#angel's1.5k

[im-most-definitely-fangirling]

Not So Innocent After All

Pairing: Dean x reader (Y/N)

Word count: 3898 words (this ended up getting waaaay longer than I expected...)

Warnings: some smut and a cute Sammy.... I think that’s it :)

Summary: You are on a witch hunt with the boys when a spell is cast on you and Dean. Will he find out that you have a crush on him?

A/N: This was written for @whispersandwhiskerburn Much Ado About SPN challenge. my prompts were the Shakespeare quote: “If music be the food of love, play on” (Twelfth Night I.1) and words Impala, Iron, and Innocence. couldn’t really find a way to work Iron into it, so i skipped that :) A big thanks to Angel, since she helped me through this and betaed for me, also, it was basically her challenge that made me start writing fanfic in the first place. THANK YOU ANGEL <3 I think that was all i had to say for now. Happy reading :)

Ever since you first laid eyes on the older Winchester, you had had the biggest crush on him. Mr. Sex-On-Legs had saved you from a big bad werewolf a couple of years prior, and you had decided to join him and his brother in the eternal battle against supernatural evil. Dean had rejected your application as their new partner in crime in the beginning, but since you had nowhere else to go (and a pair of puppy dog eyes as good as Sam’s) he couldn’t refrain from letting you tag along.

Sam quickly became the little brother you never had, and Dean, well, not so much. You knew he thought of you as more of a little sister than anything else, and though it sometimes was extremely painful not being able to tell him how you really felt about him, you wouldn’t dare risk your friendship and your inclusion in the Winchester family. In the beginning, you thought that he actually liked you back, but as it turns out, Dean flirts shamelessly with every girl he meets. It broke your heart into a million pieces the night you realized how wrong and naive you had been.

Sam had been the first one to notice it, and since he knew about the feelings you had for his brother, he quickly threw some more books in front of you, trying to distract you with more research material before you saw the deep purple hickey peeking out from atop of the green-eyed hunters collar. The sudden thud of books landing on the table in front of you had the complete opposite effect though, making you look up at Sam with the intention of complaining about being tired or needing a cup of coffee or whatever the hell would get you out of research duty at least for a couple of minutes. You straightened up in your chair, arching your back and stretching your arms above your head, about to fake a yawn, when your eyes drifted to Dean, seeing the purple mark left uncovered by his shirt as his head was tilted away from you.

You stared in complete and utter disbelief for what seemed like minutes, before the sadness and despair arose from deep within you. You felt stupid and worthless as you rose from the chair in the bunker’s library that you had claimed as your own, trying to hide the fact that tears were beginning to slowly make their way down your cheeks, only just managing to hold in the first few sniffles and sobs until your bedroom door was locked behind you and the dam broke. That night, Sam had come knocking on your door, and you ended up lying wrapped in his arms, sniffling every few minutes while he ran his fingers through your hair, trying to comfort you. Eventually the tears subsided, and you fell asleep laying on the younger Winchester’s firm chest.

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was nowhere to be seen. You sat in your bed, contemplating whether you should get up, when you suddenly remembered what happened last night. You buried your face in your soft pillow, fighting off the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes.  Eventually the urge to bawl your eyes out faded, and you were able to reach for your phone and earbuds, determined to drown yourself in music until you forgot about the green-eyed hunter. Not that you believed that would ever really happen.

About an hour later you heard a faint knock on the door. “Come in!” you yelled, knowing from experience that sound didn’t travel easily through the massive wooden doors. The hinges creaked as it was pushed open, Sam’s large frame stepping into the room. “‘morning,” he said, handing you a large cup of coffee and setting a plate with toast on the little round table beside the bed. “I figured you wouldn’t want to leave your bed just to get breakfast, considering what happened last night.” He smiled kindly at you, compassion evident in his face. You assured him that you were fine, that your behavior had only been because of the shock. He didn’t buy it.

Before stepping back out into the hallway, he said one of the few things you really didn’t feel like hearing. “We caught a case.”

The six hour drive to Sutherland, Iowa could easily have been the longest six hours of your life. With Dean constantly complaining about having to deal with witches, only stopping to bicker with Sam about his choice of music, you were already rather fed up after half an hour in Baby. Reaching into your pocket to retrieve your earbuds, ready to escape this world and sink into the world of your favorite music, you groaned as you finally found out what you had forgotten.

You would have been forced to listen to the noise coming from the front seats, most likely having gone insane by the time you reached your destination, if Sam hadn’t been the sweetheart that he was. His large hand reached out behind him, dropping your forgotten pair of earbuds into your outstretched hand. Uttering a quick thank you, you plugged them into your phone, shooting him a small smile in the process.

The witches weren’t very good at covering up their tracks, and since their motives shined through clearly in all the incidents, tracking the bitches down was a piece of cake. But killing them wasn’t.

Apparently, there were more witches than expected. Counting on a coven of about 3-4 witches, the shock that hit you all when you were suddenly surrounded by a coven twice as big, chanting weird shit and casting spells, was immense. But you didn’t lose hope.

It was quiet now, the atmosphere almost eerie, as you laid on the ground clutching your shoulder, still hurting from when you were thrown against the concrete wall. Though you were a bit dizzy, and the back of your head was hurting, you doubted that you had taken any real damage. Running your hand over the sore area behind your hair, you felt a wetness cover your fingers. Blood. “Damn it,” you thought, “why the hell do they always have to throw us around? Can’t they just pin us to the wall instead of sending us flying straight into one?”

