#broken tracking // sammy

[losers-clvb]

rebounded dean winchester x sam's ex-girlfriend!reader

content: mentions of sam cheating on reader in the beginning, sam and dean are estranged brothers, dean gets competitive with sam, smut (grinding, fingering, dirty talk, finger sucking, nipple play, slight mentions of marking, incorrect use of kitchen table, unprotected piv penetration, breeding kink (but no actual breeding, trust, not in this economy!), very very very brief use of "daddy", praise), sam calls during the smut and they answer, fluff

word count: 3.2k

note: this is a part two to "rebound". special thanks to @amourcri3s and @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth for inspiring this in the comments. here is reader's revenge on toxic!sam.

Surprise, surprise, Sam Winchester broke your heart. Again.

You were sure it couldn’t get worse than this situation.

You had come home from work, already having a shitty day, and all you wanted to do was cuddle up into the arms of your boyfriend. Unfortunately, he already had someone cuddled up into his arms.

Though, it was technically less cuddled up and more him fucking up into her while pornstar-quality moans filled the space.

You don’t know how long you had stood in the doorway, just watching them with watering eyes. When Sam finally looked up, he wasn’t kind enough to look remorseful or even shocked.

“Come join us, baby.” Sam had beckoned to you. You had let out a cry in response, dropping your purse to the floor.

Fast forward a heartbreakingly long 72 hours and you were fumbling with the key to Sam’s own apartment. You knew he was gone. Mason had managed to track him down, finding his location to be in a different state with the same girl he had bouncing on his dick on your couch.

You needed to grab your things and run. You were never getting back together with him, and this, taking back the few possessions that you kept at Sam’s place, would help you fully get away from him.

You took in a breath before stepping inside, quietly closing the door behind you.

“Mmm, you are not my little brother.”

You jumped, a small shriek humming from your throat. What the hell? No one was supposed to be here.

Your eyes flew to the small couch in the corner of the living room space where a man, a very attractive man, sat with a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He smirked at you, tilting his head to the side.

“Who are you?” The hot guy asked. You shivered at the way he growled the last word.

“I’m just gonna go,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around the door handle.

“You his girlfriend?”

Your fingers tingled with the familiar sensation you got when you were about to cry. Girlfriend. You weren’t, not after everything, but it was still hard to say out loud. You looked over your shoulder at the stranger, lip jutted out.

“Ah,” he sighed, like he knew about all the lies and manipulation just from your sad eyes. “What’d the bitch do?”

You blinked at him. Why did he care so much?

“Who are you?” You asked this time, voice small. He gave you a crooked smile.

“Dean.” When you furrowed your brows in confusion -- how were you supposed to know who Dean was? -- he continued. “Sammy’s big brother.”

“Oh.” Was all that you could say in response.

“He didn’t tell you about me.” Dean stated. He knew the answer.

After Dean caught his ex on her knees with Sam’s dick in her mouth just a week after they’d broken up, his and Sam’s fight had been too much to come back from. Fists flew, words were spat out, and Dean sped off in the Impala before he killed his little brother.

“I guess it slipped his mind while he was balls-deep in Kristy on my couch.” You immediately replied. You didn’t know where the sudden anger came from. Years of repressing it, maybe?

“You got a mouth on ya, sweetheart.” Dean smirked, enjoying every moment of this. He’d come to see Sam, maybe try to piece things back together since they were the only family they both had left. With you standing in front of him in the prettiest lavender dress he’d ever seen, he was quickly switching plans.

It was only fitting Dean sleep with Sam’s ex-girlfriend, just to even things out.

“Sorry.” You cringed at the apology that slipped out on instinct. Sam was always getting you to take the blame for things.

He had a bad day? It was all because you didn’t make his coffee in the morning. He flirted with a waitress? Well, maybe you should’ve given him head in the car before going into the restaurant. Even when he slept with other people, it was somehow your fault for not wanting to sleep with him the week beforehand. And you believed it every single time.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Dean beckoned you over, gesturing with his hand. “C’mere, angel.”

You hesitated. You shouldn’t be here, alone in Sam’s apartment with his older brother, who was making you feel so much better without even trying. You almost turned back around, walked out the door, and left this entire mess behind you. Almost.

Dean’s eyes were locked onto yours while you walked over. Your boots -- the ones Mason bought for you as a “reward for leaving that douche for good” -- made soft thumps on the flooring. You stood in front of him, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

“You still love him?” Dean finished off the rest of his drink and deposited the glass on the window sill near the couch. You shrugged. Yes was the answer that first popped into your mind until you remembered Sam’s proud grin at getting caught.

“I can help you forget him.” Dean spoke again, throwing his arms up casually on the cushions behind him. You dared to glance down at his spread legs. They looked like they would be nice to sit on. You wondered if he would feel like Sam, if he would be able to make you come like Sam had.

Only one way to find out, you decided.

You sank down into his lap, knees on either side of Dean’s thighs. Your dress rode up, lacy panties pressing against the seam of his jeans. He clutched onto your hips. If you wanted to, you could stand back up, no problem, but the grip still felt possessive, like you were his and he wasn’t ever letting you go.

You liked that.

“You wanna let me kiss you, pretty girl?” Dean asked, grinning at you again.

You swallowed down your hesitancy this time. You needed this. What was that thing Mason had said the last time you broke up with Sam? “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else”? You were certainly going to take her advice this time.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you kissed him. You were thrown off by his hunger as he kissed you back. He was motivated by something, this wasn’t just another lay. You didn’t care to ask. What difference would it make?

You rocked your hips into his, humming when you brushed against his belt buckle.

“Fuck, sweetie,” Dean growled into your skin when he moved to your jaw and neck. You slid your hands down his face, over his chest, onto the growing bulge that was pressing into your heat.

“Please,” you breathed when he bit into the side of your neck, just enough to leave a bruise, his tongue flattening against it to soothe.

“‘Please’ what?” Dean teased. His hands found their way up your bare thighs.

“Please make me forget your brother ever existed.”

Dean ignored the twitch in his cock and instead pressed both of his thumbs onto your clit. The lacy cloth did nothing to cushion the pressure. You moaned, kissing him again.

Your teeth and tongues gnashed against each other. Your shared saliva was spreading across your chins. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, not when Dean was rubbing circles into you.

The connection only broke to allow space for your dress to pass over your head, then he was right back onto you. You were glad you’d chosen not to wear a bra that day. It was just one less layer between you and Dean.

“Sammy ever fuck you good? He make you see Heaven when you come?” Dean groaned into your mouth, palming at one of your breasts, a thumb still swirling on your clit.

