren @defenderrosetyler @crystal-lilac @youshrimpdickfucknugget

Only You:

@formulafun @greenarrowhead

#Supernatural #fanfiction #Supernatural fanfiction #Only You #Only You Series #Only You Chapter 11 #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #reader #female reader #original female character #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #Dean Winchester x original female character #protective!mom #emotions #emotional hurt #fluff #smut

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theexecutionerssong · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Gaëlle ! Est-ce-que tu aurais des recommendations de fic Destiel ? Sans trop de smut, surtout pas beta/Omega (c'est même plus du smut à ce niveau-là...) et beaucoup de pining ? ( Je devrai être en train de réviser mes partiels d'ailleurs... 😅). Merci beaucoup ! 😌

Hellooo ! Alors tu as frappé à la bonne porte parce que je lis jamais de smut, ou alors quand c’est dans des longues fics, je passe juste ces passages là. (mais j’aime beaucoup les fic a/b/o qui ont pas de smut, parce que les sentiments sont quintuplés donc pining + angst on a whole other level). Y’a peu de fluff dans mes fics préférées, love me some angsty life and death moments, mais ça finit toujours bien. Enfin. Vérifie les tags quand même :)))) J’ai mis les liens, si y’a pas c’est qu’elles ont été supprimées mais j’ai les pdf donc hit me up.Et révise tes partiels !!!!

CANON

A turn of the earth -https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138552/chapters/11825306

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

Probably my favorite fic set in Canon. It’s set around season 11, and I love how we dive into Dean’s past pre-series and then as time goes by, we catch up with the show timeline’s. It’s incredibly well written.

525,600 Minutes - https://archiveofourown.org/works/507228/chapters/892693

A man wakes up alone on the streets of Detroit. Lost and somehow forgotten, he's dressed in blood-soaked clothing without memories and without a name.

This is his journey to find it.

It was first published in 2012 set after s5, but it was rewritten last year. I still have the old version for nostalgia’s sake but the new version is even better. It’s got some amnesia so great for pining :))))

The inexhaustible silence of houses -https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Almost two years after the world doesn't end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh.

But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.

Listen, I cried. I cried SO MUCH. There was a lil fandom war going on for a time between which was the hardest, this one or Twist and Shout, and both destroy me completely. But this one is set in canon and closer to the characters, to me, so I’ll always recommend this one first (unless you want a happy ending, in which case, don’t read it)

Only if for a night - https://archiveofourown.org/works/826303

Castiel is captured by a djinn. Dean goes slightly crazy, and Cas discovers a thing or two about himself.

I’m a sucker for Dean/Cas in Djinn verse and this one is by far my favorite.

The Bird That Feels The Light (not slash) https://archiveofourown.org/works/210860

AU from 5.18 (or thereabouts). Castiel awakens in the middle of a smoking crater, stranded and very much human. According to the people who have discovered him, it’s six months to the day after Michael and Lucifer faced off on the field of battle outside of Detroit, and Castiel isn’t the only one to have returned. When, at his insistence, they take him to this other person, he finds a child –a little boy– and realizes that, contrary to all his expectations, he has been reunited with Dean Winchester. The world has changed in their absence, and not for the better. Sam is gone, whether dead or simply missing is uncertain. Castiel is given the name of a man in Idaho who may have answers for him. He is faced with the task of travelling cross-country with Dean, who is dependent on him now in ways he never was before, in order to discover the truth. But along the way, as he and Dean learn to know and trust each other once more, Castiel begins to realize that the answers he thought he wanted might not be the ones he needs.

It’s not slash at all since Dean is a kid but I’ve read it probably about 20 times and I still love it as the first time. There’s just something about human Castiel carrying a 4 year old Dean across the world and fighting monsters and demons and humans to survive that gets to me.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - https://archiveofourown.org/works/747324

Castiel travels with the angel tablet and without the Winchesters. One day, Dean gets a text from some anonymous number. (They speak in the language of need.) A post-08.17 Goodbye, Stranger story.

If you want pining, this one is definitely for you.

Last Man Standing - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8363328/1/Last-Man-Standing

This one is set just after the season 7 finale, it’s a Purgatory fic with so.much.pining I always need to hold a pillow to my chest when I read it or I go insane sdfghjkl I haven’t read it in probably 4 years but I remember absolutely loving it.

Outrun my gun - https://archiveofourown.org/works/281887/chapters/448388

"The two of you are so stubborn you've made Heaven blink." Finally convinced that Sam and Dean will never say yes and accept their destinies, Heaven and Hell come up with a new plan, one that will redraw the Apocalypse and make everything run much more smoothly. All they need is Dean Winchester's soul.

Don’t mind the MCD tag, it’s got a happy ending. Also a classic set in canon, it’s from 2011 so quite oldish but it’s incredible how the characterization is on point. Love love love it.

Tramps Like Us

Dean Winchester's life is falling apart. He's lost his job, his apartment, and his brother, all in one day. He seems to break everything he touches. Frustrated and alone, he drives off into the night with no idea where he's headed. But then he meets Castiel Novak, a quiet and reclusive man with a haunted past, and suddenly he finds himself with a very specific destination in mind.

I feel like everyone has read Tramps Like Us but just in case, I’ll put it on the list. Not sure what I can say that hasn’t been said by half this website already but well… it deserves the hype.

Til The Last - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001935/chapters/1984189

When the war came, Dean Winchester was determined that he was not going to get involved. He had more important things to worry about than some rich man’s fight. He had work on the farm and he had taking care of his family. Nothing else was worth his worry. But in August in the Year of Our Lord 1863, when the soldiers came knocking, they weren’t asking. They dragged Dean away.

Dean and Cas have been best friends since they were kids. When Dean is drafted into the Confederate army, to what lengths will Castiel go to ensure that Dean makes it back home alive?

OH BOY. OHHHHH I could talk about that one until the day I die. It’s a complete AU but it has great parallels to canon, it’s incredibly well written, humanity in all it’s ugly truth and “I will fight for you ‘til the last, Dean Winchester” jesus christ it’s so good, so good

Out of the Deep - https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep.

It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep.

Castiel should have listened better.

I love everything she writes but I think this one if my favorite. It’s sooooo long, and angsty as fuck but all ends well and it has some very fluffy moments. If you’re into this kinf of AU then 100% go for it.

To Raise a King - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961403

This must be some kind of horrible joke at Castiel’s expense. Is he truly expected to protect a King? One who has been their enemy for as long as he can remember? He is much more suited to being a part of the army, or at the very least someone who helps to train the knights. That would be far more preferred than having to watch over the King. It means Castiel would get to keep fighting – and that’s the only way he knows to give meaning to his life.

An AU too, Cas is tasked to watch over Sam and Dean -there’s an 8 year age difference between Dean and Cas. I loved it because it’s set over about 15 years and Cas is asexual and I love time period AU in general :’)

Painted Angels https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085792

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

This one is hard to read because for the most part, it’s heartbreaking. There are happy flashbacks all along but it’s still hard when what happens in the present it’s a fucking tragedy. But I would still read it a thousand times over, and the timestamp completely make up for all the pining and the angst. It’s rare to find fics that last an entire lifetime.

#gaelle parle #spn #fic rec #martineaualexia

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aquaticalay · 5 years ago

Text

Centurion .Chapter Eight.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sequel to For Something Greater

Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever become a SEAL. After successfully stopping a genocide with the help of the Avengers, she becomes a bridge between the military and the earth's mightiest heroes. But even as her relationship with Bucky grows, she decides not to tell him about the nightmares and trauma that haunt her. Both their secrets begin to unravel when Bucky accidentally stumbles upon a piece of dangerous information about (Y/n) that she must never find out about.

Genre: Action, Drama, Romance

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, death, eventual smut, PTSD

Warning/s for the chapter: nothing, just… brace yourself :)

Word count: 2.1k

Note: The plot is heavily inspired by the song 'in the dark' by Bring Me The Horizon, and 'Mercy' by Muse. So yeah, go listen to it if you want to :))) I'll post a new chapter every two days.

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist!

(Taglist will be reblogged)

THIS IS A SEQUEL TO 'FOR SOMETHING GREATER.' IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT, THE MASTERLIST IS IN MY BIO.

TRIGGER WARNING! THIS SERIES REVOLVES AROUND POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER. (Including, but not limited to: anxiety/panic attacks, extreme mood swings , nightmares, intrusive thoughts, insomnia, irritability, hypervigilance, and hyperarousal)

You had to detach yourself from your guilt, at least for now. You and Bucky had taken a quinjet to Lithuania this morning without authorization from the Avengers. Bucky even carelessly made an excuse to Friday, telling the AI he was going to accompany you to Seattle for the day.

As soon as you were in the air, Bucky had deactivated tracking and activated cloaking, so you wouldn't get caught or detected, but that also meant that if there was some sort of emergency, you were on your own.

Bucky was on the pilot seat, entering the exact coordinates based off the data you had filtered down. You, on the other hand, stood near the center table, checking your weapons and ammunitions, making sure they were reliable.

