#and then they became rly good friends like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

star-girl69 · 10 months ago

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Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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doctorbitchcrxft · 4 months ago

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Born Under a Bad Sign | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: mentions of religious trauma, mentions of smut, dean’s self-esteem is rly bad :(, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 6130

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You and Sam had always been close friends, but you became even more like siblings after your last hunt. He seemed to understand you on a deeper level after you described your battle with religion to him. You understood him and his praying practices, and you were happy he was able to find some peace through it. You’d always bonded before over cult classic movies and your shared love of learning, but you were grateful to get to know him more than just on the surface level.

Your relationship with Dean was changing, too. You knew it scared him a bit; it scared you, too. But you were grateful that you had him in your life. You’d never cared for someone before the way you cared about him. However, the two of you left that part unspoken and let your bodies speak for themselves.

Dean visited your motel room more and more frequently after Sam fell asleep at night. You knew Sam had some clue as to what was going on between you and his brother, but he hadn’t prodded into your relationship much. For that, you were thankful.

Most of the time, Dean wasn’t even coming to your room for sex. He genuinely just wanted to be close to you or talk to you. The simple intimacy of sitting on the floor and playing a few rounds of Rummy or lying in bed and holding each other close while you talked about the most mundane things was almost better than sex for you. Your life was revolving less around hunting and more around Dean, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about that.

That was, at least, until Sam went missing.

When Dean noticed Sam was gone, he was leaving your room after staying the night with you. He burst back into the room, saying, “(Y/N), get dressed, Sam’s gone.”

“What?” You jumped up, pulling jeans on. “Whaddaya mean ‘gone’?”

“I mean he’s gone, (Y/N). He’s gone,” he responded gruffly, raking a hand through his hair.

“Wait, are you sure he didn’t just go out for coffee or something?” you questioned, trying to calm him down.

“No, dude, it’s ten A.M.,” he replied.

“Okay, well let’s call him,” you said. You pressed your phone to your ear only to find it went straight to voicemail.

“Dammit!” Dean could tell by the look on your face what happened.

*** “Dean, you really need to sleep,” you urged. His eyes had bags hanging under them and his hair was a mess from the number of times he’d run his hand over it. You couldn’t get him to sleep for more than a few hours the previous night when his body finally gave out.

You’d spent three days thus far looking for Sam and driving all over the country looking for him. You tried tracking his phone, but you had no luck. In fact, the reason why was because he’d left his phone in the Impala. Bobby and Ellen hadn’t seen or heard from him, either.

“(Y/N), I’m fine, dammit,” Dean responded harshly.

“I’m not gonna put up with you being a dick just because you’re stressed,” you shot back. “I’m worried about Sam, too. But you’re no good to him so sleep-deprived that you can’t tell your right from your left. I’m gonna start drugging you if you don’t go to bed voluntarily.”

He blinked at you, seeming curious about the last part of your statement.

“I’m kidding,” you said, pausing momentarily. “Maybe.”

He thought about your words for a minute. “Fine,” he murmured.

“Sorry? What was that?” you asked, half-mockingly.

“You heard me,” he grumbled back.

You conceded, giggling a little.

“Don’t let me sleep any more than five hours,” he told you as you pushed him toward the bed in your motel room.

“I’m not.” You were lying, though, and you had no doubt Dean picked up on that.

“(Y/N)—” he warned.

“Okay, okay. Fine. Just go to bed, asshole,” you told him, finally shoving him back on the bed.

About twenty minutes later, you’d readied for bed and headed over to Dean’s sleeping form. You sat on the bed across from him, and you brushed your hand over his hair. He breathed out contentedly, subconsciously relaxing under your touch. You smiled softly to yourself and crawled into bed next to him. You did your best not to disturb him while you got comfortable.

Fully settled, you took in his sculpted features. There were very few times you had seen Dean at peace even in his sleep, and this was not one of those times. You knew his sleep was necessary, but it was clear by the tension in his face that it was not going to be the most rested sleep in the world for him.

Even in the midst of this awful situation, there was a nagging want in your heart for Dean. You knew neither of you were in a position for a real relationship, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want one. In fact, you knew you were beginning to fall hopelessly in love with him.

‘Fuck. I do love him,’ you thought. ‘Damnit, I am so fucked.’

“Hey, stop,” Dean muttered. “Stop!” he said, voice stronger this time.

“Dean?” you asked quietly, sitting up on your elbow.

“Fuck, stop it!” Dean cried. “Leave him alone!”

‘Oh, god, he’s gotta be dreaming about Sam,’ you thought. You began shaking him to try and wake him up.

“No, no!” he screamed, writhing under you.

“Dean!” You shook him harder.

He lurched up, grabbing your wrist and flipping you on your back. He pinned your wrist above your head.

You and Dean breathed heavily in each other’s faces, yours and Dean’s adrenaline pumping. When he realized what he was doing, he immediately let go of you.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry—” Dean began.

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, gently grabbing your hands to begin to inspect your wrists for injuries.

You let him hold your hands, assuring him, “No, no! I’m okay, really. See?”

He was silent while he caught his breath, unable to look at you. You put your hand on his cheek and guided his face up gently to make him look at you. “Dean. I’m fine. I’m not upset.”

You could see tears forming in his eyes which was likely the reason he looked away. He pulled away from you and once looked down once more. You grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly to reassure him. “I know you’re upset, but you gotta go back to bed, okay? We’re no good to Sam when we’re tired zombies,” you attempted to joke.