“Mhm…,” you answered, half-moan. You couldn’t lie. It was the one thing Sam was actually good at in your relationship. The man knew how to fuck.

Dean didn’t seem to like that. It was as if you had told him that he wasn’t good at sex purely because his brother was.

“I’m gonna be better.” He growled and pulled your panties to the side. He slipped two fingers into you, making you arch forward into him, whining in pleasure. You had no doubt in your mind he would be better, just from the sheer confidence he held.

“Dean,” you sighed as he moved his fingers skillfully.

“That’s right,” Dean curled them forward, right into that spongy spot that had your spine giving out from holding you up. You were completely draped onto him, not that it slowed his pace. “Remember my name. By the end of the night, it’s the only thing you’re gonna know.”

You held onto his shoulders, soft moans leaving your lips. You muttered his name like it was a sacred chant.

“De… oh, I’m…,” you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. He knew what you were trying to say. He licked into your mouth, moving his tongue in sync with the way his fingers were pumping and curling.

You came with a moan of his name, just the way he wanted. It wasn’t the last time he’d be inside you. He was never going to get enough of those noises leaving your mouth.

You were still hungry for more. You squeezed his bulge just enough to make him hiss in pleasure. He promptly pushed his fingers into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around them, sucking. The eye contact you held made him groan.

“Sam’s a damn fool. He’s out chasing pussy when he’s got the best one right here.” He kissed onto the length of his digits you didn’t fully reach. This taste of you lingered on his lips as he kissed you, his fingers still in your mouth. He hooked them around the corner of your lips, moving his mouth on you like he was a death row inmate and you were his last meal.

“You’re mine now.” He mumbled, finally dragging out of your mouth, spreading your saliva over your cheek. You panted and watched his hands unbuckle his belt, mouth watering when his fingers slipped the button of his jeans open.

You helped him pull his jeans off, scrambling off of his lap until you were standing there, lace the only thing keeping you from complete nudity.

Dean shifted forward, falling from his sitting position on the couch to his knees in front of you. He shimmied your panties down, letting you hold a hand on his shoulder for balance to fully get them off.

“Gorgeous.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to your clit before standing, hooking an arm under your ass to lift you up with him. Your legs found a home around his waist, hands holding onto his shoulders. He kissed you, holding you close to his chest.

“Kitchen… table…,” you gasped into him. Dean didn’t question this. He carried you to the small kitchen, laying you out on the counter. He kissed down your sternum before latching onto a nipple, sucking until you moaned.

“He ever fuck you here?” He asked, looking up at you from where he was licking a stripe onto the plush of your breast.

“No.” You smirked. You had a few ideas of your own to make Sam pay for his treatment of you, and the spark of competitive edge in Dean’s eyes told you this was the correct choice. This was the exact reason you’d chosen the table.

“Good.” He pushed his boxers down enough to free himself.

“No condom?” You offered. Dean raised an eyebrow at you with a smirk.

“You let him do that?” Everything had to give him an extra thing to hang over Sam’s head.

“No.” You bit your bottom lip. Sam used to try to get you to do it raw constantly. You didn’t want to risk it, pregnancy and STDs, since Sam was so friendly with the neighborhood pussy. This? This was worth any fucking risk, just to see how Sam would react to the knowledge of it.

“Good.” Dean growled. He ran his tip through your slick, loving the way you shivered at the touch. He finally pushed into you, slowly moving in, inch by inch.

You groaned, eyes rolling back when he bottomed out. He gripped onto your hips, pulling out almost completely before snapping back into you.

“So fuckin’ tight.” Dean rocked his hips back and forth. He folded over you, kissing you again. You whined into his mouth.

“Gonna let me come in you? Fill this pussy up until she can’t take anymore?” Dean grunted.

“Yes!” You bit out, voice cracking from the pleasure.

“Yeah,” he chuckled darkly, “‘Uncle Sammy’ has a nice ring to it. Really show him how bad he fucked up when you’re walkin’ around all swollen with my kid.”

You rolled your hips into him, clenching around him at the thought of Dean showing you off in front of Sam.

A chime from near the couch broke you from your thinking. Your phone. You knew it was Sam. It was the ringtone he’d picked out for himself, at your request.

“It’s him.” You breathed. Dean’s hips faltered and you watched a wicked shine flash in his eyes.

“It’d be rude to ignore him.” He pulled out of you, making you involuntary whine in protest. To his credit, he was quick to shuffle through your purse and get back to you.

“Hey, baby.” You heard crackle out from your phone. Crawling back to you again, it seemed. This time you weren’t falling for it. You had better things to do, like moan at the stretch that Dean gave you when he pushed back into you.

“What the-,” Sam started to question, but Dean cut him off.

“Hi-ya, Sammy.” Dean had the widest grin you’d ever seen. You ran your hands up the sides of your body, cupping your breasts as he thrust into you at a steady pace.

“Dean.” Sam grumbled. You could almost see the dark glare in his eyes as he said it. “What the fuck are you doing to her? I wanna speak to my girl.”

“Ah, ah,” Dean tutted, rubbing a thumb onto your clit to make you whine. “She’s a little busy right now.”

“She’s never too busy for me.” Sam sounded far too confident about that fact. Dean snapped his hips into you. A sharp cry left your lips.

“And she’s not yours anymore, Sammy.” Dean growled. He smiled down at you. Your eyes fluttered shut with a sigh.

“You can’t fucking do this, Dean. She’ll never leave me. She loves me too much.” Sam was fumbling for arguments. Dean laughed dryly.

“Let me paint you a picture, Sam. I’ve got her spread out, naked, on your table, tits bouncing. God, I gotta tell you, this pussy was made for me.” Dean leaned down to place another kiss on your lips. You were breathless, both from him moving so effortlessly into you and from his taunting to Sam. He sounded so mean yet so sweet at the same time.

“Whatever,” Sam huffed out, the poison of jealousy stinging through his voice. “Have fun with my sloppy seconds.”

“Mmm, Sammy, she’s not too sloppy yet, but she will be when I come deep inside her. Fuckin’ leave my mark, right, sweetheart.” You babbled out a slurred “yes”, arching your back when he pulled your leg to wrap around him, allowing him to go deeper. “She ever let you do that? Fuck her raw?”

Dean already knew the answer, but it pulled a smirk onto his face when he heard the flex of Sam’s jaw while he spoke.

“She wouldn’t let you do that.” He huffed.

“It was her idea, man.” Dean chuckled. He turned his voice back to you. “You gonna let me do that?”

“Yes.” You gasped.

“Gonna make me a daddy?”

“Yes.”

Dean groaned and threw his head back.