Sam had seen the pained expression on your face when you had tried to asses the damage on your head, and strode over to you, lifting you up bridal style. He blatantly ignored your request to be put down, instead calling for Dean to come with you, telling him that you might need stitches, but otherwise you seemed fine. He couldn’t rule out a concussion yet though, so while you were extremely exhausted, they decided to keep you awake until you got back to the bunker.

Wanting to keep an eye on you to make sure you wouldn’t fall asleep, the brothers decided that you should sit between them in the front, but that proved much more difficult than it sounded. Normally, there was just about the amount of space needed for the brothers to sit comfortably together on the black bench seat, so instead of sitting between them, you ended up more or less sitting on the younger brother’s lap.

After a while Dean pulled into a gas station, filling up Baby’s tank before disappearing through the automatic doors of the little store, only to come back with a couple cans of Rockstar, handing you one with the instruction to “drink up.” And then you were back on the road.

That’s when it happened. You were just beginning to feel the effect of the energy drink, not feeling nearly as sleepy as before, when the headache started. It wasn’t that bad really, so you just suffered in silence as usual, right until it became too much.

You were just about to tell them about it, when it all went black. You heard the faint sound of screeching tires, Baby’s screeching tires, before you were pulled so deep into the darkness, that you wondered if you’d ever find your way out. And that was your last thought before the nothingness consumed you.

When you finally woke up, you were laying in bed. But it wasn’t your bed. It was Dean’s. Looking around, hoping to see something that might explain why you weren’t in your own bed, you pulled the covers aside, stepping out onto the cold floor, nearly face planting in the process. Why were you so close to the ceiling? And why could you feel the cold air against your chest? With a frown on your face you took a quick look down your body, letting out a very manly scream as you realized why you were in Dean’s bed. Fucking witches.

Rummaging through Dean’s messy dresser, you managed  to find a pair of plaid PJ pants. Being in too much distress to care about trying to find a shirt, you walked into the bunker’s kitchen bare-chested, earning yourself a weird look from the always early-rising moose as you stood there with your hand on your hip. “ Guess who, Sammy!” you said, sounding way too cheery to be Dean. And Sam picked up on that too, his eyes narrowing before blowing wide open. “Y/N?” he said, “is that you?” He got up from his chair, walking towards you. “Bingo Moose! Damn, even from up here you’re a giant,” you exclaimed, earning yourself his signature bitch face as you ruffled his hair. Annoyed Sam looked so much cuter from this angle, all pouty and… well, cute. It made you want to ruffle his hair again, but you were hungry, and getting an ass-kicking before breakfast wasn’t exactly on your plan for the day.

You were half way through your third bowl of cereal, when you heard the scream. Sam stood up and were on his way to pick up his gun, when he remembered that you weren’t in danger, that it was most likely just Dean finally waking up, discovering that he now had boobs, and nothing dangling between his legs. For his sake, you hoped that you would soon figure out how to switch you back, otherwise, poor little  Dean would get to experience a visit from a bitchy mother nature. Awesome.

When Dean finally entered the kitchen, you struggled to contain the laughter bubbling up inside you, only just managing to not spit out your cereal and roll around on the floor, trying not to die of laughter. Your - his - hair was a mess, and the clothes he was wearing… Damn. Despite the fact that all you had in your closet was basic Winchester-style clothing, though with a couple of short dresses and some bras added in, he had somehow managed to not make his clothing items match. And he wasn’t wearing a bra. No, you hadn’t exactly expected that he would come into the kitchen looking like a freakin’  model, but he could at least have put on a bra and brushed your hair. What a catastrophe.

Before he even got to the table you were standing, pulling him back towards your room, small tingling spurts shooting from where your skin touched his, spreading quickly through your body. You had to fix this mess.

As soon as the door to your room had closed behind the two of you, you went over to your dresser, digging a bit around in it, trying to find the comfiest pair of panties you had, when you remembered that they were still in the laundry, along with most of your other panties. Having only thongs and normal lacy panties to choose from, you cursed yourself for your laziness, choosing to go with the lace, and giving Dean the order to go take a bath.

Pulling the lacy piece of lingerie out of the drawer, a small object came out with it. As the gentleman he was, Dean picked it up for you, both of your faces turning red as you realized what it was. Your vibrator. Yes, it was small, but it was discreet and powerful, just what every hunter travelling with the Greek god, also known as Dean Winchester, needed. He threw it into your hands, almost like it had burned him, before pulling the panties out of your grasp, nearly running into the bathroom. Awkward.

After laying out some clothes (and a bra) for him on his bed, you informed him of it before retreating to your own room, once again finding the world of music comforting. Sam was searching for a way to reverse the spell, but by dinner time he still hadn’t figured it out yet. It would undoubtedly be an awkward couple of days before he would find anything, before he would be able to finally send your minds into the right bodies.

The morning wood was probably the worst. Sure, you had given a few hand jobs here and there, and obviously knew how to take care of it, but it was weird. You were touching Dean, your long-time crush, in a very intimate place, and, knowing your body, he would have probably had to touch yours as well. Not that you would get blue balls, but being as horny as a bitch in heat wasn’t exactly comfortable. Especially not with a nice and sweaty Dean around.