He said nothing, but he did lay back down with you. He turned in your hold to let you wrap your arms around his stomach and run your hands up his bare chest. You pressed kisses to the back of his shoulders, and his breathing evened out.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

It caught your attention, and you pulled his shoulder to get him to turn to you. He allowed you to roll him onto his back, and you propped yourself up on your elbow to look down at him. “Don’t ever let me hear you say that again,” you chastised as gently as you possibly could. You knew aggravation was seeping through your tone, though not at him. “I know you won’t believe me if I tell you, but you do.”

“(Y/N)—”

“No. Don’t. You are—” you cut yourself off, consistently shocked by how lowly Dean thought of himself. “I mean, I care about you. A lot. You know that.”

He nodded.

“Then why can’t you believe you’re deserving of me? I’m here, aren’t I?” you asked rhetorically. “That’s not a mistake. If anything, I feel undeserving of you.”

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Why?”

“See? See how ridiculous that sounds?”

Dean eyed you for a moment. “I see what you did there.”

You smiled, but soon returned to seriousness. “Seriously. I care about you. A lot. For… a number of reasons. I can’t believe you think you don’t deserve me. I mean, you’re Dean fucking Winchester. You— you’re so strong. You’re really just… impressive as a human being. You’re smart, and funny, and— Jesus Christ— so fucking handsome. And— hmm!”

Dean cut you off by pulling you down to him and kissing you roughly. This kiss was different than others you’d shared before. It was passionate and kind all at once, and it was clear how hungry you were for each other. When you broke the kiss, the two of you pecked each other one final time before simply resting your foreheads together.

“I was talking,” you said, breathless.

He chuckled; one that rumbled deep in his chest. “Needed to kiss you, though.”

“Oh, shut up, you just didn’t wanna listen to me talk about you anymore,” you replied playfully.

“Oh, no, I was definitely enjoying that,” he snarked.

“Sure, Jan,” you laughed. You leaned down to kiss him once more before settling back down against him.

A few minutes passed before Dean found the courage to speak again. “Hey, can you, um—”

“Spit it out, Dean, I’m tired,” you said sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Just— Nevermind.”

“No, what?” you asked, head perking up. “C’mon, what?”

“Can you… spoon me again?”

You smiled, nodding excitedly. “That’s so cute.”

“Aw, shut up,” he muttered, rolling away from you.

“I’m serious!” you said, peppering kisses along his shoulders. “I like that you let me hold you. Most guys wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he murmured, stroking your arm that was wrapped around his chest with his thumb.

You giggled, kissing his shoulder again. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“G’night, sweetheart.”

***

You spent the next several days searching for Sam. A week had passed with no word from him.

You leaned against the car next to a fidgeting Dean, hands in your pockets and staring at the ground.

“Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him?” Dean asked into his phone. “I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here… No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone.” His phone beeped. “Hang on,” he told Ellen.

You could see “Sam’s cell” appearing on the screen of Dean’s phone. Your posture straightened as Dean answered the phone. “Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?... Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? Alright, don't move, I'm on my way.”

***

You burst through the door of the room Sam told Dean he was in to find Sam sitting completely motionless, staring blankly ahead.

“Sam? Hey,” Dean said, moving over to him.

“Hey, guys,” he said numbly.

You kneeled down in front of him, and Dean took the opposite side. “Are you bleeding?” you asked him, noting the blood covering his abdomen and knuckles.

Sam couldn’t look at you. “I tried to wash it off.”

Dean mumbled, “Oh, my god,” upon noticing his younger brother’s shirt.

“I don't think it's my blood,” Sam murmured.

“Whose is it?” Dean questioned.

“I don’t know.”

“Sam, what happened?” you questioned gently.

He looked up at you. “I— I don’t remember anything.”

***

You found out Sam had checked into that motel a few days ago, had been smoking, stealing liquor from gas stations, and discovered a bloody knife in the back of a car he’d stolen. Your mind reeled at why Sam could’ve possibly done this. He was not this kind of person, and yet, you were beginning to get a little afraid of him. Is this what the yellow-eyed demon was going to turn him into?

Sam seemed more shaken than you or Dean did, and your heart ached for the poor guy. You couldn’t imagine not understanding what was happening to your own mind and body. He said he couldn’t remember anything beyond a diner you stopped at in West Texas; over a week ago and right before he went missing.

Night fell as Dean drove down the highway the gas station attendant had pointed you toward, saying Sam drove off this way.

“What's going on with you, Sam? Hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like me than you,” Dean quipped.

You weren’t sure what was more shocking; Sam smoking menthols like a chimney and chucking a bottle of liquor at a gas station attendant, or the fact that he couldn’t remember the last week.

Suddenly, the younger brother perked up. “Dean, wait, right here. Turn down that road.”

“What?”

“I don't know how I know, I just do.”

Dean complied and turned down a back road onto a private property. Surrounding the house were emergency flood lights and security cameras capturing every possible angle of the home.

“Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises,” Sam noted as the three of you approached the house. You were surprised the flood lights hadn’t come on yet.

“Should we knock?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said.

You poked your head around the corner of the house while the boys talked. You quirked your head in confusion at the sight of broken glass covering the porch beneath a shattered window. “Hey guys?”

They came over to you, and you waved your flashlight around the window.

“I'm surprised the cops didn't show. Place like this you'd think it'd have an alarm,” Dean commented.

Sam found a disabled alarm on the wall. “Yeah, you would.”

“What the fuck, man,” you muttered. You were the first to crawl into the house through the shattered window. Glass crunched beneath your boots when they hit the floor, and you waved your flashlight around the room to find turned over chairs, knocked over lamps, and broken picture frames. You shot a concerned look back at the boys before you followed the trail of displaced items to a back office. You nearly tripped over a body lying on the floor in the dark. You yelped in surprise, and Dean caught your arm before you could fall.