"We're good," Bucky announced, standing up from the seat, "we should be there in 3 to 4 hours." He walked towards you, donning his zipped-up tactical suit, the gold of his vibranium arm gleaming in the soft glow of the lights. Under his shirt pressed into the center of his chest was your dog tags, and you were wearing his, too.

You breathed out, minimally reacting to what he said. There were so many things on your mind, and Bucky could see that. He understood.

He stood next to you, pushing a strand of hair off your face. He gently placed his flesh hand under your chin, lifting and turning it until your eyes locked with his intense blue orbs.

"You alright, doll?" He asked worriedly.

"Sure." Your voice was hesitant, and it did not convince Bucky.

He opened his mouth, but shut it again. He wanted to talk to you about what you mentioned yesterday, about not being able to rest. But he knew this was not the time. He knew that chances are, you'll push him away before he could ask. He will talk to you about it, but not now. He'll find the right time, somehow. He always did.

He cupped your cheeks, rubbing circles on your soft skin. "We're gonna be alright, okay?"

You sighed, placing your hand over his. You loved his hands, delicate fingers under calloused skin. "Okay," you finally said.

You let him kiss your lips, knocking all the air out of your lungs.

The kiss started slow, but soon picked up its pace. Bucky dragged his tongue on your lips, and you let him bite your mouth open.

You put your hand around his arm, holding on to him as he melts further into you.

Bucky felt dizzy, and it was not airsickness. He was almost high on the taste of you, the scent of you. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help himself but spiral down into the thought of you.

He pushed you back gently, your waist tightly pressed to the table behind you, your right hand steadying yourself on the edge of the table. He pulled away from the kiss before it got too heated pressing his forehead against yours.

"I love—" he started to say, but you beat him to it.

"I love you," you say quickly, making sure it sounded as genuine as you meant it to be.

"Mhmm," Bucky pecked your lips, "I was gonna say that, too."

"Then say it," you urged him, almost teasing, but you had a hint of desperation in your voice.

"I love you," he peppered loving kisses on your face, "and I will never, ever let anything happen to you."

You believed him, because you know you'd do the same too.

Four hours went by faster that you'd expected. Before you knew it, the quinjet touched down in an abandoned heliport in Kaunas, Lithuania at four in the afternoon.

The sun sets in Kaunas at about 4:30, so you only had to wait thirty minutes for the complete cover of night. Bucky sat on the pilot's seat of the quinjet, you on the co-pilot's seat. The two of you stared out the orange sunset over the red-brick European city, a beam of light streaming through the jet's window.

Since you were on higher ground, the city lay before you like a living painting, civilians turning on the city lights. If you blink fast enough, they flash like dying stars. "Beautiful," you sighed, admiring the view. You looked at Bucky, but his eyes were locked on you.

The sunset hue reflected on you made you look like you glow golden, and Bucky's eyes were fixed on you, unwavering. "Mmhmm," he agreed, but you were not so sure if he was talking about the same thing as you.

You smiled at him sincerely before getting up. You dragged an arm light across his shoulder on your way to the back of the quinjet. You zipped up your kevlar suit, securing two glocks on both of you thigh holster. You made sure you took off the trident pin and left it behind. This wasn't a SEAL operation. You respected them too much to drag them into this mess.

Bucky walked to the opposite of you, stocking up his ammunitions and slinging his rifle to his back.

"Let's go," Bucky urged, opening the hatch of the quinjet.

The two of you walked out of the quinjet, but didn't spend much time outside. You descended to the sewers, walking down the narrow path next to the stream of smelly sewage. Bucky followed your lead.

Bucky turned on a flashlight, and you attentively look at the GPS on your armband so you know where to go. Within fifteen minutes, you hit a red brick wall. "Here," you told Bucky.

You pressed a palm to feel the texture the aged red brick, some of it covered in thick moss because of its humidity. You pressed into it and felt a slight pressure change.

"I think this is a door," you said, "But I don't know how to open it."

Bucky looked around for anything that might be used as some sort of lock. He squinted when he saw a suspiciously large box, a metal circuit breaker in a place where it wasn't needed. He tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. He opened the metal plates forcefully. Sure enough, it was a numerical set of buttons and a small screen. "Found something," he said, "and I think I can bypass it."

You turned to him, nodding in approval

He pressed a few numbers, but he was denied. After a few more tries, the thick brick door opened slightly. It would open fully because it was rusted, so you had to pull it apart until it was big enough for the two of you to fit in. Once you got inside, you turned your own flashlight on. There was a staircase that lead upstairs.

"How did you know the passcode?" You asked, tilting your head.

"I remembered," he replied flatly. He remembered Petrov from when he was the Winter Soldier, and he vaguely remembered seeing him enter his passwords.

You stepped up the stairs as carefully as you could, trying not to make a sound, Bucky just a few steps behind.

Once on the top of the staircase, you were faced with a metal door. Before you pushed it open, you pulled out your gun and held it in front of you, just in case.

Opening the door, you entered the dark room, and it seemed eerily similar to the lab you raided in Ukraine.

This lab consisted of two levels above ground in an abandoned part of Kaunas. The glass window were covered up with card boards, old lab equipments covered in white translucent sheets. Like the lab in Ukraine, this one was filled with stainless steel, glass tubes, and filthy grey floors that haven't been swept in years, with the addition of a whole wall of filing cabinets. It looked just as abandoned.

"I'll take first floor," said Bucky, "You take upstairs. Sam might be there."

Nodding, you did as he told you to. You moved to the open staircase on the other side of the room.

As you disappeared out of his sight, Bucky swept the room quickly, looking for anything that caught his eye. Unfortunately, nothing did.

Nothing was suspicious at all, everything was abandoned, cold, and empty.

He sighed, then glanced at the only thing he hadn't touched.

The silver filing cabinets.

Out of curiosity, he looked at the whole wall filled with cabinets. There were worn out labels with the alphabet written on it, and his hand directly ran to the letter 'M.'

He tried to open the drawer, but it was locked. He yanked it open with his human arm, a display of just how strong he was without having to use his bionic limb.

Sure enough, there were so many papers inside it. Most of them were reports, but a few were research files. He delicately ran his finger on the paper, one thing on his mind.

"Come on, Petrov," he whispered to himself, "where did you put it?"

"Mercy, mercy, mercy…" Bucky trailed off, and stopped when he found the file with the right name. In the file wasn't pages of a profile like he'd expected. Instead it was a gold key.

Jesus fucking christ, why did Petrov always have to make everything more complicated than it already is?

Bucky took the key and scanned the room once more. He spotted a loose ceramic floor near the cabinets.

Could it be…?

He hastily took it out, and sure enough, there was a wooden box under there. It was degrading, but only by a little. He picked it up and unlocked it, and he finally had the files to Mercy One and Two's profile.

Finally.

Mercy Two's profile was the first piece of paper he picked up.

His profile was closer the the wood that was breaking down. The photo that came with his profile was the picture of a growing baby inside a medium-sized pod, being kept alive by cables flowing oozing green liquid. The pod functioned as a womb to the growing child. Bucky scanned the profile.

Status: Successful

Supersoldier: Negative

Name: Nolan T—

Bucky squinted. There were a few letters after the letter 'T', but it was too faded. Bucky couldn't read it.

He scanned down again and read.

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Black

Gender: Male

Observed and assigned to: Sarah Marin and Abraham Harden

There were photos of Marin and Harden attached, too. These were Hydra agents given a mission to pretend to be Mercy Two's parents. Nolan's false parents. Their mission was to report back any unusual activities Mercy Two might do in his childhood. That was everything on the paper. He wished there had been more information, but he had to work with what he got.

Bucky set Nolan's papers aside, and grabbed Mercy One's profile. He was greeted with a similar photo of a baby in a tube. As he read through it, his heart suddenly sank.

Status: Successful

Supersoldier: Negative

Name: (Y/n) (L/n)

What? Bucky thought to himself. This can't be true. (Y/n) had parents. She told Bucky about them. They both worked in the UN anti-terrorism committee.

Unless they were double agents. Unless the reason they were in the UN in the first place was to infiltrate them.

Bucky didn't want to believe it, but the more he read about Mercy One, the more it confirmed that it was you.

Eyes: (E/c)

Hair: (H/c)

Gender: Female

Observed and assigned to: Marcel Lowry and Ria Safin

He studied Lowry's and Safin's photograph. Bucky had seen you childhood photos before, some of them even with your 'parents.' And there was no doubt that Lowry and Safin was them. The resemblance was too striking for him to be wrong.

Fuck.

He had to accept it. He had to accept the you are Mercy One.

Bucky read again to make sure he read everything right.

Suddenly, Bucky's cogs in his brain started turning. Everything finally made sense.

You were supposed to be a supersoldier. You were engineered to be one, but you did not show any signs of it. You must've had dormant supersoldier genes. That's why, when Bucky gave his blood to you for the transfusion, you became a supersoldier. It woke your genes up.

Bucky's blood was not the cause, but rather the trigger of your supersoldier abilities.

What was he supposed to do now?

He wasn't going to tell you. He couldn't. He didn't have the heart to. At your mental state, finding out that you were hunting yourself would only add to the already piling problems. He knew how self-destructive you were, or how you can be. He had to keep this a secret, for your sake.