“She-,” Sam sucked in a breath, ��she loves me.” He was stuck on that. There was a time when it was true, and all he had to do was say it back in order to get you back. That changed the moment Dean kissed you like he had something to prove.

“Who do you love, pretty girl?” Dean asked you, grasping at your jaw. You opened your eyes, wanting eye contact for the words that were about to leave you.

“You.” You moaned, rolling your hips. “I love you, Dean. Only you.” You were laying it on thick, trying to prove a point. Was it true? You didn’t know. Maybe you loved Dean. You certainly loved the things he was doing to you.

You stuck your tongue out to meet Dean’s fingers halfway when they started to crawl up your chin. He watched as you closed your lips around three of them, sucking, never taking your eyes from his.

“Fuck, Sammy, can’t believe you let her get away. I’m not making the same mistake.”

“You fuckin’ ass-,” Sam growled, getting cut off again.

“Hey, we really gotta let you go. Talk later, ‘kay?” Dean didn’t wait for a response before ending the call, dumping your phone onto the table next to you. You hummed in approval. You hoped Sam was feeling just as shitty as he had made you feel. He deserved so much more than that, but it was a good start.

“Proud of you, angel. You did so fuckin’ well.” Dean grunted, using his newly freed hand to grip onto your hip. It was the last thing to send you over the edge. You clenched around him as you came, an incoherent whine sounding from you. It was muffled with his fingers still in your mouth.

Dean’s jaw dropped in pleasure and he slammed into you, chasing his own high. It didn’t take long before he was pulling out of you with a groan, spilling himself onto your lower stomach. A few drips of release slid down your waist.

You panted, keeping your mouth open to let his fingers fall free. A tired smile grew onto your face when he gently grabbed your bottom lip in his teeth. You closed your lips around his mouth, kissing him.

“Changed your mind?” You asked when he pulled away, looking pointedly to his cum still sitting on your stomach. He gave you a crooked grin.

“Figured I’d take ya out before I knocked you up.” Dean answered, rubbing soothing circles into the muscles of your thighs. You scrunched your eyebrows at him, ignoring the swoop of emotions flooding you at his words.

“Out?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, kissing the top of your bent knee. “Out. I meant it when I said you were mine now.”

The way he said it told you he not only meant it, but he meant it in a different way than Sam ever did. You were Dean’s in the same way he was yours. There would be no Kristy or Stephanie. It was you and only you.

You let him help you sit up and take you to the bathroom, running the shower to clean you both of the sweat and cum.

This was the best way to get over a breakup, you’d decided, especially when it was with the brother of the man who had broken your heart.

everything taglist : @littlesoulshine @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @mostlymarvelgirl @missus-ackles @tinas111 @ambiguous-avery

jensen ackles taglist : @arcannaa

[wendichester]

｡𖦹°‧ i see you in my dreams²,

summary. sam only ever sees you in his dreams

pairing. sam winchester x dreamwalker!reader

wordcount. 709

⋆.˚ ★— read part 1

Sam wakes up gasping.

For a second, he’s caught between worlds—between the motel room and the dream, between reality and you. His pulse is still hammering from the way everything went dark, from the way your voice curled around his name like a warning, like a plea.

Dean grunts from the other bed. “Dude, if you’re gonna keep waking up like that, at least warn me first.”

Sam drags a hand down his face. “Sorry,” he mutters, though his mind is already elsewhere. Already pulling him back to you.

He needs to sleep. Needs to find you again. But the harder he tries, the more the dreams evade him. For the first time in weeks, you don’t come.

The next time Sam sees you, it’s not in a dream.

It’s in real life.

And it nearly knocks the air from his lungs.

He and Dean are in some nowhere town in Wyoming, tracking a case that’s been all dead ends and half-truths. He’s thumbing through a book in the back of a dusty little shop when he feels it—this odd prickle at the base of his spine, like he’s being watched. He lifts his head and—

There you are.

You’re real.

You stand at the end of the aisle, studying him like you’re waiting for him to catch up, waiting for him to understand.

“Sam,” you say softly.

It’s your voice. The same one that’s been slipping into his dreams, curling around his thoughts. But hearing it here, in the waking world, makes something in his chest tighten.

“You.” It’s all he can manage, breathless, disbelieving.

Dean’s voice cuts in from the front of the shop. “Find anything good, Sammy?”

You flinch, like the spell’s been broken, and before Sam can take a step closer, you’re gone. He rushes after you, pushing past bookshelves, darting out the door—

Nothing.

Just an empty street.

He finds you again that night.

This time, he’s sure he’s dreaming.

You sit on the hood of the Impala, the world around you dipped in twilight. He doesn’t ask how you found the car, how you slipped into his mind again after so many nights of silence.

“I saw you,” he says instead.

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I know.”

“You ran.”

“I had to.”

“Why?” His voice is raw, frustration and confusion laced together. “Who are you? What are you?”

You exhale slowly, like you’re bracing yourself. “I told you, Sam. I’m a dreamwalker.”

His brows furrow. “I’ve heard of dreamwalkers before, but you—you’re different.”

“I had to be.” Your fingers toy with the hem of your sleeve, a tell. “I was born this way. A rare kind. Not just walking through dreams, but… moving. Between them. Between realities.”

His breath catches. That weight between his ribs, the one that’s been there since the first time he saw you, sinks deeper. “Then why find me?”

Your lips part, but the words don’t come easily. You look up at him, something vulnerable flickering across your face before you bury it deep. “Because I didn’t mean to.”

Sam takes a step closer. “But you did.”

You swallow hard. “I did.”

He’s close enough now that he can see the tiny tremor in your hands. And for the first time since this whole thing started, he wonders—

“Are you scared of me?”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t step back. “No, Sam. I’m scared for you.”

His pulse stutters. “What does that mean?”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “It means… you were never supposed to see me. You were never supposed to remember.”

Silence stretches between you, thick with things unsaid.

Sam wets his lips. “And yet, here we are.”

Something like sadness flickers over your face. “Here we are.”

He doesn’t know who moves first—maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you. But suddenly, you’re so close he can see the specks of light in your irises, the way your lashes flutter when you blink. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to touch, to know if you feel real in his hands the way you feel in his head.

And then—

Your hand lifts. Just barely. Like you’re about to touch him too.

But before you can, the dream shatters.