“Hit the lights,” he told his brother. You could hear the apprehension in his voice.

When the lights came on, you knelt next to the body. The middle-aged man was slumped on the floor on his side, and you turned him over to reveal his deeply cut throat. You put a hand over your mouth, and shot a worried glance at Dean. Dean’s eyes were on the body, widened in horror.

“I did this,” Sam breathed out.

“We don’t know that,” Dean immediately responded.

“What else do you need?” Sam scoffed. “I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood—”

You got up from the floor. “Sam, I don’t know, man, but this just doesn’t seem—” You ran a hand through your hair and turned away from him.

“Look, even if you did do this I'm sure you had a reason, you know; self-defense, uh, he was, he was a bad son of a bitch, something!” Dean was still crouched on the floor, and he patted the body down. “He doesn't have any ID.”

“I need your lockpick,” Sam said.

You and Dean eyed him strangely. “What?”

“I need your lockpick,” he repeated. He took it and opened a double door closet inside the room. It revealed another room lined wall to wall in newspaper clippings, maps, and weapons.

“Holy shit,” you murmured.

“Either this guy's a Unabomber—” Dean began.

Sam cut him off. “Or a hunter. I think I killed a hunter.”

You looked up at a security camera in the corner of the room. “Let’s find out.” Dean had taken the SD card out of the security camera and handed it over to you. You cracked the password on the man’s computer and opened the file attached to the SD card. You went back in the footage to the day before Sam checked into the motel room, and your hand flew to your mouth.

Sam was dragging the struggling man behind the desk and propped him up against himself before slitting his throat.

Dean inhaled sharply. “How do you erase this? Huh?” he questioned you.

“Already on it,” you said.

“I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him,” Sam murmured.

“Listen to me. Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?” Dean said frantically.

Sam picked something up off the desk next to you while you continued working on the computer. “His name was Steve Wandell. This is a letter from his daughter.”

Suddenly, Dean grabbed the computer off the desk in front of you, slamming it to the ground beside you, making you jump. He stomped it to bits for good measure, breathing raggedly.

“Start wipin’ down your prints,” he said, handing you and Sam rags. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You and Sam were still too in shock to process what was going on. It dawned on you then that you may actually have to kill Sam. You couldn’t live with yourself if it came to that.

***

You and the brothers returned to Sam’s motel room to regroup, get some sleep, and take off before anyone could discover what Sam had done. Your mind was reeling with the possibility of having to put Dean’s brother down. You would never forgive yourself, and you knew Dean wouldn’t either.

“Alright, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror,” Dean asserted.

Sam remained motionless near the door.

“Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something!” Dean pleaded.

The younger brother’s shoulders were slumped, and his sad eyes turned up to Dean. “Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did.”

Dean seemed to search for words for a moment. “Maybe.”

Sam scoffed.

“Okay? Hey, we don't know... shapeshifter!”

“Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion—”

Dean turned away from Sam. “Yeah, but it wasn't you! Alright? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you.”

Sam sat down on the bed. “Well, I think it was. I think maybe more than you know.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean grunted.

“For the last few weeks I've been having... I've been having these feelings.”

“What feelings?” you questioned, crouching to the ground in front of him while Dean continued to fume.

“Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it.” Sam couldn’t lift his gaze to you. “It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” you asked as gently as you could.

“I didn't want to scare you.”

“Well, bang-up job on that,” Dean quipped.

“Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before, too.”

The older brother turned around, eyes blazing. “No one can control you but you.

“It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm, I'm just becoming—” he trailed off, swallowing down his emotion.

“What?”

“Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself. I gotta face up to who I am,” Sam continued.

Dean threw his arms up. “I didn’t mean this!”

The brunet’s eyes got teary. “But it's still true. You know that. Dad knew that too. That's why he told you, if it ever came to this…”

“Sam, stop it,” you begged.

“You promised me, (Y/N),” Sam said sadly. “You promised.”

Dean crossed the room to you in a flash. “No. Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?”

“Yeah, there is.” Sam took a handgun from the duffel bag resting on the bed beside him and shoved it into your hand. “I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you two.”

You jumped back from Sam, and for the first time ever, holding a gun felt uncomfortable and foreign to you.

“You won't,” Dean argued. “Whatever this is, you can fight it.”

“No. I can't. Not forever. (Y/N), you gotta do it.” Tears pooled in Sam’s eyes. He stared at you, pleading evident within his gaze.

You looked down at the gun and back at Sam.

“(Y/N), I swear, if you do this—”

“I know, Dean!” You looked up at Sam shakily. “I don’t wanna do this.”

Sam nodded. “I know.”

You looked between a torn Dean and resigned Sam. You shook your head and dropped the gun. “I can’t.”

Dean sighed in relief, and Sam stood. You shouldered past him toward the door of the room to get some air.

“That’s too bad,” you heard Sam say behind you, his voice suddenly sending a chill down your spine. The next thing you heard was Dean grunting, and you wheeled around to see him drop to the floor. Sam loomed over you next, and you tried your best to fight him off. However, you knew it was pointless. The pistol he’d given you whipped across your face powerfully, and the world went black.

***

The next time you came to, an incessant knocking was filling your ears. You heard Dean groaning a few feet away from you, and you suddenly remembered what happened.

The motel manager opened the door. “Hey. It's past your checkout.”

“What?” Dean questioned groggily.

“It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here needs your room.” The manager gestured to an embarrassed businessman with a hooker standing behind him.