At bedtime on the day after the fashion catastrophe happened, you noticed something strange as you walked in on your almost naked body, as the (usually) green-eyed hunter struggled to find your PJ. In the beginning it was just a small tingling in your lower body, a feeling that you knew, but for some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You did soon figure out what it was though, as Dean lifted the black t-shirt over his head, revealing the sexy lace you had chosen for him. The tingling had intensified, sparking a weird feeling between your legs. Your eyes met Dean’s before you let your gaze wander down the body that usually belonged to him, noticing the front of your pants tenting. Your face turned scarlet as you looked back up, seeing his focus landing on the boner you were currently sporting. You saw the aggressive blush that was spreading on his face, right as you realized that this wasn’t on you.

“This makes no sense,” you thought, “why would I be turned on by my own half-naked body? But if it isn’t me, then it has to be… no, that can’t be right. He sees me as a little sister god damnit.” The thoughts were rolling around in your head, making you dizzy as they all tried to surface simultaneously. Breaking up the flushed staring competition, you turned your gaze away and walked out of the room, leaving a dumbfounded and extremely embarrassed Dean to figure out how to handle this. You had to change back ASAP, and you sure as hell weren’t the only one who wanted that.

You see, after breakfast on the first day in your new bodies, Sam had finally told Dean about a small thing that happened as you both blacked out in the Impala. And Dean had been pissed. It was almost scary to see his facial expression change from slightly annoyed over Sam not cutting to the chase to “I-hate-those-fucking-bitches” and “I-want-to-kill-them-right-fucking-now” as Sam explained how he had to grab the wheel when Dean passed out, resulting in Baby crashing into a minor tree, busting one of her headlights and denting her front a bit.

He wanted to go fix it right away of course, but you and Sam agreed that at that point it was more important to figure out how to navigate your new bodies and finding out a way to crack the spell. Dean was not happy, to say the least.

It took three days all in all to figure out how to reverse the spell and actually do it. Three days filled with awkwardness, only broken up by the time spend with your playlist on shuffle. Getting near Dean in those three days was not a possibility, your bodies so violently attracted to each others that Sam would surely notice it if you stood too close. That, and then the awkwardness following the boner incident.

As soon as you were back in your own bodies, the green-eyed hunter practically ran out to Baby. And stayed there. The only time he came inside that day was to get his burger, not even eating it with the two of you, just bringing it with him back to the garage, seemingly trying to avoid you. But you weren’t having any of it.

The following morning, when you knew Dean was out in the garage working on Baby, you had a plan. Dressing in your shortest hot pants and a tank top showing off your assets, you wandered off towards the garage, making sure that you had everything that you would need to carry out that master plan of yours.

As he was standing there, bent over the hood, wearing a pair of jeans seeming to be tight in all the right places, you had to admit that the effort you made not to drool on the floor was much larger than you wanted it to be.

Shaking your head as if to pull yourself out of the trance you were put in by the extremely handsome man in front of you, you initiated your big plan. You walked over to the radio standing on the small tool cart, cranking up the volume as you heard Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me flow from the speakers. Perfect.

Dean turned around, confusion evident in his beautiful features as his gaze landed on you, giving you a quick once over, his mouth hanging open as he seemed to struggle as much with the whole “don’t drool on the floor” -thing as you were. Admittedly, you did look hot. And that was the point of your choice of clothes.

Swaying your hips in time with the tunes, you strode towards him, suddenly standing so very close to his large form, making your body tingle with anticipation. He had that look in his eyes, and you knew, that later, when you walked out of that room, nothing would be as it was before. For better or for worse.

Right as you were about to begin step two of your plan, he finally stopped gawking, a smirk finding its way onto his lips instead. “You know, for a hunter, you have some pretty interesting stuff in your dresser. I guess you’re not so innocent after all,” he said, looking straight into your eyes. “Didn’t know you were a thong girl, but I guess that isn’t exactly something you tell your hunting partner huh?” you felt a blush starting to appear on you face as the words fell from his plush lips, willing it down as best as you could, though unable to stop your panties from growing wetter and wetter for every word. It was an impossible task.

“Thought you wouldn’t be attracted to me, but hey, I guess that’s just because you were too big of a wuss to tell me,” you retorted, a wide smile forming on your lips as he let out a small chuckle. Right as the next song came on the radio, his lips met yours in an innocent kiss, barely touching each other, almost as if asking for permission.

You chased his lips as he pulled away, and that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed. The next kiss was deep and sinful, wet tongues dancing around each other, fighting for dominance. And he won.

Grabbing the back of your thighs, he signaled for you to jump, making you wrap your legs around his waist before setting you down on Baby’s hood. The cool metal under you sent a shiver down your spine, but you quickly warmed up, despite the fact that your clothes was rapidly getting pulled off your body, revealing increasing amounts of bare skin.

The green-eyed hunter let out a deep chuckle as you pulled out a condom from the back pocket of your small shorts, right before they were discarded on the floor. “Soooo I take it you knew this was gonna happen?” The smile on his lips sparked your confidence, making you able to shoot him a wink without blushing over his words. Instead, Dean seemed to be the one who’s cheeks were turning pink. After all this time, the tables had finally turned.

The moans that echoed through the garage when he pushed into you were sinful, filled with the longing and desire you had felt for each other for so long, finally letting all the pent up frustrations out.

The drags he made at first were slow and passionate, deep and loving, but as you started to push back against him, he sped up, his thrusts coming hard and fast, nailing your sweet spot over and over again. You wouldn’t last long, and with the pace he was setting, neither would he.

“I’m gonna come Baby, are you with me?”  The words were whispered in your ear, his thrusts becoming more erratic for every second, feeling you clenching down around him. He wasn’t the only one that was close.