As he quickly tried to stash the files under his tactical suit, he heard a gunshot from upstairs.

His heart plunged into a freefall. You were upstairs.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky imagines #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan x reader

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years ago

Text

15x04: Atomic Monsters

Then:

Becky was an obsessed, gross fangirl, and it was not awesome.

Now:

We open to the bunker under attack. Dean is in full beard and kicking ass. Boy, the director of this episode sure knows how to make Dean pretty. He makes it to the bunker’s kitchen to find Benny (!!!!) on the floor dying.

I don’t rewatch Taxi Driver for a reason, Show. I loved Benny and Dean’s friendship, so while this was great just to have him back for old time’s sake, it still makes me sad that he’s still gone. (And spoiler, this is Sam’s dream. I just like to think about how Sam still thinks about this friendship he didn’t want Dean to have and it haunts him to this day.)

Dean’s looking for someone. He walks into the war room and finds him: Sam, all powerful on demon blood. Dean tries reasoning with his brother, but he’s past all that. Sam kills another hunter sneaking up on them, and then he kills Dean.

Sam wakes up from his nightmare, gasping. SAM!

He heads to the kitchen to find Dean looking for cases, drinking coffee, and eating a plate of bacon. Dean says it’s veggie bacon when Sam tries to turn down eat some. Sam also tells Dean that his self-proclaimed nickname “Meat Man” isn’t what he thinks it means. Dean apparently knows exactly what it means and he’s standing by it. Ahem. Dean also calls Sam out on not handling their recent losses. The Just Brothers show is a real bummer.

Anyway, the case Dean found is in Iowa. There’s been a string of cattle mutilations and a young woman’s body found ripped to pieces.

Also, it was real bacon and Dean’s a dick for trying to trick Sam into eating it.

At Beaverdale High School, Sam learns Susie, the vic, was a popular girl and there’s going to be a prayer vigil for her at the school. Two parents show up asking about the game getting canceled --or rescheduled. They’re just can’t have that happen. There was going to be a scout coming to that game for their son, Billy.

Sam is appalled (and I’m sad for him, so close to losing family he cared about.) The vice principal shuts down the pushy parents, and after they leave mutters, “I swear, the parents are worse than the kids.”

Sam meets back up with Dean (eating again). Dean was just at the morgue and found a vamp fang. This one’s a weird one. Vamps don’t usually tear their victims apart. Also, she didn’t even try to fight off her attacker.

Later that night, a fellow student leaves the school only to be attacked by the camera in the bushes!!

Sam and Dean check out where Susie was found. No blood means she was killed elsewhere and her body was dumped in the woods. Sam soliloquies about how taking care of the monsters is their job and they carry the weight of everyone. Dean drinks from his flask. They are coping SO WELL, guys!

Sam gets a call that another girl is missing.

WHOA. Becky, fangirl and Sam kidnapper extraordinaire, is married with kids and is looking forward to having the house to herself for the day. Just as her husband and kids pull away, she sees her old ex, Chuck, across the street. Run, Becky, Run! Chuck wants to talk. UGH.

The VP fills the brothers in on the new missing teen.

Chuck checks out Becky’s maquettes and learns that she’s a successful Etsy seller of Supernatural merchandise. She fesses up to how wrong what she did to Sam was, admitted to counseling. She kept writing. She wrote the good stuff, amirite? Chuck disagrees and thinks that people like the monsters. (Natasha: raises hand.) Becky’s a busy person so Chuck better cut to the chase here. Chuck won’t let the whole monster thing go.

Chuck admits to having a falling out with the Winchesters. He also tells Becky that his sister won’t help, because “she sucks.” Becky can’t believe that Chuck thinks he can come crawling back to her. She’s got a good life now. She doesn’t need him.

Becky’s nice though (can’t believe I just wrote those words), and asks Chuck, what makes him happy. Writing. She tells him he has to write.

Back at the high school, Dean is interviewing a man in a beaver suit while eating a hot dog.

JESUS CHRIST ON A CRACKER. (I’m conducting an experiment with my GA co-worker about Dean is bi-Dean/Cas. I can’t wait to hear what she says about this. She did call The Breakup a “bro-fight” so I’ll keep you all posted.)

In the school gymnasium, Billy and Veronica bond over losing Susie. Billy’s mom interrupts and he runs away.

The third-in-line-to-the-throne cheerleader practices her eulogy alone in a gym. I obsessed over this scene in this post about stories, because it was such a strange beat in the episode. The Winchesters confront her. They ask her to head off with them alone (GURL never do that with anyone you don’t know) when Sam notices that she wears braces.

Sam and Dean leave the gym in a huff. Vampires don’t wear braces! Foiled by braces yet again! They go back to the drawing board.

We finally get a peek in the happy lacrosse family’s home. Everyone’s argumentative and on edge, and when we get a closeup of the dad he’s washing blood off his hands in the sink.

The camera pans through the house to the garage where the kidnapped cheerleader, Tori, lies bound and gagged. UGH.

Chuck experiences the downside of Becky-in-momland: no booze! Chuck complains that he can no longer see Sam and Dean in his head and subtly touches his hidden bullet wound. Ooooo. Becky lays out some truths for Chuck. “You’re a writer. A writer who’s not writing. And when a writer’s not writing, they feel sad and they get lost. Why do I feel this way? Why am I so sad and lost? And what is all this naval gazing and hair pulling amount to in the end? Procrastination. Distraction. Just one million ways the writer avoids doing the one thing that is guaranteed to make the writer feel better. Which is…”

“Writing,” Chuck finishes the thought. Go Becky! Except…um…now Chuck is inspired to write again. And when Chuck writes? The world ends.

Chuck takes over Becky’s computer (RUDE) and starts his next opus on supernaturalstory-onebillionparallelworlds.com.

Sam and Dean check out the security footage from the night Tori was abducted. They nab a suspicious vehicle and a license plate which lands them at...Billy’s house.

At Billy’s house, strife continues to be the word of the day. The parents argue that they want what’s best for Billy - whatever that is. Sam and Dean head inside, looking as dangerous as panthers.

Sam heads for the garage while Dean cues the dad into a little fun fact: they’re not FBI. No, they’re considerably scarier than the FBI. Dean pulls out a machete which is probably NOT FIELD ISSUE OKAY.

Sam discovers that the girl has been hooked up to an IV - she’s become a slow-release food source. The mom interrupts them with a GUN.

Danger mom escorts Sam and the cheerleader back to the living room where they have a gun vs. machete stand-off. Obviously Dean would win this matchup, okay? He’d probably, idk, stop the bullets in his teeth or something.

Becky reads over Chuck’s work. She adores it! Chuck pushes for some notes. She asks for higher stakes and while we get distracted by her rambling about the lack of classic rock and Cas, Chuck’s expression grows GRIM and DARK and VERY SCARY. (Good job Rob, you talented cinnamon roll!)

“You want jeopardy? You want danger? I’ll give you danger.” Thanks for the trip to CREEPY TOWN, Chuck.

Billy heads downstairs and witnesses the confrontation between the Winchesters and his parents. Dean does his usual monologue, explaining how the dad got turned into a vamp, tried to eat cows, and started eating teen girls instead. But Sam observes Billy and points out something very different. “It’s not the dad, it’s the son.” Billy confesses: he was kissing his girlfriend when he lost control and ate her instead. Man, I HATE it when that happens.

Billy told his parents, who covered it up. They kidnapped Tori as a longer term feed option. But now their son lays it all out. He’ll take the fall for everything, including Tori’s kidnapping and assault. And he’ll take a one-way ride with the Winchesters.

UGH now everything is terrible. Dean executes the son in a dark wooded area as the rest of the world washes any trace of the supernatural away.

Back with Chuck, Becky finishes reading his higher-stakes take. She’s disturbed. “You can’t,” she pleads. “This is just an ending.”

“Yeah,” Chuck says, pleased. “I don’t know how I’m getting there, but I know where I’m going.” That destination, to be specific, is just a tombstone with the word WINCHESTER on it. (Can I get a hell yeah for this meta-awareness and roundabout promise that we WON’T get this ending?)

“You can’t do this to the fans!” Becky insists. But she’s prevented from saying more by her husband’s sudden return. She starts to explain the presence of Chuck, when Chuck just ZAPS her husband out of existence. Her kids call out and BOOM they’re gone too. I start to get worried that we’re gonna have some sort of icky reverse-Misery situation here when Chuck decides to zap Becky away as well. (Can’t wait until Becky kills God at the end of the series, guys!)

In the car, Sam directly parallels Billy to Jack. Dean admits that he wanted to “cash out” in the crypt, but that Sam’s insistence that they matter pulled him back. (Me: RLY?) Sam’s bitter. Dean’s tense. “We still do the job,” Dean says. “We do it for Jack. For mom. For Rowena. We owe it to anybody who has ever given a damn about us to keep putting one foot in front of the other. No matter what.”

Dean goes on to say that with Chuck gone, they’re finally free to “move on” and EXCUSE ME while I go throw myself into a Destiel trash bin at that phrasing. Sam’s not in the Destiel trash bin with me, because he tells us he still mourns Jessica and now we’re HURTING for other reasons. SAM BBY!