Dean grumbled, “Yeah, I'll bet they do. What time is it?”

“Twelve-thirty.”

“That guy who was with us, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he left before dawn in your car, and you should have gone with him, because now I'm gonna have to charge you extra.”

“Oh, son of a…” Dean muttered.

“It's just policy, sir.”

“We need to use your computer,” you spoke up.

The manager folded his arms. “Now, why would I let you use my computer?” *** The manager counted the stack of cash you and Dean scrounged up to pay him off for letting you two use his computer.

Your mind raced as Dean tracked his brother down on the phone with their cellular provider. What was wrong with Sam? Was this really who he was now? Who could he have possibly been going to see and why? Could he have killed another hunter? Could you have stopped it if you just pulled the trigger? Did you do the right thing?

Dean’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “(Y/N), we gotta go. Duluth, Minnesota.”

***

You and Dean drove hours in silence. Dean surprisingly hadn’t put on one of his many cassette tapes to fill the silence. Your heart in your throat and breathing labored, you were finally brave enough to offer your hand to him. You couldn’t look at him, afraid he’d maybe be angry with you or wouldn’t need your comfort, but you kept your hand on the seat between you all the same. Finally, he joined his with yours and squeezed tightly. Neither of you said a word or looked at each other, but you kept each other grounded in your completely unfathomable situation.

When you arrived at the bar you’d tracked Sam to in Duluth, you and Dean grabbed flasks of holy water from the trunk and your handguns from Dean’s glovebox; although you knew you couldn’t use the latter on Sam.

You could hear Sam talking, but you couldn’t quite tell what he was saying or who he was talking to through the door of the bar. On Dean’s count of three, the two of you burst through the door with your guns ready.

“Sam!” Dean yelled.

You noticed the person he’d been talking to was a tied-up and gagged Jo, and Sam took a knife from above her on the post she was tied to and held it to her throat. His calm expression shifted to one of desperate panic, and you suddenly realized what was happening.

“I begged you to stop me, Dean,” Sam cried.

“Put the knife down, dammit,” Dean ordered.

“I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You'd be doing me a favor! Shoot me,” Sam ordered. He turned to you and Dean, arms spread. “Shoot me, (Y/N)! Please!”

You glanced at Jo out of the corner of your eye. “Sam, come on, dude!”

Dean turned away, lowering his gun.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam spat. “Are you seriously gonna let Jo die?” Sam went to approach his brother, but Dean turned suddenly and flicked holy water at his brother from his flask. The water hissed and steamed when it made contact with Sam’s skin.

“You son of a bitch!” you screamed, rushing at Sam. Sam’s eyes turned black and he threw you off him and into a table behind you. You cried out as your back made contact with the table and chairs, and you collapsed to the floor in a heap. You raised your head to see Sam bursting through a window and Dean cutting Jo free. You got back to your feet painfully and grabbed your gun, sprinting after Sam.

“(Y/N)!” you heard Dean call as you leapt out of the window. He soon caught up to you as you ran down the dock toward a warehouse. You knew that was where Sam— well, the demon— had gone given the swinging of its doors. You and Dean flanked either side of the door before bursting through the warehouse, pressed back to back and scanning the room. You then crouched next to him when you heard wood creak a few yards away.

“So who are you?” Dean called.

“I got lots of names,” Sam replied. His voice was quite far off.

“You've been in Sam since he disappeared, haven't you?” you spat.

“You shoulda seen your face when you thought he murdered that guy. Pathetic,” the demon called back.

“Why didn't you kill us? You had a dozen chances,” Dean replied. He motioned for you to follow him behind a tall stack of boxes to find better cover.

“Nah, that would have been too easy. Where's the fun in that? You see, this was a test. Wanted to see if I could push you or your girlfriend far enough to waste Sam. Should've known you two wouldn't have the sack. Anyway. Fun's over now,” Sam bitterly informed you.

“Well, I hope you got your kicks. 'Cause you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that,” Dean growled.

“How? You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your little brother.”

Dean put his gun away, opting for the holy water flask in his jacket. You kept your gun drawn.

“See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You and every other hunter I can find. One look at Sam's dewey, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right in their door,” the demon laughed. You heard the back door of the warehouse open, and you and Dean quickly followed. When you reached the dock, you barely had time to register Sam standing several feet away with a gun drawn before two shots fired off; one hitting Dean and the other grazing your arm. You tumbled to the dock below from the impact, and you were knocked out cold yet again from the eight-foot drop.

***

You could just barely make out the conversation happening around you as you began to come-to from the second time you’d been knocked out by Sam. You were lying on something hard with something soft under your head, but you couldn’t quite open your eyes to figure out what was going on.

“Don't be a baby!” you heard Jo say.

“God!” Dean groaned.

You wanted to move to help him, but you still couldn’t open your eyes or move.

“Almost. Alright, got it. Got it,” Jo announced.

You heard glass clinking before Dean grunted, “God, you’re a butcher. Should’ve let (Y/N) patch me up when she comes-back-to.”

Jo scoffed. “You're welcome.”

“Alright, are we done?”

“Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death.”

“You should be payin’ more attention to (Y/N). She’s the one out cold with a bleeding head.”

‘Oh. My head’s bleeding?’ you thought. Suddenly, you could feel the blood trickling down your face. You slowly began to recognize the dim light coming from the room around you, and realized you were probably back in the bar you’d found Jo and Sam in.

“So, how did you know? That he was possessed?” Jo asked Dean.

“Uh, ah, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been him.”

Jo paused for a moment, seeming hesitant to speak again. “Hey, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I know demons lie, but... do they ever tell the truth, too?”

“Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head.” He paused as you began to writhe around on the floor. “Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. Doesn't matter. So do you have any idea where he's headed to next?”

You groaned, catching Dean’s attention. “Sweetheart?”

Your heart fluttered at the name despite the throbbing in your head, arm, and back. You moaned again, shifting uncomfortably.

When you opened your eyes, Dean was above you. “You there? You okay?"

“Dee,” you smiled groggily.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m here.” He slipped a hand under your shoulders and the other under your knees. “C’mon, we gotta go find Sammy.”

“Okay,” you said, still not fully aware of what was going on.

“Wait, Dean, let me—” Jo tried.

“No, I got her,” he responded. He began to carry you toward the door.

“Where we goin’, then?” Jo asked.

“You're not coming,” he replied simply.

Jo’s voice rose. “The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now.”

“I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow us, and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is our fight,” he said firmly. “I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be.”

A few moments of silence passed, and Dean began walking again. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

In your heart, you knew he wouldn’t. You’d call Jo and thank her for helping you and Dean.

You finally had full cognitive function back when Dean got you to the car. He gingerly reached out to your still bleeding head wound. He sucked in air through his teeth. “I’m gonna patch you up, okay?”

You nodded.

He immediately set to work. “Hey, uh—” he paused, seeming to search for what he needed to say, “—what was that… concussion-check-thing you did on me? Back when we dealt with that freaky ass scarecrow?”

You grinned at the memory. “I don’t think you need to check, Dean, I definitely have a concussion,” you said.

“I still wanna see how bad it is,” he told you.

“It’s not awful,” you said. “But I’ll be down for the count for a bit.”

You were suddenly wide awake when you felt hydrogen peroxide hitting your arm where Sam’s bullet grazed you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I’m not,” you admitted.

Dean finished patching up the wound on your head, a comfortable silence settling between you. “Thanks for not shooting my brother,” he mumbled.

You snorted. “Yeah, of course.”

He paused again. “Why didn’t you?”

You considered before responding truthfully. “Couldn’t live with myself if I did. Couldn’t live with myself if you hated me.”

He searched your eyes before slowly leaning in to kiss you. You leaned in, too, stretching your neck up to meet his lips. His kiss was gentle and conveyed everything the two of you couldn’t say verbally.

“Alright, c’mon, we gotta go get Sam,” Dean said. “He’s goin’ to Bobby’s.” ***

“Stay here,” Dean told you. He left the windows rolled down on the Impala to keep some air moving through it while he went into Bobby’s house to confront Sam.

You went to protest, but your aching limbs proved to you that you would be completely useless.

Dean chuckled at you as you wordlessly settled back into your chair. “Atta girl.”

Minutes felt like hours as you waited for Dean to emerge from the house. You knew Bobby was smart enough to figure out Sam was possessed and had likely ensnared him in a Devil’s Trap. Still, that didn’t stop you from worrying about your boys.

A cool breeze carried Dean’s scream of agony through the car, and you immediately jumped to your feet despite the protesting in your back and head. Your vision nearly whited out when you stood up, and the light of day was too bright for you. Still, you were fueled by the thought of Dean being hurt and stumbled your way into Bobby’s house. When you finally made it inside, Dean and Sam were lying on the floor, each writhing in pain, and Bobby was holding a hot poker.

“I thought I told you to stay in the car, (Y/N),” Dean groaned.

“I thought—” you cut yourself off. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but you look like hell,” Bobby told you.

You laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Bobby then made you lie down on his couch and you threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light. You heard Sam and Dean patching each other up, and Bobby asked a question that caught your attention. “You kids ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?”

“Why do you ask?” Dean replied.

“Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that.” You could tell what Bobby was meaning from his tone.

“No, sir, never heard of the guy,” Dean said before Sam could.

“Good,” Bobby stated firmly. “Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?”

“We better hit the road,” Dean said. “We should get (Y/N) one of those fancy sleep mask things for her to sleep in the car.”

“How ‘bout just a pair of sunglasses, Dean,” you deadpanned. You could hear Sam chuckling as footsteps approached; you could tell they belonged to the older brother.

“Here. Take these.” You weren’t sure what Bobby was referring to given you refused to take your hand off your face for even a second.

“What are they?” Sam questioned.

“Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya.”

“That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks.” Dean’s chest rumbled against you as he spoke, and you relaxed into his hold.

“You're welcome. You kids be careful now. And (Y/N), take care of yourself.”

You made a thumbs-up gesture in Bobby’s general direction without uncovering your eyes, earning a chuckle from all three men.

***

You slept most of the drive in the backseat. You were in and out of consciousness and couldn’t quite string together the conversations Sam and Dean were having. However, you paid close attention to their latest interaction.

“I was awake for some of it, Dean,” said Sam. “I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes.”

“That must have been awful,” the older brother replied.

“That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot. Neither would she,” Sam noted.

“It was the right move, Sam. It wasn't you,” Dean argued.

“Yeah, this time. What about next time?”

“Sam, when Dad told me... that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you.”

You loved how much Dean cared about his little brother.

Dean laughed softly after a moment.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Dude, you— you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week.” He laughed again, as did Sam. “That's pretty naughty.”

You smiled to yourself as sleep claimed you once more.

***

Somewhere between state lines, you and the Winchesters were stopped to rest at a motel. Thoughts swam in your head as you thumbed the amulet Bobby had given the three of you for protection from future possessions. Suddenly, you slapped lightly against your forehead.

"Guys!" you exclaimed.

Both brothers startled.

"Tattoos!" You stood excitedly.