⋆.˚ ★— read part 3

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @mrs-pondwater19 ⋆ @myceliumsunshine ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @bamboobooshark ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @szyszoszelest ⋆ @angelicalm3ss ⋆ @writtenbyhollywood ⋆ @larasalii ⋆ @yeehawgiddyup13 ⋆ @xo-zeze ⋆ @jules-pagie ⋆ @freeluigihesbae ⋆ @viarasvogue ⋆ @ladykitana90

[morganwrites12672]

2003 - Twenty-One Years Old

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your doorstep after Sam leaves for Stanford. His emotions are at an all time high, this leads to a confession.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Enjoy! Here's the link to the rest of the series: 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤.

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

Her life had changed after that day.

She had deleted Dean's phone number. Everytime John Winchester stopped by her father's house she found a way to be gone. Whether it was doing a grocery run even though she'd went the previous night or faking a cold. She couldn't bear to see Dean again.

The thought of him still made her chest ache. She had left that motel with tears in her eyes and never looked back. It had broken her heart to leave like that. It'd left a hole in her chest that she couldn't fill with anything, no matter how much she tried. It might have been three years but the pain was still raw every time she thought of him.

It was impossible for it to not hurt. Dean had been her first love. Well, that and her first heart break. She didn't live remembering how everything had went down in the end. Being special to someone had seemed like such a good thing. Until she discovered that she hadn't been as special as she had thought to Dean. He might not have actually cheated on her, but knowing that his eyes went to every other girl still hurt.

A lot had changed since then. She was older and wiser. She had grown up a lot from the socially awkward mess she had been whenever she had been with Dean. Growing up so isolated from healthy friendships where people knew her real name had definitely stunted her emotional growth. Not anymore. She'd done some growing up since she's turned eighteen. She'd had three years of freedom as a legal adult.

She might still live with her father but she didn't stay home all of the time. Hell, she even worked cases on her own sometimes. Sweet, sweet freedom. It felt great. She wasn't just some little kid anymore, no. She was a hunter. Saving people and hunting the things that go bump in the night felt good.

A knock on the front door jolted her out of her thoughts. Her father wouldn't be back from his hunt for a few more days, he'd called her to tell her that this morning. She couldn't think of anyone who would show up without an explanation, not this late. Gladys would have fallen asleep hours ago.

She peeked through the window and her heart caught in her throat. She could see the all too familiar Impala parked in the driveway. Pulling the door open she was greeted with the sight of someone who was all too familiar to her. What was Dean doing here? And why so late? Those questions and many more raced through her head.

"Dean?" She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She took in how he looked now... damn good, like always. It was startling to notice the dried up tear tracks that currently stained his cheeks. She knew that she should say something, start the conversation. Maybe even ask if he was okay. And yet, she couldn't. Any other words that she might have said got stuck in her throat.

Dean looked at her, he was staring really. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She looked just as perfect as she had the day that she'd left after that stupid argument. Dean had many regrets about letting her leave. But, he had been young and stupid. It had been three years. He had grown up a little bit since then.

"S-sammy left." His voice was hoarse, she could hear the strain in it as Dean tried to keep so many of the emotions he felt inside.

His words made her eyebrows furrow. She had many questions. They would all be able to wait a little bit though. She assumed that the younger Winchester brother had gotten tired of dealing with his father's shitty attitude and left. Not that she blamed him, not in the slightest.

She has gotten lucky with how kind her father had been growing up. Bobby had raised her well and had done the best he could. She still chose to stay there whenever she wasn't out hunting. He had never done anything serious that warranted her being upset enough to leave.

"Come inside," She said, stepping away so that Dean could walk inside.

She didn't have to worry about having to explain any of this to her father. Bobby wouldn't be home for a few more days. His hunt was at a convenient time. So was her week off. Any other week and the chance of it only being her father up at the house would have been fairly high. As he aged the older man went out on hunts less and less. She had began taking up more of them. Bobby was getting too old to spend all of his time out ganking monsters.

Dean silently walked into the house. He had been here recently. Whenever she wasn't home he stopped by to see Bobby. The older man was almost like a father to him. Actually, there was no almost to it. Bobby had been more of a father to him than his own father had been. John hadn't been the greatest guy. Not by a longshot.

"Thanks," Dean said, clearing his throat.

"Do you want a beer? Or something stronger?" She asked as she shut the front door. She had a feeling that Dean would opt for the second option. He looked like he could use a glass of whiskey right now.

"Something stronger," He replied quickly. "If you don't mind," He added after a second.

She nodded, disappearing from Dean's view as she walked into the kitchen. He had missed everything about her. The way she smiled, the sound of her voice after a long day, everything. Dean had loved her. Since he'd lost her he had tried filling the gaping hole in his chest with countless other woman. It hadn't worked, not even close. Sometimes he would be able to forget her in a night. Every morning after he remembered her though. It was impossible to get her out of his head.

In the kitchen she poured Dean a glass of whiskey and grabbed a beer for herself. She was not willing to be drinking something so strong right now. She planned on being as sober as possible tonight. She needed to remember as much of it as she could clearly. It wasn't often that she saw Dean. And, she wasn't sure how tonight was going to go.

Walking into the living room, she spotted Dean. He was lounging on the love seat, leg anxiously bouncing. It wouldn't have taken a psychologist to realize how upset he was over Sam leaving. She still had so many questions for her ex-lover. Something big must have happened whenever Sam left. Why else would Dean be a goddamn mess?

"Why'd he leave?" She asked softly, her voice smooth like marble as she spoke in that honey sweet tone of hers. She set the whiskey down in front of Dean, on the coffee table. She then sat down next to him.

The sound of her voice had Dean already feeling an ache in his chest. He missed her more than he would ever admit, to anyone. The thought of having a chance with her again was the only thing preventing him from crying anymore. He'd done enough of that on the drive over here. Now, he would handle things. Well, he would tell her about things. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his own emotions about the matter.

Dean picked up the glass of whiskey and downed half of it in one gulp. The amber liquid burned his throat as he swallowed. He welcomed the feeling with open arms. He needed something to help drown out his misery. He didn't think that he would be able to explain everything completely sober.

"He got into Stanford." Saying the words out loud made it feel even worse. "Dad was pissed. I've never seen him this mad."

She placed a hand on his knee. His words made her feel horrible. She knew all about how bad John's temper could be on what was considered a good day. Just imaging how horrible he must have treated his sons during that argument made her feel sick. She wanted nothing more than to wrap Dean up in her arms and tell him that everything would be okay. But, she couldn't. He wasn't hers anymore.

"You can stay here for the night," She said, unsure of what else to say. She couldn't say anything that would make this feel better. She could only try and help ease the pain Dean was in over all of this.

She scooted over on the couch, her thigh brushing up against Dean's. He melted into her touch as she pulled him into a hug. His head rested on the expanse of soft skin between her neck and shoulder. He could finally relax. He sighed, feeling the stress and emotional turmoil melt away in her arms.