Back at Becky’s house Chuck continues to write...INSIDIOUSLY. I can’t wait for Chuck’s next book: Sad Boys in the Impala.

______________________________

Read These Quotes Backward for a Demonic Spell:

The end of the world is the end of the world

They have no idea what’s out there

But people LIKE monsters

I need wine

Why am I so sad and lost? And what is all this naval gazing and hair pulling amount to in the end? Procrastination. Distraction. Just one a million ways the writer avoids doing the one thing that is guaranteed to make the writer feel better.

Nobody even mentions Cas

To see your child in pain rips your heart out

We can bury them out back. Under the peonies. Everything is going to be FINE

Fans are gonna love it

Oh, Becky. I can do anything. I’m a writer

We do the ugly things so that people can live happy

Monsters are cool. What? They’re all teeth!

______________________________

#spn recap #spn 15x04 #atomic monsters #dean winchester #sam winchester #chuck shurley #becky rosen #benny lafitte #supernatural season 15

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creepyalienghost · 4 years ago

Text

Ouija board Board

Tw: bloody and graphic

——

It’s Halloween night. Most people, like Joey were finishing up on getting there candy. Joey invited his friends over for the night to hang out after they were finish. His parents were at a Halloween party at a hotel and were going to stay there that night because they were drinking.

Joey walked into his and put his candy bag next to his bed. He decided to leave on his zombies custom and prepare his house to be more spooky. He light candles up and placed them around the kitchen table and turned off all the lights. Then he turn on the tv onto a scary movie.

Around 15 minutes Henry arrived at joeys having his costume of a robber on. “Hey joey. Love your costume. Looks so real!” He greets. “Also sorry I’m late.”

“No. Your the first one here!” Joey moved aside, offering him inside. “Love the robber costume as well!”

Henry walked in. “Thanks!” He followed Joey into the living room and sat down to him. “So what’s this idea you have.” He looked at Joey.

“We have to wait for the others before I tell.” Joey replied. “But it’s going to be fun. I promise.”

Within half an hour everyone had shown up. Norman dressed up as a vampire. He had the fake blood dripping down his chin and had fake evil Contacts for his eyes and even the teeth was amazing, Sammy as death. Joey knew it was mostly to hide the bruises and jack as a wizard, the robe, still and all . They all settled for a bit in the living room, eating some candy, getting some soda and watching the movie before Joey decided it was time.

“Alright you guys go gather around the table. I’ll get the game.” Joey said then walked to his room.

The boys huddled around the table next to each other and glancing at each other. “Henry do you know what he’s up to?” Ask Jack.

“No. He said he wanted us all here before telling” Henry replied, shrugging.

“Wonder what he’s got in mind.” Sammy said glancing at everyone.

Norman nodded. “Yea me to. Can’t be to bad.”

“Alright! Here it is!” Joey announced as he walked back in. He sat the box down in the middle of the table. The box with the Ouija board inside it. The four all looked at the box in horror for a good long minute.

Norman spoke first. “I’m not touching it.” He glances at Joey.

“Oh come on!” Joey complain sitting down. “I’ll be fun! Right guys?” He looked at the others.

“Joey. These things are dangerous!” Henry replied to Joey. He himself had read the hell that this things could unleash.

Joey looked at jack. “What about you? Your up for some scares?” He grinned wickedly.

Jack shrugged at him. “I donno man...my mother would kill me if she knew I played this...” he sighs.

Joey turned to Sammy. He already knows Sammy liked the bazaar things he had shown Sammy in the past. “What about you Sammy? You in?”

Sammy looked back at him and nodded. “ I’ll do it! Let’s do it!”

“Sammy..” Norman replied then sighed. “ I’m not letting him do it alone. Guess I’ll join as well.” He rolled his eyes. Henry and jack agreed eventually as well.

Joey grinned again. “Let’s play!” He reached over and opened the books to an old Ouija board and pulled it out, along with the planchette. He moved the box and put the board in the middle of them. “Alright everyone put two fingers on the planchette.”

Each of them put there two fingers on it starting by Joey and ending by Henry. Together they circled it around the board three times, chanting. “We welcome any spirt who wants to communicate with us.”

After, Joey ask the first question. “Is there any spirt here with us right now?” They all waited with there fingers on the planchette for something to happen. Nothing happened for the longest time. Then the planchette started towards the YES. “

Ok. Who’s moving it?” Norman ask looking at each of the others.

“Not me!” Joey answered honestly.

Sammy shakes his head no. “Nether am I”

“Nope” Henry replied.

“Not me ether!” Jack said

They all collectively took there hands off the planchette and stares at the board “Guys ...come on. Seriously, who was moving it?” Henry ask.

No one confessed to moving it. “Ok let’s just continue playing..” Joey suggested. One by one the return there fingers to the planchette and Joey again ask the question. “Are you still here?”

The planchette moved, quickly this time, to the YES again, frightening the boys. But they kept there fingers on the planchette and after few seconds of staring at each other they continued. “Are you good or evil.” Jack asked this time.

The planchette was still for the Longest time. Then it moved to the moon side. “I don’t like this anymore guys. It’s an evil spirt.” Sammy said. His voice trembling

“It’s ok Sammy. It can’t hurt us.” Joey replied confidently. “Let’s keep playing. I have another question for it.”

Norman wrapped his arm around Sammy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t let nothing bad happen to you Sammy.” Sammy snuggles into him, feeling safe with him. He looked up at Norman and kisses him.

”You two love birds done over there?” Joey interrupted. Sammy and Norman parted their kiss, there faces flushed.

Norman clears his throat. “Yea. Let’s continue.” Him and Sammy return there fingers back on the planchette.

“I’ll ask this time.” Henry said. “Do you want to hurt us?” He ask the board. The planchette slowly moved to the YES once again. Henry and jack both removed there fingers from it.

“I’m done!” Norman shouts. “ I’m

Not playing this anymore!” He crosses his arms.

“One more!” Joey begged. “Just one more then we’re say goodbye.” He looked at his friends. “Come on..”

Norman sighs. “Fine. This is the last question!” He and everyone else placed there fingers on the planchette for the last time.

Joey answered that last question. “Who are you?” All eyes were glued on the planchette aa it moved to the first letter. D. It slowly moved to the second letter and stopped on E. The boys fears were rising as the planchette moved to the third letter. V. The boys were scared shitless when the planchette stopped on the fourth letter. I. The planchette went on the fifth and final letter before things went south. L.

“Devil” Joey read. Then everything happen so quickly. They all herd running footsteps behind them, making them turn around in a panic, just as the power went out and the candles were blown out by some mystery wind. Then they herd someone collapse.

“what the hell was that?!” Jack ask in the darkness, his voice was filled with fear.

“Did someone fall?” Henry added to the panic that was unfolding. “What happened?!”

“Guys. Where did Sammy go?” Norman ask, worried and scared.

“Guys! Claim down! I’m trying to find the matches!” Joey huffed. “It was probably just the wind and a power out. No big deal!” He himself was scared shitless as well. He couldn’t explain the footsteps or the the fact both the power and candles went out at the same time. Had they contacted the devil himself? God he sure hoped not.

“What about the name it gave...?” Henry ask joey.

“It was..probably a spirt messing with us!” Joey replied. “Ah! Found them!” Joey lit the match with one strike and created light. Shadows crept on the farthest side of the light on joeys zombie make up face, making the others Erie. He reached over and relight the candles around the table again so they could all see more around them.

Norman looked to his right, where Sammy was standing before who is know on the floor. “Jesus Christ! Sammy!” Norman knelt down and cheek his head for Any injury as the others crowded around them, worried. Norman found none that wasn’t already there. But his body was super warm. “He’s burning up man!” Norman said to them.

Joey placed the Back of his hand to Sammy’s forehead and immediately took it off. “He’s right..” he looked at the others.

Henry shook Sammy by the shoulders. “Sam? Sammy. Wake up dude.”

Sammy slowly came to, his head turn to the side as he mumbled something that was mostly gibberish to them. “ ...h-he’s...inside....m” was what they understood.

“What the hell does that mean!?” Jack ask turning to Joey as does Henry and Norman

Joey notice they eyes were all on him and he looked back at them. “What you looking at me for?!” He ask.

“Your the one that wanted the play!” Norman yelled. “Now Sammy had passed out and is making no sense now! So you tell me what’s going on here?!” Norman commanded. Ever since he found out what was happening to his boyfriend behind closed doors he’d always tried to make Sammy happy and always tried to protect Sammy. He hates the shit he and Joey does for fun like going to abandon and haunted places or playing with Magic. It was dangerous and he didn’t want them getting hurts.

“I don’t know Norman!” Joey yelled back at him. “This never happen before!!” Joey was desperately trying to figure out what happen. He never wanted anyone to get hurt like this.

“Maybe...it’s possession?” Jack spoke up. He knew a little about this subject and he knew this could happened.

Norman looked at jack then back at Joey. “He’s not possess. Right?...” Norman asked Joey but he just looked away. “Joey! He’s not right?!”

“L-lets just calm down everybody..!” Henry, trying to keep the peace between them all. He got in the middle of them. “ Let’s Just get him upstairs to bed to rest them we can discuss this.”