The music blaring in the background, and the nearing of your release made it impossible for you to hear the door to the garage opening and closing again, before a very familiar voice resonated through the room, right as you both fell over the edge, plunging into the abyss of orgasmic bliss.

“What the hell guys? Could you just please put a sock on the door or something?!?!?”  

You squealed as you desperately tried to cover yourself up, Dean reacting quicker and yanking you down from Baby’s hood, putting you behind him, effectively shielding you off from Sam’s view, seeming to be indifferent to the fact that he was standing in front of his brother in all his naked glory, with come still dripping from the tip of his cock. It didn’t really matter though, ‘cause Sam was already headed back inside, informing you that he had gotten you some pizza for lunch, and complained about being scarred for life.

As you heard the door close behind the younger brother, Dean turned around, facing you, wearing a big grin on his face. “Soooo you planned all of this?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. You nodded silently, your confidence from before starting to wear off a bit. “Even the music?” Looking him right in the eyes, you let out a quiet confirmation, and he nodded with a small purse of his lips and lifted eyebrows, seemingly impressed by the amount of thought you put into it.

You saw the next question in his face before he let it run over his full lips. “What was up with that anyway? The music, you know.” You thought about it for less than a second before the answer came to you. “I guess I just felt like I would need it?” you replied, the tilt of Dean’s head letting you know that he didn’t understand what you meant. “You know, as Shakespeare wrote: “If music be the food of love, play on.””

And it sure as hell seemed to be.

Tagging @wheresthekillswitch ‘cause she’s a total cutie ❤️

Other awesome people:

@jensen-jarpad

@27bmm

@notnaturalanahi

@deathtonormalcy56

@just-another-busy-fangirl

@mysteriouslyme81

@mousehybrid

@atc74

@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid

@supernatural-jackles

@dontcallmebabe-ok

@impala-dreamer

@katymacsupernatural

[deansdirtylittlesecretsblog]

Nothing Either Good or Bad

Title: Nothing Either Good or Bad

Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Summary: Donna goes hunting on her own.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Word Count: 2144

Warnings: canon typical violence

Author’s Notes: This was written for @whispersandwhiskerburn Must Ado About SPN challenge. My inspirational quote was - “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so” (Hamlet II.2). I had to use and make important to the plot - Donna Hanscum, Devil’s Gate, Deals. This is a part of my Dean and Donna universe.

There are places in the world that everyone knows are evil places, places where bad things happen, where good doesn’t exist. Dean believed that with every fiber of his being. One of those places was the Devil’s Gate in southern Wyoming. Maybe there were those in the world who believed that nothing was truly good or bad, that it was all perception, but he wasn’t one of them. He and Sam hadn’t been back to the Devil’s Gate in years, steering clear of it intentionally; too many bad memories, too many things best left in the past. As far as they were both concerned, they were never going back.

Never say never.

“You heard from Donna yet?” Sam asked.

Dean dropped his phone to the table and shook his head. “Nope. Not since she called three days ago. She said she was going to help a friend with something that sounded like it might be right up our alley. I offered to help her out, but she said no.”

“And you agreed?” Sam said.

“Not because I wanted to,” Dean snapped. “I offered to drive up to Minnesota to go with her, but she said no. And there’s no arguing with her when she sets her mind to something.”

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “She is pretty headstrong.”

“That’s an understatement,” Dean sighed. “But it’s not like her to not stay in touch. I’m starting to get worried.”

“Starting?” Sam murmured.

“Okay, so I hit worried two days ago,” he muttered. “I might be close to panicking at this point.”

“Where’d she go?” his brother asked.

“That I don’t know,” Dean replied.

“Alright, then,” Sam said, “I guess we’re going to Minnesota to figure it out.”

“Devil’s Gate?” Dean grumbled. “She went to the Devil’s Gate in Wyoming?”

The brothers sat at Donna’s kitchen table, her piles of research spread out in front of them. Sam was rifling through the stacks of papers, stopping every now and then to read something.

“Looks like it,” Sam nodded. “She’s got some good information here, Dean. There’s been a lot of crazy storms in the area - which isn't uncommon - but it looks like maybe it’s been crazier than normal. There was also a bunch of deaths within a twenty mile radius of the Gate. Guy Wilson, the sheriff in the area, called her and asked for her help, said he’d heard that she was good with weird stuff.”

“Demon?” Dean asked.

“Maybe,” Sam shrugged. “Seems like the most logical explanation. We need to go to Wyoming, find Donna.”

Donna shifted, unable to get comfortable. Her ass was asleep, her stomach was churning, and her head was pounding. She glanced to the corner where Guy’s body was crumpled in a grotesque ball, legs and arms broken, neck twisted so his head was nearly facing backwards, blood dried in a thick trail from his mouth to his collarbone. She bit back the tears, trying to keep it together. She rested her head on her knees and tried to breathe.

Even though she was sitting in a locked building with a dead body, she was still loathe to admit that she’d made a mistake by not agreeing to let Dean come along and help. She was desperate to prove to him that she was able to do the hunting thing on her own, prove to him that she would be safe - his biggest worry. She felt like she was failing miserably. First the djinn, then Gabriel, and now this. She’d be lucky if Dean didn’t drag her to Kansas and lock her in the bunker.

She had to believe he would find her, that after not hearing from her for days he would do everything in his power to find her. Because if he didn’t, she’d be dead, just like the man in the corner of the room.

“Ten deals in ten days,” Crowley said, dropping a stack of papers on the table in front of the brothers. “Grigori is working overtime.”