"Sweetheart, what are you—"

You began to pace around. "I've been tryin' to think of a way to make these amulets more permanent. How 'bout tattoos?"

Sam hesitated, but nodded eventually. "You're a genius. Why didn't I think of that?"

" 'Cause I'm smarter than you." You playfully stuck your tongue out at them.

And so, the three of you set off to find a tattoo parlor. Each of you got the amulet's symbol tattooed on you; the boys on their chests, and you on your hip. Dean was very clearly excited about the placement of the piece.

"Control yourself, please," you scolded while the artist worked.

"Tryin'," Dean replied.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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heartsoji · 2 years ago

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falling in love with your roommate, suna rintaro

roommates to lovers

a/n: i haven't read the manga so i don't rly know anything abt rin's fam situation - sorry if any info is incorrect loll also this is more of like a college au?? idk if rin went to college but here it is

a/n pt. 2: i kinda switch between using rin and suna sorry

"rintaro!"

"what?"

"aren't you tired of living in my home, still? you're 21! i'm sure all of your friends have moved out already, right? most of them probably moved out at 18, but you haven't budged an inch!" mrs. suna scolded.

"yeah, yeah, pipe down, mom. i'll move out soon, i promise."

"no! it was fine that you stayed home for your freshman year of college, and i thought that you'd start being independent for your sophomore year, but you're still completely dependent on us! you don't cook, buy groceries, clean, or do any work around here! what are you going to do when you've graduated and you don't know how to run a washing machine?"

"yes, yes, i'm sorry."

"and i was very understanding of the fact that you didn't want to move into a dorm, but aren't you tired of commuting hours away when you could just get a closer apartment?"

"mhm, mhm."

she sighed. "rintaro, you know im only saying this because i care about you. i want you to be independent and strong, you know?"

"yep. i just booked an apartment tour via online."

"and i- huh?"

yeah.

soon after he decided the apartment was in good enough condition to be living in, he rented it out and moved in.

on his moving day, he met you.

"hi! you're.. suna rintaro, right? sorry i wasn't there on your tour day. i'm your new roommate, l/n! nice to meet you." you said, a friendly smile on your features.

stoically, suna replied, "good to meet you."

at first, you and suna kinda kept to yourselves. you were polite to each other, of course, but there wasn't much talking, only coexisting.

that is, until you discovered his grocery bills.

"$18... you've been surviving on $18?!" you looked at him in shock.

"yeah. is that weird?"

"damn right it is! what are you even buying?"

"well.. i don't know how to cook anything, so i mostly order door dash. my grocery bill is from instant ramen, chuppets, eggs, and milk."

you stare at him blankly.

"you've been eating nothing but door dash, instant ramen, candy, eggs, and milk for the past 2 months?"

"yeah."

this guy.

he just stands there awkwardly at you laugh at him.

from then on, you two become closer.

you taught him basic recipes to make using groceries you taught him to buy, (imagine his shock when his bill came out to be like $60.. and you were like "bro that's normal") you taught him how to use a washing machine, ("oh, so you put the detergent in this compartment..") etc. just basic household chores, but he was so impressed.

eventually, you two stopped being friendly roommates and just became friends.

he was a good listener. you'd rant to him about your problems, no matter how insignificant, and he'd listen to you carefully, and you never felt like your problems were stupid whenever you talked to him.

you two started hanging out a lot. you'd study together at cafes, go to amusement parks on weekends, and just chill at home together.

and as much as you hated to admit it, you had started developing feelings for your roomie.

i mean, how could you not? he was tall, handsome, kind, funny, cheeky, and it certainly helped that you got to see him all tired in the mornings.

you didn't really know if he felt the same way, but if he did, he was a real bitch, because at some point, your relationship became kind of flirty, and he'd give you butterflies on a daily basis.

you two would watch scary movies and he'd let you cling to him, giving your terrified features a teasey smile every now and then.

he'd walk around the apartment with his toned abs out, and his sweats dangerously low on his hips.

when you guys went on walks, he'd give you his hoodie if it got cold.

whenever you'd go on long rants, he'd just stare at your face with love in his eyes. "and then i-what is it, rin?" "nothing, pretty."

like sir you can't just do that. you're too handsome to do that without risk of heart explosion.

then, one day, unexpectedly, he popped the question.

you two were watching a cheesy romcom for the 5th time, sharing a pot of instant ramen, and at the same moment that the male lead said to the female lead, "i like you. a lot. i have for a while now," rin did too.

it wasn't grand.

it wasn't loud.

it wasn't annoying.

you weren't even sure if he meant it.

but when you saw him looking at you, nervous, awaiting a response, you knew he did.

so, at the same time the female lead said, "me too," you did too.

then, with the cheesy romantic music playing in the back, you guys gave each other cheesy smiles, and he planted a cheesy peck on your cheek.

it was subtle.

it was sweet.

it was cheesy.

it was familiar.

it was uncharacteristically romantic and sentimental.

it was just like how your future relationship with your roomie and best friend, suna rintaro, was going to be.

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salty-says · 1 year ago

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Going back to my roots and writing. (Haven’t written fan fiction for 3 years 💀). Anyway the One Piece Live Action has caused me to become very active on tumblr and fall down rabbit holes.

So here is a little Drabble about Shanks x Luffy’sMom!reader

A/N: LMFAO I DIDN’T KNOW ANY OP PLOT RLY BEFORE WRITING THIS AND I KNOW KNOW LUFFY’S FATHER IS GARP’S CHILD NOT HIS MOM 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Being the daughter of a marine admiral meant that she grew up with an instilled hatred for pirates. Garp put her through training early on in hopes he could mold her to become a great marine like himself.