For a minute he could pretend that everything was okay. For a minute, he believed that. He didn't have to think about everything that John had screamed as Sam had told his father about leaving for Stanford. He didn't have to think about his father or Sam at all. He could just be with her, and enjoy the comfort.

"You're going to be okay," She murmured, running her fingers through his short hair.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, his voice thick with unsaid words.

"You don't need to thank me," She replied.

Dean sniffled, clearing his throat. He sat up, trying to find the words to say. It had always been easy for him to speak with her in the last. The words had seemed to flow naturally, there was no walking on eggshells around her. She understood him and had loved him for who he was, flaws and all.

"No, not just for this. For everything," He said in a quiet voice. He missed her. Even if he didn't expect anything from her, he needed her to know. He needed her to know that she hadn't just been some fling to him. She had been his everything for a long while. She still was.

Her mouth went dry. Any words that she might have said caught in her throat. She hadn't been expecting the night to end this way. Whenever she woke up this morning she never in a million years would have predicted that this would happen, hell, she wouldn't have even thought that dean would show up let alone say something like that.

She wasn't the next one who spoke, Dean was.

"I've missed you. I-I know I screwed up."

His words shocked her even more. She might still love him, might, but that didn't mean that she could handle a relationship with him again. Well, it's not like she has a list of guys who she would rather be with. If she was being honest with herself then there was only one guy she could see herself with, and that guy was sitting across from her and asking for a second chance.

Dozens of replies went through her head. Not being able to find the words to speak made her use actions instead. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.

Dean went still for a single second before reacting. One of his hands went to her waist as the other one could her jaw. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding past her lips. Words couldn't describe the amount of emotion and heart ache that they both poured into the kiss.

The only thing that seemed to exist right now to them was each other. One of her hands slid around Dean's shoulders, wrapping herself around him. She sighed into the kiss as Dean lightly nipped at her lip. She pulled away for a quick breath, gazing into his eyes. Being without him had been hell. She needed him as much as she needed oxygen.

"I missed you too."

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

A/N: I think this is the last part for a little bit! Don't forget to reblog or comment if you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @lmhf1 @espressovz @illicithallways @tranquilitybasegrunge @ryoiii @delulu-101 @ladysparkles78

Join My Tag List Here: Tag List 

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Heatwave

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: You get heatstroke while out with your brothers on a case, and they take care of you.

“Stay in the car,” Dean said as he stepped out of the Impala.

“But it’s hot in here,” you whined as the car turned off and the leather seats started to bake.

“We won’t be long,” Sam assured you. “But you’re a little young to pass for an agent, so stay.”

You wanted to listen, you really did. But the longer you stayed in the car, the more it began to feel like you were just in a giant oven, being slowly cooked for some sadistic witch to eat. Where were your brothers? It had been over an hour. Whatever the witness had to say, it must’ve been pretty interesting.

Your lips felt dry, and your head was starting to pound. Once you couldn’t take it anymore, you unbuckled your seatbelt—burning your hand on the metal clasp as you did—and stepped out of the car to track down your brothers.

…

Sam turned his head when he felt a tug on his jacket to see you standing at his elbow, your face bright red.

“Sammy, I’m hot,” you mumbled, swaying slightly on your feet.

“Sorry about that,” the woman they were interviewing spoke up. “The air conditioner’s broken.” She was looking curiously at you, like she didn’t know why you were there, but she opted to ignore it.

“How about you go outside,” Sam said under his breath to you.

“It’s even hotter out there,” you argued, wiping sweat off of your forehead.

“There was a breeze out there earlier, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Dean said. You could tell your brothers were starting to become impatient; they were anxious to continue questioning the witness.

“Fine,” you sighed, shuffling out the door and down the porch steps.

“Seems a bit young for an agent?” The witness questioned finally.

“It’s—uh—take your daughter to work day,” Dean chuckled nervously. “Now, we just had a couple more questions for you.”

…

You wandered around for a couple of minutes in the woman’s yard, but when your headache worsened and your stomach began to ache, you opted to sit on the curb. The ground was hot, but the heat on your legs was still better than standing, especially when your vision started to spin. The dark gravel seemed to move in front of you, which wasn’t helping the nausea building up inside you. You played with the idea of going to get your brothers again, but ultimately decided there was no point. They would interview the witness until they had what they needed, and your nagging wasn’t going to make it any faster. On top of that, you weren’t entirely sure you could stand now without falling over, as you still couldn’t see straight.

The air was beginning to feel like a weighted blanket above you, pushing down on your shoulders and face until it felt like you were almost choking on the humidity. As pain pounded behind your eyes, you felt and heard your breathing start to labor.

Confusion clouded your mind. Were you sick? What was happening to you? Where were Sam and Dean?

As though the very thought of them was a summoner, a hand on your shoulder had you turning your head to see Dean, concern etched on his face. His voice sounded distorted, like he was talking from behind a glass wall.

“You ok, kid?”

Sam’s hands on your face had your head turning the other direction.

“Hey, just try to breathe, ok?” Sam’s eyes turned to Dean. “She’s really hot, she might be dehydrated.”

“Ok, let’s get you to some air conditioning,” Dean said, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you to your feet. “Whoa.” Dean tried to steady you as you wobbled in your legs.

“Hey, look at me.” Now Sam sounded like he was talking under water. You tried to focus in on his eyes, but your vision was too clouded. You could see the light tan of his skin, and the dark brown of his hair, but even that was becoming obscure as black spots darted in front of you.

“S’my…” your voice came out muffled, as you couldn’t seem to find the energy to open your mouth all the way. All the strength was seeping out of you one muscle at a time, until Dean felt all of your weight collapse in his arms.

“Hey, hey!” Sam slapped at your face as Dean lifted you into his arms, pulling you away from Sam and hurrying you towards the Impala.

The brothers reached the car simultaneously, and Dean laid you carefully in the back while Sam started the car and got the air on blast.

“Should we take her to a hospital?” Sam asked as he got in the passenger seat. Dean started down the road, already shaking his head.

“No. This town is too small, we can’t start drawing attention to ourselves with these bodies dropping, there would be too many questions we can’t answer.”

“But Dean—“

“Look, she’s either dehydrated, or it’s heatstroke. Either way, we’re gonna get her to the hotel, get her in a cold bath, and get her some water. If she doesn’t wake up soon, then we can talk about a hospital, ok?”

Sam didn’t argue, and within twenty minutes you were awake and alert in an ice bath.

“What—where—“

“Hey, easy kid,” Dean soothed, bringing his hands to your shoulders. “Don’t get up, just rest for a second.”