“One of yours?” Sam asked.

“They’re all mine, Samantha” Crowley snapped, shaking his head. “Grigori has always been a bit of an overachiever.”

“You need to rein him in,” Dean demanded. “Now.”

“He’s just doing his job,” Crowley shrugged.

“Bullshit,” Dean muttered. “His job is to make deals, not kill innocent people with their souls intact. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” the King of Hell replied. “He hasn’t checked in. But I don’t think he’s the one committing your murders.”

“Then who do you think it is?” Sam asked.

“Raum,” Crowley answered. “He’s not interested in buying souls or making deals. He’s always been a bit more about the pillaging and plundering, death and blood and gore. More a follower of the Knights of Hell than interesting in populating Hell. He and Grigori, they aren’t...fond of each other. At all.”

“So, what? They’re one upping each other? Grigori makes a deal, Raum kills someone, back and forth, until what? They empty out the town?” Sam had his fists clenched, his eyes narrowed in anger.

Crowley only smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Have a nice day, boys.” Then he was gone.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled. He picked up the papers, glancing briefly at each one before dropping it to the table. He was nearly at the bottom of the stack when he stopped, picked up a couple of papers, and examined them closely.

“You got that list of the people who’ve been murdered?” he asked.

Sam hit a couple of buttons on his laptop, then pushed it across the table to Dean.

“What?” he asked his brother, watching as he scrolled through the list.

“Every one of the people who have been murdered had the same last name as someone who made a deal,” Dean replied, pushing the papers and the laptop back to Sam. “Raum is killing the family members of anyone Grigorio has made a deal with.”

Sam quickly looked over the list, comparing it to the papers now in his hand. “Dean, the last person that Grigorio made a deal with? Her last name is Wilson.”

“Like the sheriff? The one who called Donna?”

“”Like the sheriff,” Sam nodded.

The cell phone landed at her feet, tossed there by the demon standing in the doorway. She looked at it, then the demon who’d introduced himself as Raum.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” she snapped.

“Call your boyfriend,” the demon grinned. “Tell him to come to the Devil’s Gate.”

“What?” Donna muttered.

“He’ll know what it is,” Raum smiled. “Let’s go, toots.”

Donna glared at the demon, but she picked up the phone - not hers - and dialed the number of one of Dean’s phones. It rang five times before he picked up.

“Agent Criss,” he answered.

“Dean?” she whispered.

“Donna,” he yelped. “Where are you?”

“Listen to me, Dean,” Donna said. “I’m supposed to tell you to come to the Devil’s Gate.”

“What? Who told you that?” Dean’s sounded nearly frantic. “Where the hell are you?”

“Raum, it was Raum -” The phone flew from her hand, hitting the wall and shattering to pieces.

“Time’s up,” Raum growled.

The door slammed closed.

“Why the hell do they always want to meet at night? In the darkest places they can find?” Dean grumbled, slamming the Impala’s door hard enough to make her rattle. He looked around the cemetery, taking in as much as he could, looking for any hidden traps or tricks. “Which way’s the Gate?”

Sam glanced around, trying to get his bearings. He pointed north, tossed Dean the gun from the trunk, and tucked the other into the back of his pants. They set off across the cemetery, moving quickly.

They crested a small hill, passing several mausoleums, one of them with the door hanging open. As they came down the hill, Dean could see someone standing in front of it, arms crossed. He didn’t see Donna anywhere.

“Took you long enough,” the demon muttered as they approached. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“Where’s Donna?” Dean demanded.

Raum turned and stalked around the side of the building, returning with a tied up Donna in tow, dragging her behind him. He let her fall to the ground at his feet, ignoring her grunt of pain.

Dean made to move forward, but Sam grabbed his arm, stopping him. He could feel the muscles bunching and jumping beneath his hand and he knew that Dean was close to exploding. Sam squeezed, silently urging his brother to hold on just a little bit longer.

“Open the Gate,” Raum said.

“I’m sorry,” Dean laughed. “You’re joking, right?

“I know you have the Colt, so open the Gate.” Raum kneeled down beside Donna and put his hand on her throat. “Open it or she dies.”

“Dean,” Sam warned under his breath, knowing that it was just a matter of seconds before Dean lost it.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was Donna. Donna. The one person in the world who he cared about as much as his brother. Fuck. This wasn’t happening.

“No,” he heard Donna say faintly. “I don’t know what the cuss is in there, but I know it can’t be good. I’m not worth it, Dean. Don’t do it.”

“Donna -” Dean shook his head.

“I mean it, Dean,” she said. It was the voice she used when she didn’t want him to eat the cookie dough, or when he refused her help on a case. It was the voice she used when she meant business.

“Open it, Winchester,” the demon said. “You have thirty seconds.”

Dean pulled the gun from inside his jacket, unconsciously spinning it in his hand. “Fine, let her go and I’ll open it.”

Raum sighed heavily and rose to his feet, pulling Donna with him. He shoved her, laughing as she stumbled, nearly falling. Dean crossed the distance between them, one arm sliding around her waist, shuffling backwards. He pushed her toward Sam.

“Get her out of here, Sam,” he ordered before turning and walking toward the Devil’s Gate, the gun in his hand.

Sam held Donna back, trying and nearly failing to get her to stop struggling while he tried to undo the duct tape binding her hands. He finally pulled her close and whispered something in her ear, calming her long enough for him to pull a knife from his pocket to saw at the thick, gray tape. He kept throwing glances over his shoulder, watching his brother as he moved across the cemetery, waiting for the signal.