She developed fighting skills and had a strong sense of justice. That was until she went out on a mission in her teens to monitor a suspicious group of pirates. The other marines she went on the mission with decided to take their anger out on said pirates beating them to a pulp. A nasty feeling resonated within her chest as she watched her fellow marines serve their definition of justice.

That night made her start to hate the marines and the sham they were. She disconnected herself from Garp and moved to Foosha Village to start her own life away from the marines and her father.

She was very wary of pirates still. Always held onto some lingering fear for them deep down, always looked behind her back.

On the island she bought a quaint cottage and began her own garden in hopes to sustain herself without having to rely on the villagers for supplies.

After a couple of years, she found her place on the island and even become well know for her fruits and vegetables. She always brought her fresh produce to the market each morning, where she had a cute booth. The villagers adored her and also took interest in her mysterious past.

She sometimes found herself going to Party’s Bar after she made good friends with the bartender, Makino. They would talk about all there was to talk about on the island. Sailors, pirates, bandits all passed through.

However one day, old memories began resurfacing. Ones she thought she repressed long ago. She ended up going to Party’s Bar to get shit faced in hopes of shutting everything out.

At the same time as she was downing drink after drink, some sailors stopped on by at the bar. One of them was clearly very interested in her. So in her drunken state she let the man take her to an inn on the island to stay the night.

She didn’t think much of that night until one day she started feeling unbearable nausea. She went to the doctor and found out that she had gotten pregnant.

That was 9 years ago. Her small cottage now occupied by her and Luffy. She absolutely adores Luffy and would do anything for him. Sure he would frustrate her here and there but she was his mother and she loved him more than anything.

She was keen on Luffy’s interest in pirates and sailing the ocean. She decided to not share her own reservations about pirates, as she wanted Luffy to establish his own opinions when she herself couldn’t at his age.

a pirate ship became very well known around Foosha Village. A grand ship with a Jolly Roger with 3 lines across the left eye. She was aware of their presence but didn’t take mind as long as they didn’t interfere with her.

Often Luffy would come back late for dinner beaming about the stories he heard from a man named “Shanks”. She learned that he was the captain of the ship that housed itself at the docks.

With a simple reminder of him to be careful she encouraged Luffy to learn more about Shanks and his crew.

One day while she was at her booth in town, a red-haired male approached her. Instantly she noticed how cute he was and how the white shirt he wore let her admire his toned muscles.

With a blush she darted her eyes back to his face and he deeply chuckled. She smiled, “How can I help you today sir?”

“I’m looking to purchase most of your stock,” he smirked at her.

She quirked her head to the side and smiled, “Either your throwing a big party or heading out to sea.”

“Maybe both,” the red-head shrugged.

She giggled and began showing him the crates of fresh produce. He handed her some berry, “got any plans tonight?”

She blushed, “no, none really. Probably just going to make some dinner for me and my son.”

His smile faltered a bit at the last part, “Ah, I presume your married then. Sorry if my advances made you uncomfortable.”

She threw up her hands in dismissal, “Oh no. You didn’t make me uncomfortable. Actually your advances are quite welcome,” she leaned on the counter, “and don’t worry there is no husband you have to worry about.”

“Aye, how lucky am I?”

She smirked, “quite lucky”

He chuckled and leaned forward towards her, “I never introduced myself. The name’s Shanks.”

Her eyes widened a bit and her body shifted away from him. He quirked his eyebrows at this, confused by her sudden change in composure.

“..pirate,” she quietly murmured to herself. Shanks in hearing this now understood her sudden shift. “I can assure you sweetheart,” he grabbed her hands gently, “I’m a very good pirate.”

Her eyes lightened and body relaxed at his touch. And with a slight apology she told him her name. “Only a beautiful name such as that can suit a beautiful woman such as you.”

She blushed. “It’s scary how much you’re flustering me. I don’t think I would let you leave this island if you keep this up.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying a while.”

“I think my son would like that. He’s very fond of you. Your name graces our dinner table every night.” She rolls her eyes.

Shanks’ eyes widen a bit connecting the dots, “I presume Luffy is your son then?”

“Aye”

“That make sense now. He did say his mother was wary of pirates because she used to be a marine. And looking at you now, I’m glad you’re not one anymore because you’re way too beautiful.” He kissed her knuckles.

Her face turned red. “Please take me out to dinner before I pass out from how flustered you’re making me.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

#red haired shanks #shanks x reader #shanks #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #opla #opla shanks

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emotsper · 2 months ago

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Hi!!!!!!!!

You’re like the szai person on tumblr, and even tho I’ve been playing proseka for like two years, I still don’t read a lot of the stories………

So as the certified szai tumblr person, since you kinda own the tag, would you like to explain to me why szai is such a popular ship? I really didn’t read much of anything…

Have fun!!

let me be brief (1/350) (no bc its actually gonna be a long ramble. apolocheese.) (also sorry if formatting is awful im a mobile user and I literally just type whatever)

FOR REAL THOUGH. PLEASE JUST DO ME A FAVOR AND READ MMJ MAINSTORY...... not only its a good source of szai cocaina you get to experience the entire mmj mainstory. i was normal before mmj mainstory and i was less normaler after mmj mainstory.

it simply went even more downhill when i read tenshi no clover. genuinely the one event story that first made me cry (second one was ice drop event but thats a bit biased)

okay now lets get to the main meat of it. szai.