“It’s definitely heatstroke,” Sam called from the other room where he was hunched over his computer. “Just keep her in there until her body temperature goes down. She should drink water, too.”

Dean took all this information in while pressing a hand to your forehead, trying to gauge your temperature.

“How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

“Cold.” You shivered.

“Yeah, well, it’s better than the alternative.” Dean sighed, relief coloring his features. “You really freaked us out there, kid.”

You shifted guiltily, staring at your lap.

“I tried to tell you,” you mumbled shyly. Dean cringed.

“Yeah, yeah you did.” Dean grabbed onto your hands, letting the cold water cover both of your hands. You looked up at him. “I’m sorry, you’re right. This wasn’t your fault, ok? I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“It’s ok,” you mumbled, and Dean sighed again.

“No it’s not,” he said, more to himself than to you. “C’mon,” he directed at you. “Let’s get you out of there.”

…

Within ten minutes you were in dry clothes with about seven water bottles strewn around you.

“I can’t drink all of these,” you protested as Sam handed you yet another one.

“Sure you can,” Dean insisted, the ghost of a smirk haunting his twitching features. “Now go on.”

“Dean.” You huffed.

“Hey,” Sam interrupted. “Heatstroke is serious, ok? You gotta drink some water.”

“Ok, ok, but that doesn’t mean I have to start a drought,” you said, taking a handful of bottles and putting them on the desk next to you. “Now how long are you gonna make me stay in this bed?” Even as you asked, you yawned and made yourself comfortable.

Sam grinned. “You’ve gotta get a lot of rest for the next couple of days, but I’m serious, this was not good. We’ll have to make sure you’re not overheated, and you’re drinking enough water, for a few weeks at least.”

You sobered a little at your brother’s words.

“Weeks? It’s that bad?”

You regretted your question, because you now could see the way your brothers were kicking themselves about what happened.

“Yeah, it’s that bad,” Sam sighed.

“Hey,” you spoke up again. “It’s ok, alright? You guys were busy, and—“

“No,” Dean interrupted, his eyes hard. “No. A hunt should never be more important than you, ever. I’m not gonna let that happen again.”

“Okay,” you said. “I believe you, and I forgive you.” You remained stoic for a few seconds before your lips twitched into a smile. “And I’ll hold you to that.”

Dean chuckled softly, reassured.

“Please do.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade

[mrs-pondwater19]

~ The Fallout ~

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

-Lucifer Possessed Sam x Fem Reader

-Synopsis: You've disbanded from the team after Sam accepts to be Lucifer's vessel for the apocalypse. Going nomad and settling somewhere in rural New England away from what's left of society in order to evade the Devil and the Croatoan Virus. As well as survive the fallout of the apocalypse in peace. Only to be met face to face with a shell of the man she loved dearly. The meeting is rather interesting, recalling the days before the apocalypse, an unholy adoration, all the things that were never said, and experiencing the cold touch of the Devil.

WC: 1,899

A/N: Hello my loves, been reading some fics lately with Sammy and got a little Inspired to write one of my own. I've really been thinking about the idea of possessed Sam and how dramatically tragic it would be, not that I'm entirely one for angst but it's certainly fun to write. I also really wished they would've explored the endverse little more. Just more so seeing where everyone ended up. This story is not only inspired by the episode "The End" but also heavily inspired by the song "Fallout" by Neoni and UNSECRET. Just thought it would fit the vibe.

This story will be split up into four parts otherwise it would be ridiculously long lol.

I hope you enjoy💕.

WARNINGS: S5 SPOILERS, Depression, recollections, mentions of past relationships, grieving, isolation, desolation, slight mentions of death/disappearances, an unexpected visit.

"Hush Now, Dry Your Eyes.

Fate Is Upon Us.

The Changing Of Times.

Welcome Blood Red Skies.

Burn In The Wake Of A World Left Behind."

The wind blew gently around you as you sat in the dead, overgrown grass on the edge of a lake near your property. Overlooking the dark murky water that reflected the dull grey sky and the dark evergreen trees that surrounded you. A scene you had burned into your brain a long time ago.

A shadow of what was and will never be again.

It was a place you frequented every so often, finding a strange sort of peace in the ruralness of it all. Finding comfort in the silence of what used to be a place once full of life. Or so you assumed anyways. You came here after everything had transpired.

After you left everything behind.

But lately you'd been coming more and more, almost everyday. Staying longer and longer each time. Mindlessly staring at the water as if it cast a spell on you.

A spell of grief and sorrow that never seemed to wear off.

And your tears never seemed to dry out along with it.

With every visit you found yourself recalling how you ended up here in the first place all that time ago. The events replaying in your mind over and over again like a broken projector.

Events that left a hole in your heart that never seemed to heal no matter how much time passed. It was still as fresh as the day it all began.

That fateful day when you, Dean and Sam tracked the devil down to Detroit. Despite your better judgement, you went along with it.

The day he said "yes" to the devil.

The day he said the one fucking word.

That was the day the world truly ended.

The day Sam Winchester died at the hands of Lucifer.

You'd hoped and prayed that you'd never see that day, even though everyone warned all of you. All the prophecies that said it was destined to happen. You wanted to believe he was stronger than that, that the prophecies were wrong about him, and that he would say no and walk away like all the times before.

But he didn't.

That day was the worst day of yours, Dean's, and Bobby's on life. Watching Sam, being broken down after denying Lucifer so many times, wearily, but willingly hand himself over to be the Devil's vessel. Watching someone you all loved so dearly inadvertently end their life in front of you.

You would've denied it if you hadn't seen it for yourself. You would've called anyone who said Sam succumbed to Lucifer a goddamn liar.

But seeing the way the Devil forced his way into Sam's body like a hungry serpent. And all you could do was watch helplessly as the darkness completely consumed Sam.

Leaving no trace of his soul to be found.

After that, things started to rapidly change. Not only in your group, but the world around you as a whole. Even though the apocalypse started months before, with electrical storms, catastrophes, and the results of the four horsemen wreaking havoc on the world.

Something shifted.

Something bigger.

Something worse.

A virus.

A virus that Lucifer and his followers had been working as soon as he was released from the confines of Hell.

The Croatoan Virus.

Once it hit the mainstream, things were out of yours and any other hunters' control.

Mass extinction plagued the earth. Millions died within the first few weeks of exposure. Some came back as undead and crawled about, exposing others and spreading the virus like wildfire. Anyone who managed to evade the virus banded together groups in the countryside trying to survive with very little if given the opportunity. Or face the fallout alone.

When you, Dean and Cas formed your group, you hoped to find your place in the world.