Dean was just steps away from the Gate, his back to Raum, when he suddenly turned and charged the demon, taking him out at the knees, both of them landing in the packed dirt beside a large headstone. The two wrestled for the gun, fighting for control, moving in a blur of flying fists and feet.

A gunshot rang out.

“Dean!” Donna screamed, yanking her hands free of Sam’s. She had only taken a couple of steps when Dean popped up, covered in dirt and blood.

Sam pushed past Donna, sprinting towards his brother, pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Raum was attempting to rise to his feet, his face pale with shock. Sam stopped beside him, the gun pointed at his head. He gestured to the gun on the ground beside him.

“Decoy,” Sam said. “Filled with devil trapped bullets.

He fired, an orange hole appearing in the center of the demon’s forehead, one lone trickle of blood dripping from it. And then he was gone.

Dean didn’t wait, he turned and sprinted toward Donna, rapidly closing the distance between them. He pulled her into his arms, his lips crashing into hers, kissing her until he couldn’t breathe.

“Goddamn it, I hate it when you do that,” he growled.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Donna mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, fully aware that he was angry with her. “I’m really, really sorry. I shouldn’t hunt on my own.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, gorgeous,” Dean shook his head. “I’m talking about you refusing to back down, about you being willing to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. It’s scares the shit out of me.”

Donna took a step back, shaking her head. “You’re joking, right?” she asked. “You? The man who is willing to sacrifice everything for the people you love? You’re telling me I scared you?”

“Yeah, you scared me,” he chuckled. “And trust me, I know how ironic that sounds. But I don’t care. I can’t -” He cleared his throat. “I can’t lose you.”

Donna returned to the circle of his arms, her cheek resting on his chest. “Okay. I promise to try not to do it again. Is that good enough?” she said.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Dean sighed. “For now.”

Dean and Donna Tags: @mamapeterson @aprofoundbondwithdean @sweetmisseddreams2002 @catsandteacozies @katnharper @ultimatecin73 @thebunkerismyhome @deathswaywardson @chrisatplay @geekylibrarian24 @jessica-bones-winchester @winchesterswoonathon @for-the-love-of-dean @tonifish @nichelle-my-belle @torn-and-frayed @ksgeekgirl @missandmrsgalxy @prettyboydean @tia58 @nerdyplantbasednurse @madamelibrarian @icantthinkofaname-oops @bringmesomepie56 @waywardjoy @iwriteshortstuff @piratedaydreams @that1seniorchick @starswirlblitz @pizzarollpatrol @lazairahel @hidingfrommychildren @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @district12-erudite @castiel-angelofthelord @misswhizzy @deansdirtywhore @wonderless-screwup @downworlder--impala @superbluhoo2 @deanwinchestermybae @deandoesthingstome @jencharlan @feelmyroarrrr @okay-okay18 @spnbrennafae @rattyretro-blog-blog @ladyroche @climbthatmooselikeatree @rizlow1 @smoothdogsgirl @mischief-maker1 @winchesterprincessbride @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sckslife @sis-tafics @youwerelikeadream @i-dream-of-dean @oriona75 @writingbeautifulmen @meeshw777 @mrswhozeewhatsis @gemini75eeyore @vote-for-pedro @tom-is-in-my-tardis @percywinchester27 @atc74 @chelseafartnoise @missbeccamay @findingfitnessforme @tas898 

[deansarms]

Together We Thrive

This is my entry for @whispersandwhiskerburn ‘s much ado about spn challenge. (Congrats on the followers:]!)I got the letter R and the quote “I burn, I pine, I perish  from Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew. This is POV Sam and Dean and takes place during Dean’s time in hell. I did more of a poem thing (and now feel quite stupid about it like was this even okay sorry).  That being said, I had fun writing it, and i hope it’s okay and someone likes it :/:) {631 words}

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I burn    

 The licking red and biting silver,

I am alive, within wicked ember;

I will remember, remember, and remember

 Head held high,

My reward so worth the price.

I cannot cry,

For the fire is now my chosen life.

 What is a day

               And another

                               Another

                                               Another

And every one after

If he is saved from the fire?

 I write a song that feels like flame,

Ceaseless voicing of your name,

I refuse to play his game.

 I will not break;

This is less than I can take.

I won’t bend

Because honor is the means to my end.

 What is a week

               Or two

                               Three

                                               More

Because he stood up

And walked free out that door?

 I have forgotten much, for one, what is cold?

Only heat lives in my soul.

Well, I never thought that I’d grow old.

 Strong, be strong, be strong no longer,

For all are witness to my weakness.

Crying, shouting, screaming, weeping,

He tells me how to end the torture.

 Through my end

Is another’s beginning.

That path holds no honor

And I can still say that I’m winning.

 What is a month

               Same as

                               Each one

                                               Before

Maybe, now that there is routine,

I’ll recall the pain no more?

 Is honor just pride masquerading as strength?

Despite what I said, I do not want this life.

I turn my back on love and strength and hope.

 I pick up the blade,

It is warm in my hand.

Now that my pain ends

So hers does begin.

 What is a year

               A century

                               Millennia?

With his name still in mind,

I hand over my life.

 And thus

 I burn

 I pine

I hold the shredded remains

Of what used to be

Hold closer and closer

So tenderly

No, it can’t be

Cry, cry, and cry

I wish you hadn’t

I would rather die

I carve away at the earth

The place I should be

I don’t want to be alone

Why did you leave me?