admittedly i was kind of normaler early on but one of my tipping point was Chasing the radiance event especially chapter 7. please read/watch it. please. this specific chapter sent me into my trip of insanity when it comes to szai. it also opened my eye to specific scenes in their side stories/mmj mainsto that i skimmed early on especially bc im a jp only player so fan tls may not be super accurate back then 💔

to start off, airi was a girl that was often made fun of for being tomboyish, and seeing idols for the first time made her feel a glimmer of hope that maybe she can also bring hope to other people. she finally manages to reach her goal and became an idol after several of failed auditions (very deserved especially after her hard work) while shizuku became an idol purely out of luck from the idol grand prix context her friends convinced her to join 😭😭 From the start their relationship feels a little bit doomed with how jealousy is kind of unavoidable from airis side. but against all odds, you get to see airi go to shizuku and cheering her up by giving shizuku her towel and telling her to wipe those tears especially with such a pretty face like hers (MACHINE CLANG CLANG RACK SFX) they are so crazy for this. especially when you realize that shizuku kept the towel until now. (the towel is her area upgrade item)

from this point, airi thought nothing much of shizuku yet other than her being her new rival (and that shes rly pretty) but shizuku sees airi as her main reason to keep going in this idol stuff at that time, and that was enough.

(okay purely for this next part im forgetting a bit so do remember it may not be fully accurate 🙏)

after training minori for awhile, szai went thru a mini divorce arc where airi was telling minori that being an idol isnt all fun and games and that minori should consider quitting, continuing on with how she flopped in the industry bc she was more popular as a reality show figure. but shizuku disagreed and kept saying how airi was an idol through and through and that she shouldn't have quit, but that just tipped airi off and she shouted at shizuku, unloading all her pent up jealousy that she had for awhile now. iconic as hell scene in the most angsty way possible.

u can easily tell this wasn't received well by shizuku. at all. airi you done fucked up. shizuku left her idol group the next day.

(addendum i forgot to add. shizuku truly believed that airi was the first and if not, the only person who sees shizuku as shizuku hinomori herself, without all the idol filter that people plastered on her. so when airi admitted that she was jealous w shizuku getting everything good in the industry, that basically broke shizuku. (color of myself is a nice one to read when it comes to this 🙏 also the i am we are event is a crazy good conclusion to shizukus current arc))

at this point airi realizes just how much shizuku was influenced by her past actions without her fully knowing about it. girl you done fucked up.

this scene is still one of the biggest and strongest kryptonite for szai fans. especially with what happens after.

after confronting shizuku about her choice knowing full well its airis fault, airi, angry at herself, goes immediately to cheerful*days training place (she knows the place since theyve kinda shared the spot iirc) while the rest of mmj follows. she started threatening arisa and almost threw punches but she held back and told the rest of cheerful*days that shizuku is more of an idol than everyone in the room (i may be hallucinating this one. do lmk)

they finally leave the place, and both apologies to each other. at the same time, they both admitted that they were each others idol

and then shizuku goes to tackle hug airi. what the queer

that only concludes the mainstory section btw. upon realizing it may be too much of a recap instead of actual explanation ill be brief w the rest of it (keep in mind i dont read EVERY szai story, just ones i was made aware of bc im playing on jp and story content is a bit harder to see/consume)

Main szai crazies for szai fans

1. chasing the radiance ch7. airi yet talks again about how shizukus hands are slender and elegant while hers are short and chubby (she compared her hands to a manju) and shizuku was mad at her about this and went on a long tangent about how airis gentle hands were the ones who pushes minori and shizuku forward when they think they couldn't.

this is probably the fifth time ive read this story and it still gets me. i hate these fruitsssss. please read the full chapter ive linked it near the start this chapter is so special to me.

2. my ideal idol (airi 5, jp only event for now)

Bro i Dont Even Know What Else To Say. Just Look At This Card

but if we're being serious . lets talk about this one specific card and the story shall we.

this card was a blast to the past; pre-mmj szai again.

we start off with present mmj getting ready for their turn in the joint performance with a new junior idol group that they were paired with. airi was a bit nervous and shizuku noticed it. so she offered to do something that would hopefully lessen the nervousness for both of them. shizuku softly puts her head on airis back and whispered several word of encouragements. shizuku reminisces to the past.

pre-mmj szai. shizuku was very nervous as she was waiting for her first performance ever as an idol. airi was also there, and it was going to be her first too. airi shows up to say hi to shizuku but she noticed that shizuku was really nervous and at the verge of crying. airi knew she had to do something and told shizuku to turn around, shizuku did. shizuku lets out a little surprised yelp as she feels airis hands and head pressing against her back. she could hear airi muttering some encouragement but we never get to hear what the words were, only that shizuku thought about how warm airis hands were. (i need to be euthanized)

back to the present, shizuku says that she hopes that this gesture can somehow "repay" for what airi did to her back then. i think im losing it. sorry

OKAY IM DONE IM DONE ITS ALMOST 1 AM MY BRAIN IS NOT GOING TO WORK ANYMORE IF I KEEP TYPING..... my brain can handle so little. anyways i hope this wall of text ramble can convince u to read mmj mainsto and consume more mmj stories........ i admit its not perfect or whatsoever bc i haven't read the mmj mainstory for awhile and i have a wee memory issue thats paired with my deafness so. yeah. enjoy. haha.

#project sekai #shizuai #oh my fcukign god #im not smart ive never been a talker #so this was mostly a ramble instead of actuak “why szai is popular”#helpepppp helpppp hbelppppp #sorry if u expected anything different i genuinely dunno how to properly write it 😭😭#ALSO a hot take i have is that airi shouldn't be strictly fem presenting bc of her fes story #I WANT MY MASC KITTY!!! WHERE IS SHE

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