But you didn't.

Instead you just felt lost. Unsure of where to go or what to do in this new world.

No matter what you did, you never seem to quite fit into it all.

And as much as you didn't want to. You knew you had to leave. Be on your own for a little while and sort yourself out. Using the excuse that you needed to find your way elsewhere and avoid the virus. Not wanting to risk contracting it and becoming a husk like being. Along with wanting to keep your distance from Dean. As much as it stung, it was a means to keep him safe when Lucifer would begin to seek him out. Knowing the first place he'd look was amongst his friends and loved ones.

Which they weren't complete lies. They were valid reasons for wanting to get away and be on your own for a while.

But deep down you and everyone else knew what the true reason was for you leaving your small group with Dean. Even if you never said it aloud.

It wasn't the same without Sam.

You weren't the same without Sam.

Everyone around you saw how different you were after that fateful day. How you were no longer your optimistic self, how you closed yourself off and began to just some distance between you and the group. Never taking up Dean's offers when he would go on hunts. Or when Cas tried to explain the situation with Sam rationally you just shut him down and put a barrier up, telling him you didn't want to talk about it.

You had become unreachable to the people who cared about you.

Even though you cared about the boys and loved them, you couldn't bear to be around the people you came to call family. Not without constantly remembering the memories before the apocalypse.

When life was simple.

Seeing them carry on without Sam was too painful.

And seeing the pain in their eyes as they watched you become something you weren't made your heart shatter. Feeling as if you were a stranger amongst the people you called family.

It was as if the day the Devil took Sam. He took a piece of you with him.

You knew you couldn't put your loved ones through that anymore. They already lost Sam, they didn't need to watch you die too.

So with a heavy heart, you said your goodbyes. Telling Dean and Cas that you were sorry for leaving, but that you'd be in touch.

That you'd miss them.

You even called up Bobby, letting him know you were going nomad for a little while.

He seemed to be the only one who understood why. And for that you respected him a little more.

Once you said your goodbyes, you left. Never looking back as you made your way up North to the thick, dense forest of New England.

Where you knew no one would find you.

"Down to the ashes.

Bones are left to dry

Waves of desolation

There's nowhere safe to hide."

Late afternoon set in as you sat on the edge of the water. Shaking your mind away from your thoughts when you heard the thunder rumbling in the distance. A gentle fog creeping in around you. Creating a small mist over the glass like water of the lake.

You knew you shouldn't be sulking the way you were. It wasn't going to help you or fix the way you felt.

It only seemed to make things worse.

But it also gave you a sense of clarity.

The world you knew before was gone.

A thing of the past now.

Most of the world had been burned to the ground, nothing but dry bones and ashes.

The angels had abandoned humanity and retreated back to heaven. Leaving you all to fight this war alone, expecting you all to fail.

That was reality.

But you had spent enough time wallowing and grieving about the past and what the world had become for one day. Fatigued from your neverending reminiscing, you found yourself looking over the lake one last time. Burning into your mind before brushing off your pants and making sure your gun was loaded before you turned away. Walking down the path you had beaten all that time ago when you first came to this desolate place.

As you walked, feeling the dead grass crunch softly under your boots. It was calm, the sound of birds chirped in the distance, the ambient sounds of the forest filled your ears. The wind blew gently around you, the smell of wet moss, old wood, and fresh fog filled your nose as you walked on.

It almost made you forget all things that brought you here in the first place.

Until you felt something in the air shift. Feeling a sense of anxiety shudder throughout your body as the wind went still.

A chill slowly running up your spine. The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your heart beats thumping a little faster than before.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Because it all felt too familiar.

At first you couldn't place it, but you remembered the feeling. The unsettling dread in the pit of your stomach. The heavy weight that seemed to hang off your body.

What was it that made you feel so afraid?

Then it hit you.

When you realized what caused these feelings before now, your heart stopped dead in your chest. Tears were prickling in your eyes as you began to search around for the cause of your fear.

Of your heartache.

For him.

When you couldn't see him at first. You panicked, thinking it was some sort of trick your mind was playing on you. Maybe you had been out here for too long. And as a result you were feeling things that weren't there. That you were hallucinating.

But you couldn't have been more wrong.

Once you scurried down the path a little more, pulling your gun into position as you made your way past the misty kissed birch and cedar trees. Looking all around like you were surrounded on all sides, and yet there was nothing in sight.

But when you glanced at the patch of poison hemlock in a little clearing not too far off the path. That's when you saw him.

His clean, crisp white suit caught your eye as he stood there. Calm and peaceful as he admired the poisonous plant, caressing the flowers with care as if they were the most beautiful, fragile thing in the world.

He found you.

You stared at him in awe, the gun now slung at your side as tears silently streamed down your face as you tried to understand.

How could he have possibly found you?

But the truth was it was obvious. If he had a sense of who Sam was. He knew that Sam knew you'd flee to someplace like this. Somewhere quiet and quaint, somewhere isolated. So truly it was only a matter of time before he found you.

And in that moment, seeing him in the patch of hemlocks, the fog settled around his feet. How the crisp, pure white of his suit contrasted the dark evergreens and greys of the forest, how he seemed so unbothered by it all. As if he expected this to happen.

You realized you were never going to find a safe place to hide from him. There was no place you could hide where he wouldn't find you.

Because he would always find you.

~To be Continued~

[mermaidgirl30]

✨New Beginnings✨

Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Part 1

A/N: I loved writing this, it was so soft 🥹 This can be read as a stand alone, but it is a continuation of my fic Fortnight! I hope you enjoy! This is the ending I wanted for them 🥰 Might write another little cute one shot for them in the near future because I love them so much. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading and helping me with the mood board 🩷

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years healing, growing, and letting go. During a day at the lake, fate steps in when you run into Joel without a wedding ring on.

Word Count: 2.9k

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: fluff, flirting, making up for lost time, old flame, no use y/n, reader sees Joel again after 3 years, reader has a dog named Sammy

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The summer breeze of Austin rushes through your hair, the smell of fresh oak, the sloshing sounds of lapping blue water, and the feel of new beginnings permeates throughout the air. Summer. Your favorite time of year, your favorite place to be. Georgetown Lake. An escape, a picturesque safe haven where you can sunbathe and let Sammy, your golden retriever, pounce around the clear water as it splashes against his sandy fur. 

   You’ve been doing okay lately, healing, moving on like you should’ve a long time ago. After sulking around the house days after the mail incident with Joel, you knew it was time to do something, anything to make that pit of sadness wash away. You couldn’t face Tess again, face him, not after you broke down in tears the moment he slipped his calloused fingers firmly around your wrist. It was too much, too soon, too fresh. Even though it had been years since you’d broken up. You never quite got over him, his face, his eyes. But It was way past time, the time to move on.