Everyone agreed to Henry’s idea. Norman Picked up Sammy bridal style and went upstairs to Joey’s room. There he laid him down on his bed and jack tucks him in. Henry went to the bathroom and grabbed a rag, wetting it with cool water then he came in and laid the rag on Sammy’s for head.

Norman and Joey went down stairs to talk and jack followed them while Henry stayed with Sammy. “Are you sure this isn’t possession?” Norman ask.

Joey shrugs. “Like I said I don’t know. I really hope it’s not. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“No shit!” Norman sighed. “look could one of your books explain what’s going on or how to get rid of whatever is possessing him if that’s the case?”

That’s when Joey remembered something really important. His eyes widen for the terror he felt. “We didn’t say goodbye to the board!”

Norman froze as he to had forgotten the most important rule of it. Thats when they herd the noise coming from the stairs. All three of them turned to see what it was and all three was shocked to see there friend tumbling down the stairs and landed on the ground unmoving, blood coming from somewhere. They all looked up the stairs to where Sammy is now standing with a pair of bloody scissors in one hand.

“Jesus Christ...” jack said, backing away from the crime scene.

“Shit...” Joey Commented, standing there in fear. “What have I done..”

“S-Sammy....?” Norman took one step closer to him. “You in there?...it’s me Norman...” he took another to his boyfriend.

Sammy looked at Norman for a long moment. Like it was Sammy trying to fight whatever was possessing his body. “Help...”He got out one word before it fully took over again. Then he threw the scissors at Norman.

Norman ducked out of the way just in time but jack didn’t have a chance. He was stabbed in the shoulder with them. “Ah! That hurts like a bitch!” Jack yelled and pulled them out.

”W-who are you..!” Joey yelled at the thing in Sammy. ”what are you!”

Sammy turns his attention to Joey and smiled. “Why you already should know that, joey. We have worked together in the pass. I was hoping you were smart enough to know who I am by now. I am. The devil!” Henry’s body engulfed in flames a second after, making the other boys run to the door. Joey grabbed the nob and tried to opened it but it wouldn’t budge.

“Come on! Open it joey!” Jack yelled as he looked back and see Sammy coming down the stairs.

“I’m trying!!! It’s not opening!!!” Joey yelled back then bangs on the door in frustration.

Norman to kept looking back at Sammy. “It’s keeping us inside!! Run!” All three took off in different directions to hide. Joey went tours the living room. Jack went into the kitchen and Norman jumped over the flaming body, going up the stairs.

“Oh I love this game!” Sammy chuckled. He gave them a minute to hide before he went hunting. After all they couldn’t leave this house. A minute later he headed for the kitchen.

Jack had chose to hide in the pantry, keeping the door cracked open so he could see some. After a moment of hiding here he know it was to easy to find him but it was to late to move. He first only herd the footsteps. It didn’t sound like Normal ones. It sounded strange like goats hooves walking on wood. They got closer and closer until Sammy Came into view from the small crack.

Jack saw him walking slowly around the kitchen like this was some game he could take his time on. Then it occurred to jack that it was a game to the devil. A game of hunt the pray and he was the pray!

Jack continued watching him and when Sammy stopped walking he thought he was going to turn around to him and attach him. He put his hand over his mouth to quiet his loud breathing. But Sammy only turned to the knives. He’s hand reaches and gracefully touched each on before picking up the big sharp one.

Jack watched him Examine over the knife and using it like a mirror on himself. This goes on for minutes before jack actually knew what he was doing. He wasn’t using it on himself he was using it to look over at him! The realization made him jump back and knocking over boxes and jars of food. “Shit!”

The door swung open making jack scream again. “No! Sammy don’t do this!” He begged.

Sammy stabbed the knife into jacks chest and leans into his ear. “Sammy’s not here.” With that he ripped the knife down his stomach, making all his inside spill to the floor, jack screaming the whole time before he dropped down into his guts.

Joey hid behind the couch and had to hear Jack scream and then something that sounds like jelly being thrown on the ground. It wasn’t a pretty sound. He was shaking and trying so hard to stop the sniffling so he wouldn’t get caught. But he was sure jack was dead. He hey Henry was. He could smell his burning body.

After jack feel silent it was all quiet. There was no screaming. There was no footsteps. No creaks nothing. Which is why when Jacks body was thrown at the wall above him he scream and pissed himself. Jack body slid down beside him and all Joey could do is stare in horror. His Stomach had been ripped open emptied. Joey couldn’t help himself he leaned over and threw up all over the place.

He whipped his mouth off the stopped, and slowly looked up at the grinning smile of the that thing. “Hello Joey.” Sammy swung down a screwdriver right into joeys left eye and ripped it out. Joey scream in pain and held his dangling eye.

Suddenly a shoot was fired at Sammy, hitting him the the arm. Sammy turned around to Norman Polk, pointing a gun at him. Sammy frowned and tears up. “Y-your going to kill me?...but I-I thought you wouldn’t ever hurt me.” Sammy started to cry. “I thought you loved me Norman..”

Seeing Sammy’s face bruised up and the blood pouring down his arm as well as it’s Sammy’s voice talking to him crushed Norman. It broke his heart to have to do this to his boyfriend. “ Your not Sammy. Your the god damn devil!” Norman aimed the gun and shoot Sammy right in the heart and watched him fall.

He dropped the gun and ran to Sammy’s limp body and hugged him as he cried. “I’m sorry Sammy. I’m so sorry!” He sobbed in his chest.

Joey Came over, next to Norman, letting his own eye dangle. He slowly reached over and softly closed Sammy’s eyes.

“He would thank you Norman. For not letting you let the devil kill us all. And not letting it kill other innocent people.” Joey said to try to Comfort Norman. “I’m sorry Norman..”

——-

Joey told his parents and the cops that a man came and killed jack, Henry and Sammy. He gave the cops of the looks of an already previous serial killer when they were questioning him. Norman told them he didn’t see the guy from his hiding place so to the cops he was needed as much.

Joey finally said goodbye to the board and made a Fire in there pit. He threw in the board and the planchette. He stood there watching it burn away for a long time. Then he threw all his books about witchcraft, the paranormal and the occult into the fire pit one by one along with all his tool of it like his pentagrams, and his notes he took on it, everything. He was done with Involved in it.

The doctor and nurses had to cut out Joeys left out entirely to save it from infections. They sew the eye closed and gave Joey and eye patch to cover it if he so choses. he would if he didn’t want to hide it with his hair.

Both Norman and Joey went to all three of there funerals to say goodbye to there friends and support there families. Henry’s families had a close casket for his funeral and happen they cremated him and kept his ashes in a vase. Jack funeral was open casket do to how easy it was to hide his stomach under a shirt. His family buried him under a large Oak tree beside his grandmas grave. Poor Sammy didn’t have anyone show up besides his aunt Erin and them. She wasn’t going to let him go without a proper burial for him. Joey said his goodbyes to him like he did with Henry and Jack then left to give Norman time to say goodbye.

Norman rubbed Sammy’s hair as tears ran down his face. “Goodbye Sammy. I will always love you.”

They all watched as his casket is lowered six feet under. Norman was the first to kiss a rose then tossed it below. Joey murmured an apology before he tossed a rose in for Sammy. His aunt tossed one in for him as well then they watch as his casket gets buried beside a beautiful statue of a women.

After the three funerals, Norman had stopped hanging out with joey. He blamed Joey for all this mess and for him losing his boyfriend and two great friends. It was his fault for wanting to play that stupid evil game. Joey knew he didn’t want to be his friend anymore and couldn’t blame him. He to knew he was to blame. After the three funerals he’d lock himself in his room for days. He was becoming depressed. He misses his boyfriend. He misses his friends. And what’s scary is that the Ouija board he had burned was sitting on his desk unburned with the planchette sitting right in the middle of it.