I don’t want to see

I don’t want to think

I can’t live like this

So I numb with drink

I cannot think

I can barely drive

But I get in your car

And hope that one will arrive

I carve, again, at earth

This time, at the place where I will lie

I wish to give away

This worthless life of mine

I drive her knife straight through

I want to trade

He laughs and doesn’t care

If a corpse of him I made

So then I make

A shell of his shell

Maybe I can save his life

Only time will tell

I’ll get my revenge

And get him back too

Yes, bringing him home

Is all I will do

I can’t, not with her

This is not okay

However, this is the first time

I’ve felt alive today

This one didn’t make it

Most of them don’t

Though I feel like giving up

I won’t, won’t, won’t

I’ll never stop looking

As the days go by

Turning into weeks

That seem to just fly

My suffering is none

In comparison to his

It should’ve been me

I hoped what was will be what is

She stands up

To answer the door

And I wish it was he

That I’ve been looking for

And oh, how

I pine

I perish

For, when I fall into his arms,

The death I’ve felt and caused

Feels all for naught

What is a life,

               Not a life

                               Without him

                                               By my side

I perish

For, when I fall into his arms

I thank the stars

That I am here, and not gone

To again hold him in my arms

There was no point

In being alive

Without him

By my side

Alone I perish

Alone I perish

Together, we thrive

[whispersandwhiskerburn]

Much Ado About SPN

Friends, writers, tumblr people, lend me your ears...

For those of you who do not know, I (Angel, @whispersandwhiskerburn) am a teacher. I love to teach writing and reading to students—and I love reading and writing fanfiction. So, when I reached the AMAZING milestone of 1.5K FOLLOWERS, I decided to celebrate with my fellow writers with a challenge that marries the two—my love of teaching literature and writing and my love of spn fanfiction.

Every writer goes on a journey. They start with the ABCs and it's amazing how many wonders just 26 letters can create—it's all about how you use them. Of course, reading helps; good readers become good writers, and good writers are always looking for a way to challenge themselves, in reading and writing. One of the most challenging, most famous, and best writers that ever lived made wonderful stories that are read and taught to this day—all with the same 26 letters that we use.

So, that's the inspiration for this challenge. The letters of the alphabet—and one of the greatest writers of all time: William Shakespeare.

The idea is to use at least two (all three if you can) of the alphabet prompts AND the Shakespeare line—you do NOT have to use Shakespeare's wording, just be inspired by the theme of the quote.

Rules and Accepting the Challenge:

1. Must be following me....it's a follower celebration, so yeah. New followers are welcome though, so feel free to follow, then ask. :)

2. Send an ASK with your requested prompt by letter and quote number. First come, first choice—and there are only 25 prompts (I deleted x) so you'd better hurry! I want to give everyone a chance to sign up, so don't ask for a second prompt until after March 10th, please!        NOTE: If you ask anonymously...you're silly. I can't sign you up if I don't know who you are?

3. Any character from the show is welcome, but not cast members for this challenge (Dean/Sam/Castiel etc., not Jensen/Jared/Misha). Ships are fine, (exceptions: no non-con and no Samifer, since Lucifer totally raped him) but reader-inserts are preferred.

4. Any genre: SFW, NSFW, AU, angst, fluff, smut, or any combination thereof, just please tag appropriately.

5. No maximum length limit, but if it is more than 800 words, include a read-more link, or I won't reblog it. Should be at least 500 words. One shots, drabbles, series pieces, combinations with other challenges/requests—all are totally cool.

6. Tag me (@whispersandwhiskerburn) in the header somewhere. I will reblog these with feedback and add them all to a masterlist. I want to post the masterlist on Shakespeare's birthday which is celebrated on April 23rd, so the deadline for fics is April 20th. Also, please tag the fic with #MuchAdoAboutSPN and #Angel's1.5k within the first 5 tags.

7. Try and post your fic on or before the day it’s due, April 20th 2017, but it’s okay if it’s late. Life happens!

8. Have fun!!

Sign Ups! Once a prompt combo has been chosen, I will write the blog's name beside the letter and move the Shakespearean quote to this list. Any Shakespearean quotes still under the prompts lower in this post are still up for grabs. If the letter in this section has a blog tag beside it, it's taken, so ask for a different one! Happy writing everyone (and if you want to discuss your quote, please message or ask me—I'm an English teacher who loves Shakespeare, so bring it)!

STATUS: Prompts are closed everyone! Deadline is April 20th, and I look forward to your fics!

A @buffylovesfoxmulder, 8.  “This above all: to thine own self be true. And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man” (Hamlet I.3).

B @arlaina28, 31.  “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother” (Henry V IV.3).

C @bringmesomepie56, 15.  “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them” (Twelfth Night II.5).

D @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog, 1. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so” (Hamlet II.2).

E @littlegreenplasticsoldier, 20  “Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once” (Julius Caesar II.2).

F @whatareyousearchingfordean, 39.  “What's gone and what's past help should be past grief” (Winter's TaleIII.2)

G @therealdeanwinchester13, 10.  “Lord, what fools these mortals be!” (A Midsummer Night's Dream III.2)

H @rachelladytietjens, 33.  “We know what we are, but know not what we may be.” (Hamlet IV.5)

I @ive-been-told-that-im-fangirling, 7.  “If music be the food of love, play on” (Twelfth Night I.1).

J @avasmommy224, 36.  “Tempt not a desperate man” (Romeo and Juliet IV.3).

K @kalliravenne, 11.  “I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?” (Much Ado About Nothing IV.2).