#bendy and the ink machine #joey drew studios #joey drew #henry stein #jack flain #sammy lawrence #norman polk #devil

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superlockatrocity · 4 years ago

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We open to some kids playing fun sleepover games and they wanna play Bloody Mary. This can only end horribly given this show's track record. Spooky dark bathroom and a flickering candle for Ambiance™ and shitty friends for Aesthetic™. Oop shit mirror's haunted now. Mister dad is having a bad time methinks...oop yep that's blood. That girl has a scream on her good god. Sammy's having Nightmares again!! At least Dean woke him up this time. Bribery works wonders! Don't follow Sammy's example kids. There was so much blood on that floor I expected the dude to be half liquefied on that table...aaaand more bribery. Sam. Stoppit. Time to bother more traumatized kids! Younger sis thinks she made bloody mary murder their dad,, well. She ain't all wrong. Dean what was that duckface jesus christ. 🦆 "You know who" Guys, this ain't Voldemort. Calm down. Wasn't Bloody Mary in reference to uhhh y'know. Mary I, Bloody Mary? Like. Where did they come up with the mutilated bride/witch/died in front of a mirror stories? Was this cooked up by the writers or are these actual 'origin stories' for the legend? (Feel free to inform us, o' Faithful Readers and Witnesses to our Descent into Madness.) Ahahaa all the microfilm machines are all busted. Have fun boys. Why is this girl talking on her phone while driving, STOP. Wow she has a shitty friend. Good thing that friend has a short shelf life starting now. Aaaand goodbye blondie. "S-She said it!!" Did she say Voldemort. Did she. Also! Can someone explain to me why Mary there works on the same principle as Beetlejuice. Say his name three times and he shows up, that whole deal. Spooky name on the back of a mirror, oooooo. And it's lots of names on lots of mirrors! The plot thickens. (Mouse and I took a research break that nearly migrated into discussion of the Hapsburg inbreeding, fun times!) I like how they found an ex detective who conveniently has all the info they need. Thank you, helpful detective man. Woooow girl you're stupid. Your friend tries to help and you basically just spit right in her face. Hilarious. My god they have some top notch scream queens in this show. Ahaahahahhahaha flip phone with an antenna, this show just dated the hell out of itself. Tragic backstory time for the friend, scary boyfriend edition! He threatened to hurt himself if she left, she did and he did it and she blames herself. Love that for this show. Ugh. At least they didn't go for guilt tripping the girl. Dean's pulling over for a Talk™. Sammy honey, don't blame yourself. There's nothing you could've done, dude. Oh ho, Sammy's got Secrets™. Sam looks like he's approaching the Mirror of Erised hoping for a glimpse into his deepest desires. Would he see a happy childhood? A happy boring adult life where he gets married and has a couple kids? Who can say. Oop, guilty and bleeding from the eyes. Bitch get your creepy Ring Girl ass back in that mirror before I stomp it oh my god. Oh-ho, a tweest! Guilted herself into a...goopy puddle of blood. Horrible, thanks! Who's gonna mop her up? There's Jessica standing on the corner. Aaaaaand she's gone with a whisper of Ghostly Breath. Funky shit funky shit.

#Supernatural #Spn #S1ep5 #Mod turtle #Livewatch

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thecleverdame · 6 years ago

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Control and Release - 3

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, dub-con,

Words: 3800+

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Parts Four and Five are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

Life goes on, you return to Boston but the events of that night haunt you. There are times when you can’t believe it actually happened, that Sam Winchester had you in his room. And there are nights when it’s all you can think about, laying in the dark with a hand between your legs pretending he’s watching you.

But a week becomes a month and you get the sense that whatever happened was a fleeting mistake. A questionable choice that he’d prefer to forget.

You’re in the middle of typing up handwritten notes for one the of the junior partners when the phone rings. Pepper’s name pops up and you roll your eyes. She hated you from the beginning but after the conference, she’s really had it out for you. She made it clear that you did everything wrong, and she suffered Sam’s sour disposition as a result.

“Hello Pepper,” you answer, feigning a cheery disposition.

“What did you do?” She hisses, clearly trying to keep her voice down.

“I don’t know what that means.” You slouch back in your chair, defeated. None of your work is ever good enough for her.

“Well, you better figure it out. He wants you up here, now.” She grits out.

An immediate mix of dread and excitement springs to life, making your chest tight and cheeks flushed. Before even fully processing the words, you’re sweating.

“Who?” Whispering, you look around, afraid that anyone who sees you might suddenly develop telepathic powers and discover your dirty little secret.

“Who the fuck the do you think? Sam. I don’t know what you did but he wants you in his office ASAP.”

“Okay.” You swallow. “I’m on my way.”

The walk to the elevator seems as if you’re walking underwater, everything moving in slow motion. You’ve convinced yourself you’d never see him in person again, or when you did, he'd dismiss you.

What if this is just about work? No, there’s no way. You’re in charge of the most meaningless, mindless busy-work of anyone in the company. This is him flexing control, you’re sure of it. He’s ignored you for weeks and out of nowhere, you're being summoned to the executive floor.

“You okay?” Max, a junior associate, and resident hot shot asks stepping in beside you.

“Yeah.” You snap, looking at him in sudden concern. “Do I look like something’s wrong?”

“You’re all-” He points at your face, turning his finger in a circle. “Red. Are you getting sick? If you are, you better go home. The last thing anyone needs is the flu.”

“I’m fine.” You reach over and hit the button for the top floor.

“You’re headed to the attic?” He laughs, hollowing out his cheek with a whistle as if to say glad it’s not me. “You screw something up?”

“No, I mean, I don’t think so. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

You know full well that no one of your lowly position gets called up unless they’re on the chopping block.

“I’ve been here a year and I’ve never been above the twentieth floor.” Adjusting his tie Max checks out his reflection in the mirrored wall. “Tell you what, how about I take you out for a drink later? Good or bad, you’re gonna need it.”

“Maybe.” You respond absentmindedly as the elevator dings and Max steps off.

“Good luck.” He gives you a little salute as the doors slide shut and you continue your ascent.

The moment you step off the elevator Pepper is there to give you the third degree en route to Sam’s office.

“If you did something you have to tell me now so that I get in front of it. Everything falls on me. I don’t want to pay the price for your incompetence.”

“I honestly have no idea.” You wish she’d stop talking, you can barely think at the prospect of seeing him again.

“Oh God,” glaring at you she opens the door to his office, gesturing for you enter. “Let me do the talking.”

Sam’s sitting at his desk, fixated on his computer. When he looks up he immediately hones in on you, glancing at Pepper as an afterthought.

“She’s here, finally. I can’t imagine what took so long. I called her twenty minutes ago.” Lies. “Would you like me to stay?” Pepper asks, grinning unnaturally wide.

“No.” Sam quips. “Shut the door and let me know once everyone else is on the call. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Of course.” She turns, sneering silently at you before scampering out of the room.

And before you know it, you’re alone with him again. You don’t say anything, just stand in place as you stare at each other in silence.

“If you want to leave, you should do it now.” He explains calmly, sitting back in his chair. “I won’t stop you and we’ll never speak of it again. But if you stay, you’re giving me consent. Do you understand?

“Yes.” You force out, the fractured word barely audible.

“And what have you decided?” Tilting his head to the side he looks you over from head to toe.

“I’d like to stay.” You’re wet already, squeezing internal muscles and fighting the urge to let your eyes flutter shut.

“Good choice.” His face is expressionless. For being a savant at reading other people he’s just a skilled at cloaking his own emotions. “Come over here.”

Your hands shake as you slowly walk to his desk. He motions for you to come around the side so that you’re standing right next to his chair.

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Not with me.”

“Bring it with you next time.”

“Okay.”

“Are you wearing underwear?” There’s small tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes.” You swallow, closing your eyes for a fleeting second.

“Take them off.” He watches you reach under your skirt and tug the fabric down your legs. Using one hand to balance yourself on the arm of his chair, carefully stepping out of them one high heel at a time. He holds out his hands and you drop them into his palm. “Don’t wear them again.”

Jesus Christ.

“I won’t.” You confirm. Every inch of skin covered in sweat.

“Sit here.” He taps the end of the desk with two fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. Perching on the edge of the desk you pray you don’t pass out. You can scarcely breathe at the anticipation. “Unbutton your blouse.”

His eyes are relentless, boring holes right through you as shaky fingers pop button after button on your creamy, silk blouse. You pull the material open, giving him a view of the bra underneath. His tongue darts out over his lower lip, his line of sight glued to your tits.

“Pull your bra down, just under your nipples.” He instructs and you comply. A pattern is forming, he has a definite preference for how you display yourself. His eyes dart up from your breasts. “Pull your skirt up and spread your legs so I can see your cunt.”

There’s a split second when you don’t think you can do this, especially not in his office in the middle of the day with a building full of people. But it’s also those facts that turn the fear into excitement, pulsing through your veins.

You stand up long enough to pull your skirt up around your waist, bare pussy on full display as you sit back on the edge of his desk and spread your thighs.

“Lean back and open your legs wider.” He commands as you settle onto your elbows, balancing one leg on the handle of his desk drawer, giving him a pornographic view of your sex. “You’re wet.”

The way he says the words makes it sound like he’s a pious priest and you’re some kind of wanton harlot.

“I like it when you look at me.” You confess, feeling like a whore laid out on his desk with your shirt open and legs spread.

“If you get my desk wet you’re going to clean it with your tongue.”

Mother Fuck. You could probably cum just like this. You wouldn't even need to touch yourself. Just listening to him say shit like that would eventually be enough.

“Mr. Winchester.” Pepper’s voice scared you half to death as she hails him on his intercom. “Everyone’s on the call, they’re waiting for you.”

Sam looks at you, grabbing his cock through his pants. “Stay just like that, don’t move, don’t touch yourself. Just stay open for me. You understand.”

“Yes.” You nod slowly.

Then he picks up the desk phone and hops on a conference call as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

At first, he’s not talking much, just replying with little verbal cues, palming his cock through his pants. He rocks back his office chair, clicking the end of a pen with his thumb and staring at your pussy like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. Something on the call sparks his interest because he refocuses on his computer screen, launching into an in-depth explanation about the importance of procedure and process.

Your eyes are closed as you listen to his voice, legs beginning to shake as you keep yourself in the requested position. He’s not doing anything, he hasn’t come close to touching you, at the moment he’s not even looking in your direction, but it’s somehow one of the most sexual and arousing situations you’ve ever been in.

He called you up here to take out your tits, hike up your skirt and present yourself as a piece of erotic art.

The combination of humiliation and arousal has every part of your body on fire. Your nipples are rock hard, throbbing with every beat of your heart, just the same as your clit. You want to close your legs, rub your thighs together to get a small amount of relief. Concentration slipping your legs begin to fall closed and there’s an abrupt, hard smack on the inside of your knee, his open palm slapping your skin.

“Fuck,” you wheeze, mouth falling open.

The mark stings as you stare at him, watching him rub that same hand over his thigh. There’s a red handprint springing to life on your skin, and now it’s throbbing right along with the rest of all your sensitive bits. You tense up, clenching your cunt in desperation. If he had any question about how you’d respond he must know the answer now because you’re twice as wet as before.

He places a hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, “you’re not very good at following the rules.”

“I’m trying.” You whisper. There’s a tear running down your cheek. Perhaps it’s from his hand or maybe you’re just so fucking turned on that your body is responding in unfamiliar ways. More than anything you want him to touch you again, to bring this dormant need to life.

One of your hands leaves the desk and you almost touch yourself, squirming and writhing with little whimpers before you regain control of yourself. When you look at Sam he’s fixed on you like a hawk, eyes narrowing.

“I have to hop off for a few minutes.” He says evenly and hangs up the phone without ever looking away. “You’re not doing very well.”

“I just,” you gulp, unsure of what comes next. “I’m sorry.”

“Look at how wet you are.” He observes casually.

Reaching over he pulls open one of the drawers. Inside there’s a folded shirt and two ties. He pulls out one of the ties, rolling it neatly into a ball. He stands up, looming over you, stepping forward between your legs. “Open your mouth.”

You obey, dropping your jaw open. He firmly stuffs the tie in your mouth, effectively gagging you. You can’t help the desperate moan that gurgles up from your throat.

“Now, stand up and lean over the desk.”

You lock eyes for a moment before you comply, standing on shaky legs and bending forward until your belly is pressed against his weekly calendar.

“Arms up here, hands open, palms down.”

You stretch your arms up, spreading your fingers over the desk. The skirt is still around your waist, ass on full display.

“Spread your legs wider.”

You inch your legs part as far you can. This is a true feeling of utter vulnerability.

“Keep quiet. If you make too much noise someone will hear you.”

And with that, his hand comes down on your right butt cheek with a sickening smack that sends your entire body lurching forward. You’re grateful for the gag as you let out a muffled cry, summoning every ounce of self-control to stay in place.

There are three more in rapid succession, smack smack smack that sends you careening into a whole new world. It hurts, he’s spanking you hard enough his own hand must smart. All you can do is whimper into the gag, dragging your cheek along the hardwood of his desk.

The fifth spank is a quick, nasty slap directly on your bare pussy. It’s not a hard as the ones on your backside, but enough to send a spiral of pleasure and pain twisting up your spine as you groan and lift your head.

“You're so wet,” his words come out in quick bursts, he’s trying to hold himself together. “This desperate little cunt is drooling.”

He wipes a wet palm over the stinging skin of your ass and repeats his previous set. Four on your ass and one on your pussy. And then he does it again. And one more time after that.

When it’s over you’re sweating and crying, tears of frustration, pain and all-consuming arousal. You’re right on the edge, you just need him to touch you, all it would take is the brush of his fingers and you’d cum like a freight train.

“Puhhh,” you mumble against the gag, fingers clawing the desk.

“You want me to keep going?” He shifts behind you.

“Puhhh,” You can’t get out anything other than unintelligible sounds.

He spanks your pussy again, only this time it’s a lighter touch over your clit. One, two, three little wet whacks that are enough to send you over the edge. You cum, panting with a makeshift gag stuffed in your mouth, bent over his desk, writhing like a bitch in heat.

You're gasping with a cheek pressed into his notepad when you hear the gentle click of a cell phone camera. It’s followed by several more accompanied by Sam’s satisfied grunt.

“Stand up and turn around.” He commands calmly.

Still breathless, you push yourself up with shaking arms, almost losing your balance as you turn to face him. You rest your butt on the edge of the desk and wince. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week.

Expressionless, he reaches up, pulling the tie out of your mouth with a yank and throws it back into the open drawer as you close a sore jaw.

He carefully, methodically, reaches forward, the warm tips of his fingers brushing the skin of your breasts as he puts your bra back in place. Long nimble fingers button up your shirt, one by one. Then two big hands, pull your skirt back into place. “Come here.”

He places one hand gently on your shoulder, turning you to look into the mirror on the far wall. He’s standing behind you, looming like a giant. Your entire face is beet red, cheeks pink and tear-stained, eyes puffy and swollen. The slick between your legs is wet, cold and uncomfortable but a constant reminder of what just occurred.

Your breath finds an even pace while you stare at each other in the mirror.

“If you want this to continue we’re going to have to set some ground rules. Is this something you’re interested in?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing as his eyes study the reflection.

“Y-yes.” You can barely speak.

“It won’t ever be anything more than this, just transactional satisfaction. I’ll take what I want when I want it. You understand?”

“Yes.” You respond succinctly.

“Good.” He gives you one final look and steps away. “Sit down.”

He gestures toward the chair across from his desk. You gingerly take a seat, wondering if your ass is going to be black and blue. He scribbles something on a sticky note and hands it to you. It’s an address with no context.

“What is this?” You wipe at your cheeks as you clear your throat, finding composure.

“My personal physician. Be there tomorrow at 2:30. I’ll have an appointment scheduled for you.” He checks his phone, unhappy with whatever he reads and places it screen down on his desk.

“A doctor?”

“I don’t leave anything to chance.” He rests both forearms on his desk. “I don’t fuck with a condom. If you want to take this further, I have certain non-negotiables. I need to know you’re on birth control and that you’re clean.”

You thought you’d reached your capacity for shame but this is a whole new level. You almost choke, clutching both hands together in your lap.

“I-I’m on the pill.” It’s the only viable thought you can manage.

“That’s not good enough for me. You can understand why can’t you?” His fingers strum the files on his desk as he awaits your response.

You understand the logic, all you’d have to do is forget to take a pill or skip it on purpose if you wanted to. There’s the feminist part of your brain that wants to tell him to get fucked. He can’t order you around and assume you’re just going to do everything he wants. But there’s another part, a stronger part, that actually likes the idea of being controlled. It’s not like you can’t say no. You could walk out of this building and never look back. He’d let you go.

But offering your submission is your own version of control. You have to comply in order for this to work. It’s a two way street and you’re the one who gets the final say.

“I understand.” You nod, meeting his stare. “I’ll be there at 2:30.”

“You liked what I just did to you.” He cocks his head to the side. “Was it the pain or the humiliation that got you off?”

You gulp, refusing to look away. “Both.”

“You are interesting.” A smirk crossed his face. “We’re going to enjoy each other.”

“What else is there? You said you had non-negotiables, was it just the doctor?” You want to know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.

“You can’t ever tell another living soul about what happens between us.” He gets up from his chair and saunters around the desk, sitting on the edge, directly in front of you. “If you want me to stop, you tell me. But once we stop, we won’t continue. Ever. You understand?”

“Yes,” you nod, watching his fingers curl under the edge of the desk.

“You can’t fuck anyone else.”

“Alright.” You agree. The truth is you’d agree to just about anything to have him touch you again. But there is one term of your own that you need to outline. “What about you? If you expect me to let you...”

“Cum inside you?” His finishes, a hint of amusement in his voice as you blush for the hundredth time.

“Yes.” You choke out. “Then I have to be your only partner too.”

“Agreed.” He shrugs with an easy confirmation. You’re not sure its the response you expected but it wasn’t tacit acceptance.

“Good.” You breathe.

“Good.” He mimics, his eyes dropping over your body from head to toe. He leans back and taps the call button on his desk phone. Before you have time to prepare Pepper is bustling into the room.

“Everything alright in here?” She asks coming to stand beside the chair you're sitting in. She gets a look at your face and forces a smile at Sam. You’re just thankful she can’t see your ass.

“Y/N is going to be working on a special project for me.” He disregards her question, getting up to move back behind his desk.

“Special project?” She looks from you to Sam.

“Confidential.” Sam looks at you, locking eyes and refusing to look away. There’s a now familiar tingle between your legs. “I have an inquiry that I need to keep separate from our other work for proprietary reasons. Y/N has proven her ability to remain discreet. She’ll need access to the executive elevator and an all-hours, unrestricted security pass. I’ll let you know what else as the situation evolves.”

“Of course.” Pepper nods. “Anything else?”

“No. You’re both free to go.” He waves his hands, opening his laptop.

You get up, ready to follow Pepper out of the room but stop for a moment. “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Winchester.”

His eyes shoot up from the screen, mouth tightening. “I’m sure you’ll prove yourself.”

With one final look, you walk out of his office. This is surreal, you want to pinch yourself and slap your cheeks just to make sure you’re really awake.

“What the fuck was that?” Pepper hisses the minute the door is closed. “You look like a mess. With all the tears I thought he fired you. You’re lucky, he hates it when people cry.”