L  @hellssarcasticqueen, 19.  “The miserable have no other medicine, but only hope” (Measure for Measure III.1).

M @wi-deangirl77, 22.  “I am one who loved not wisely but too well” (Othello V.2).

N @destiel-addict-forever, 40. “You pay a great deal too dear for something that's given freely” (Winter's Tale I.1).

O @little-red-83, 18.  “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt” (Measure for Measure I.4).

P @mrsbatesmotel53, 25.  “We have seen better days” (As You Like It II.7) and (Timon of Athens IV.2).

Q @roxy-davenport, 5.  “Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall. Some run from breaks of ice, and answer none, and some condemned for one fault alone” (Measure for Measure II.1).

R @deansarms, 6.  “I burn, I pine, I perish” (Taming of the Shrew I.1).

S @atc74, 35.  “Friendship is constant in all other things” (Much Ado About Nothing, II.1).

T @chaos-and-the-calm67,  3. “The wheel is come full circle: I am here” (King Lear V.3).

U @besslincoln-bruh, 30.  “Strong reasons make strong actions” (King John III.4).

V @plaidstiel-wormstache, 21.  “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?” (Merchant of Venice III.1).

W: @waywardjoy, 2. “Is this a dagger which I see before me...or art thou but a dagger of the mind, a false creation” (Macbeth II.1).

Y @thegreatficmaster,  24. “Hell is empty and all the devils are here” (Tempest I.2).

Z @thegreatficmaster, 38.  “Pray you now, forget and forgive.” (King Lear IV.7).

Alphabet Prompts (A-Z): Choose a letter and (if I give you the okay!) include at least 2 (3 if you can) of the associated SPN topics in your fic.

**You'll notice that none of the major characters of the show are listed—anyone can write about Dean, even if they don't have the letter D. These characters/objects/themes need to appear in your fic, and should have some importance to plot, but just because you choose Meg Masters, it doesn’t mean you have to write a Meg x Reader fic (though, if you want to, that’s cool too), savvy?

Shakespeare Quotes/Phrases (1-40): Choose a Shakespearean line and (if I give you the okay!) let it inspire your fic. You certainly can, but you do not have to include Shakespeare's actual words in your writing. Like I tell my students, “The Bard (Shakespeare) wrote in a different time and the language has changed. That doesn't mean that what he has to say isn't still relevant—you've just got to look harder.”

The LEFTOVERS....

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“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts” (As You Like It II.7).

--

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“I would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety” (Henry V III.2).

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“Action is eloquence” (Coriolanus III.2).

“(Life) it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing” (Macbeth IV, 5).

“Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little” (As You Like It II.6).

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“Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day” (Macbeth I.3).

“Self-love... is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting” (Henry V II.4).

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“The course of true love never did run smooth” (A Midsummer Night's Dream I.1).

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“I am a man more sinn'd against than sinning” (King Lear III.2).

“We would not die in that man's company that fears his fellowship to die with us” (Henry V IV.3).

“excessive grief the enemy to the living” (All's Well That Ends Well I.1).

“There are more things in heaven and earth...than are dreamt of in our philosophy” (Hamlet I.5).

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“I will wear my heart upon my sleeve” (Othello I.1).

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“Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, but Lust's effect is tempest after sun” (Venus and Adonis).

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“If it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive” (Henry V IV.3).

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Go sign up quick!

A giant THANK YOU to my bestie, @waywardjoy, who helped me plan this whole challenge. You rock, chicka, and you make tumblr home. :D

Forever Tags: 

@2wonderinsighlents, @adaliamalfoy, @alcpegasus22, @andrastesflamingtitties, @angelofwinchester17, @alexastacio, @anokhi07, @ariethegreat98, @arryn-nyx, @autopistaaningunaparte, @avasmommy224, @bennyyh, @blackcatstiel, @bringmesomepie56, @bucky-thorin-winchester, @but-deans-back-tho, @casownsmyass, @cfordwrites, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @dancingalone21, @d-s-winchester, @deafgirlsarecooler, @deandoesthingstome, @deanscherrypie, @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog, @deanwinchesterforpromqueen, @deliciouslyshadowymilkshake, @demonangelimpala, @demondeansdomme, @faith-in-dean, @fandommaniacx, @feelmyroarrrr, @fiveleaf, @i-is-for-inspiring, @ilostmyshoe-79, @impala-dreamer, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @jencharlan, @jensen-gal, @jotink78, @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms, @katnharper, @kittenofdoomage, @kristaparadowski, @lipstickandwhiskey, @littlegreenplasticsoldier, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @lunarsaturn88, @marilynnlew, @millaraysuyai, @moonstonemystyk, @mrsbatesmotel53, @mrsjohnsmith, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mzpearlz, @notnatural-supernatural, @paintrider13-blog, @pinknerdpanda, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @rizlowwritessortof, @roxy-davenport, @rushernparadise, @salvachester, @scorpiongirl1, @skathan-omaha, @spnrvt, @supernatural-jackles, @supernaturalyobsessed, @theafinnerup, @thegreatficmaster, @torn-and-frayed, @vote-for-pedro, @waywardjoy, @wevegotworktodo, @wi-deangirl77, @withoutaplease, @writingbeautifulmen, @xtina2191, @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

Those who requested a shout out, but who aren’t on the forevers list (but who are welcome to sign up for that if they want to!):

@eyes-of-a-disney-princess, @wayward-mirage, @megansescape, @arlaina28

Thanks for following me everyone!