“Oh, um,” you stumble, looking for a suitable explanation. “He was...rough.”

“You have no idea.” She rolls her eyes. “What the hell happened at that conference? You said you noted everything and now he’s talking about your ability to be discreet and giving you work.”

“I can’t get into specifics. It’s sensitive.” One thing is clear, he’s never come on to her. She has no idea what’s going on behind closed doors, but that doesn’t surprise you. Sam has a reputation as a ruthless businessman but you’ve never heard so much as a peep about anything scandalous. And to be honest he’s the last person you would expect it from if it hadn’t happened to you.

“Well,” Pepper sighs, hands on hips. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself. God, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. He’s a terror to work for, trust me when I tell you that you’re not at all capable of meeting his expectations. You won’t last a week reporting to him.”

“I’m capable of more than you think.” You raise your eyebrows, emboldened by this new situation. Sex notwithstanding, reporting directly to Sam gives you a sliver of power, perhaps just enough that she’ll ease up.

“Just don’t come crying to me when he loses his temper.” She laughs dryly. “I’ll have your new credentials by the end of the day.”

And just like that, your entire life is about to change.

Parts Four and Five are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

Tags: @smallgirlbigpersonality @mereka18 @gryffindorable713 @trainlikeawinchester @winchesterprincessbride

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#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfic #tedtalk!sam #Sam winchester au

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golbrocklovely · 5 years ago

Text

twisted // colby brock - chapter one

A/N: NEW STORY!!! I’m so excited for yall to read this. It’s gonna be nothing like ‘only the lonely survive’, so I’m interested to see what you guys think. Please let me know what you think of this first chapter. I know it’s not much to go off of, but the next chapter really gets into the story, and is also 2000+ words long so its a bit of doozy lol HMU if you wanna be added to the taglist for this story so you know when it gets posted. Now, on with chapter one! :)

description of the story

trigger warning: cursing

word count: 1531

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know where I am. But I can feel something’s coming close to me. I see I’m surrounded by black smoke. I can’t see anything but it. It feels like it’s getting closer to me. I can barely breathe with it around me.

“Angel…” I hear it whisper to me.

I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I feel tears run down my cheeks.

“You’re in danger…” It whispers to me. Louder and deeper this time.

I open my mouth, but my voice is gone.

Everything grows silent. It’s too dark to see anymore.

“WAKE UP.”

I jolted awake, breathing fast and deep. My skin was damp, a cold sweat sitting on my chest. I feel like I just ran a marathon. I sighed, grabbing my phone to check the time.

10:33 A.M.

Time to go to work…

I grabbed my camera that was sitting at the end of my nightstand. I flipped the screen up, turning the camera on.

“Hey what’s up you guys. I literally just woke up. And guess what? I had another weird dream. Third night, or day, in a row. This was different but still fucking weird. So in it-“

I was cut off by a loud bang. I sat up quickly, glancing at my bedroom door.

“Yo, what the fuck was that noise? I swear, it sounds like something’s in my kitchen right now. I live alone, so what the hell was that?” I whispered to the camera.

I slowly inched myself out of my bed. I creep over to my door, putting my hand on the door knob.

“In case I don’t make it out alive, I love you guys.” I muttered, pointing the camera to my face, nodding slightly.

I counted to three, and swung the door fast, screaming at the top of my lungs.

“What the fuck?!” Colby yelled, dropping the water bottle in his hand on the floor.

I sighed, annoyed. “Colby! Why are you in my house?”

He grabbed his chest, close to his heart. “Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me!”

“You scared the shit out of me!” I yelled, “Why are you in my house?”

He took a deep breath, calming himself. “I was hungry.”

I rolled my eyes, pointing the camera back at me. “And this, kind viewers, is why you never give your best friend keys to your place. They’ll break in, make you think you’re gonna get murdered, and steal your food.”

He laughed, smiling widely. “I only break in because I care… about your food.”

I giggled back. “Shut the fuck up and make me breakfast.”

“Yes sir.” He smirked.

I shook my head and turned off the camera, placing it down on the counter. “Fuck you by the way.”

“What?” He exclaimed quietly.

I smacked his arm hard. “You could have given me a fucking heart attack. I thought someone broke in.”

He winced, grabbing his arm. “Why would you give me the spare key if you didn’t want me coming over whenever I wanted?”

“I gave it to you in case of emergency, not to come over to eat MY food.” I replied, grabbing cereal out of my cabinet and placing it in front of Colby.

He shrugged, grabbing it and getting a bowl. “Somehow your food always tastes better.”

“Probably because you don’t pay for it.” I mumbled, opening the fridge.

“Maybe…” He poured the cereal into his bowl, heading towards my dining room table.

“Besides, you can’t just show up whenever without giving me a heads up. What if I was walking around naked?” I took the milk from the fridge, only to have him take it from my hand.

He put his lips close against my ear, his other hand resting on my waist. “I pray for that everyday…”

He pulled away, slightly chuckling and walking back to the table. I rolled my eyes, holding back the shiver that ran through my body.

It’s way too early for this…

“Whatever. I’m gonna go take a shower.” I stated.

“Can I join?” Colby smirked, turning to me.

I smirked back. “In your dreams…”

He scoffed jokingly and turned back to his cereal. I walked to my bathroom, shutting the door quietly. I took a deep breath, trying to relax myself as I slowly slid my clothes off and started the water.

To describe mine and Colby’s relationship is… strange to say the least. How we met is less complicated though. I moved out to Los Angeles from the small, unknown town of Dorney, Arizona back in 2014. I started a youtube account shortly after, slowly gaining some popularity. Then one day, two boys moved in next door to me.

And the rest is (somewhat) history.

The boys and I have been friends for years. They are two of the only people I trust. Two of the only people that know everything about me. And I them.

But mine and Colby’s relationship has always been a bit different.

For one thing, we always flirt with each other. Which has caused a lot of ~drama~ in both our fandoms. Most fans believe we are secretly dating, but that’s not the case.

As much as I wish it was.

I’ve always had feelings for Colby. The moment I met him, I knew I was gonna love him forever. He just has that hold on me. But I could never tell him. I’ve ruined too many friendships with guys because I grew to have feelings for them, but they never did for me. I’ve kept my feelings to myself the whole time. Sam’s the only person that knows I like Colby. He kind of figured it out on his own.

He has told me before that Colby has feelings for me, but I don’t believe him. Colby is mostly straight-forward with girls, and he has never said a thing to me about his feelings. I think our relationship is best left as a friendship and nothing else.

I would hate to lose him. Or Sam. That’s my worst nightmare.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel and dried my body off. I wrapped the towel around me and looked at myself in the slightly, fogged-up mirror. The towel fell to just underneath my butt.

Maybe I should show Colby what he’s missing.

I opened the door to my bathroom, smirking. Colby was on his phone, reading a message from someone. He looked deep in thought.

“Whatcha reading?” I asked, slowly walking up to him.

“Sam and I are setting up the next place we want to go explore and we got this message from a fan about a haunted bed-and-breakfast.” He replied, still staring at his phone.

I stood there for a moment, glaring at the back of his head.

He’s never gonna look at me, is he?

“That sounds cool. Is it just the two of you going or are the roommates heading with you guys?” I questioned, walking into my room and leaving the door open.

“Well, we wanted to bring Jake and Corey but both of them are busy this week,” He explained. “Sam was thinking if you’re not too busy, do you want to go?”

I shrugged, pulling my clothes on for the day. “Wait, where is it at?”

“Up in Washington. According to the fan that sent us the information, the bed-and-breakfast is known as one of the creepiest places in all of Washington. It was on an episode of Ghost Hunters so you know it’s somewhat legit.” He informed, his voice coming from right outside my room.

“You can come in you know.” I insisted, turning to see him standing at my door with his back to it.

His shoulders dropped as he turned around, “I thought I would be nice and not barge in while you’re getting dressed.”

“You being nice? To me? Are you starting another prank war?” I smirked, crossing my arms.

“I’m always nice to you. I just show it by eating your food.” He responded, laying down on my bed.

“And making fun of the boys I date.” I teased, sitting down next to him.

He groaned. “Hey, your last boyfriend was a dick. What was his name? Ray, Rob, R-“

“His name was Ryan, thank you very much.” I retorted.

“Anyway, are you down to go to Washington with us?”

“I don’t know…”

“Please.” He rested his head and hand against my thigh, looking up at me. He jutted out his bottom lip.

He shouldn’t be allowed to be this cute.

I smiled jokingly. “Only because I hate seeing you beg.”

He sat up quickly, beaming. “It’ll be fun. We’re gonna change things up this time and actually stay at the bed-and-breakfast for a couple days, instead of just overnight.”

“When do we leave?” I asked.

“Tomorrow.” He deadpanned.

I laughed. “Did you buy my ticket knowing I was gonna come with you?”

He paused. “Yes.”

“What if I said no?” I questioned, crossing my arms.

“I guess I would have had to kidnap you.” He shrugged and smiled.

I chuckled back. “I’m gonna ask for the key to my apartment back now.”

|| CHAPTER 2 >>

#colby brock #Sam and Colby #sam golbach #colby brock x oc #colby brock story #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fluff #colby brock fic #twisted

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