   So you moved, put a sign outside your house to let everyone know it was on the market and sold to the first offer you got. You remember Joel’s face after he saw the posted sign in your yard full of dying roses. He looked so sad, the flecks of his dark irises shining in the February chill as you caught his eyes after hammering the sign in the soft ground. You were wilting more than your red roses, and you needed a breath of fresh air, a way to thrive and grow like your flowers used to be. It was your sign to flee.

   After you sold your house and moved half an hour away, you could finally breathe, the wilts of your lilting petals starting to bloom and thrive the longer you were away from them. 

   You saw the pictures of their wedding on social media, saw how truly happy they looked. You remember shedding a tear or two looking at the photographs, at her flowing wedding dress, at their shared kiss after saying their “I do’s”. It was enough to send you spiraling, enough to make you drop your laptop and crack the screen. And that was the last time you saw Joel Miller. There was no sense in dwindling over what if’s. It was over, done. You swore you’d never see his face again in the city of Austin. He was the past, you had to look towards your future.

   You got a new job, working for an environmental engineering company and helping with tracking the bluegill and catfish populations in the lakes around Austin. You liked working outside, loved being near the water. You always felt at home out on the lake with the soft sand sinking between your toes, the calm breeze always blowing away any worries of your messy life. But it wasn’t so messy anymore. It was peaceful, bright, made you feel alive. 

   You throw the damp tennis ball again, laughing at the way Sammy flops into the water and splashes around, eagerly fetching the soaked ball as he brings it over to you again. 

   “You ready, Sammy? Go get it!” you yell as you toss the ball back towards the water. He shakes his soaked fur and makes a run for it, but he stops half way and perks his fuzzy ears up at something in the distance. “Sammy?”

   You watch him pant happily and make a dash for it in the opposite direction, barking at nothing you can see. “Sammy!” You follow after him, sprinting behind as you hear his chipper barks and feel your hair blow back behind you as you chase after him. 

   “Sammy, come on! This isn’t like you,” you breathe out as you run until your legs feel like jello and feel as if you’ll pass out at any second. 

   Your bare feet drag through the sand on the shore, your breath feeling as if it’s on fire as you run and run and run until you finally see his giddy, long tail and golden paws that leap up off the ground. What’s got him so excited? He never runs up to strangers. 

   “Sammy! Come here, boy,” you clap your hands together as you walk towards whoever he’s got wrapped around his cute, fluffy face. 

   “I’m so sorry. He’s not usually like this. I…” You freeze, your breath hitching as you stare at the man that fully consumes your vision. Joel. 

   He looks over at you, a warm smile curling against the edge of his plush lips as his golden brown eyes crinkle down at you. It nearly takes your breath away. He looks so… good. 

   He’s filled out more, his flexed arms and broad chest clinging to his white t-shirt, corded veins twisting down his tan arms almost like you remember. He looks more buff, more healthy, like maybe he stopped drinking that amber colored whiskey he used to love. His grey threaded curls are grown out, his doe brown eyes more shiny, more alive than the last time you saw him. And he looks like he’s happy, so happy. It’s amazing what three years of not seeing him can do to your own mind. The sight of him almost makes you dizzy, delusional, like maybe this is fate. 

   “Joel?” you whisper out, your voice shaky and breathy as your eyes slide down his blue swim trunks, his leather sandals, his tan skin that seems to glow like glitter under the orange beams of the sunlight. 

   “Yeah, it’s me. Nice to see Sammy’s doin’ good. Guess he remembers me,” he chuckles as he bends down and scratches the back of Sammy’s fluffy ears. Sammy jumps up and licks the side of his face as another infectious smile takes over Joel’s glowing face. 

   Joel laughs as he wipes the slobber from his greying scruff and stands back up, bright eyes blazing through you as he flicks his gaze slowly over your figure. You feel a little self conscious standing in your too short denim shorts and baby blue crop top as you fold your arms nervously over your chest. Why are you so nervous?

   “It’s uhh… good to see ya. How ya been?” he asks slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as his hand drags through the curling strands that sit against the nape of his neck.

   “Good. Yeah, good,” you nod as your fingers dance nervously up and down your scorching arms. “What about you?” 

   “Yeah, I’ve been good, too. Busy, but that’s always good. Been workin’ a lot, contractin’, the usual.”

   You nod your head, watching the way his heavy gaze never leaves your eyes. Suddenly, it feels too hot, too intense. That spark simmers low in your stomach, that strong pull that you always felt when you were around him. It’s almost like you were meant to meet here like this, unplanned. Maybe it was fate. Maybe… but then you remember Tess. Where was Tess?

   “You, umm enjoyin’ your new place? House, apartment, wherever you moved?” His tone is gentle, like he’s genuinely interested in how you’ve been, where you moved. And it feels strange, but also like it needs to be asked.

   “Oh, yeah. Actually, I love it. I moved just a few miles from the lake. It’s so peaceful, being able to come out here whenever I want to.” Your eyes flick over the calm water, examining the gentle ripples of the clear lake, but then Joel’s deep voice brings you back to the present. 

   “Sounds like you’ve been doin’ good.” He gives you a lazy smile, one where it’s crooked and soft and so serene that you can’t help but smile back. 

   “Yeah, I really have.”

   “That’s good, real good,” he says as he nods his head, just continuing to stare at you in awe. And it’s like you’re just seeing him for the first time, that summertime glow just sizzling off his tan skin. 

   Your eyes wander over him, lapping up his broad muscles and dreamy smile and untamed curls. He looks so handsome. You don’t know what it is, but something brand new seems to shine through him. 

   “You look… different,” you say with narrowed eyes, trying to assess what exactly is different, but you’re not sure what. 

   “Yeah? That a good thing or bad thing?” he chuckles as he runs a hand straight back through his lush curls. The action makes your breath get caught in the back of your throat. 

   “I dunno. Think it looks good on you, whatever it is.” You smile nervously up at him and bat your eyelashes flirtatiously. 

   “Yeah?” he smirks as the flecks of his dark eyes glisten under the rays of the hot sun. 

   “Yeah,” you reply bashfully. “You seem more… happy.”

   He chuckles as he shoves his thick fingers into the pockets of his blue shorts. “Guess that’s what happens when a man stops drinkin’.”

   Your eyes grow wide as your mouth drops open. “You? The Joel Miller has stopped drinking his precious whiskey?” you ask dumbfoundedly. 

   “Mhm. Mostly. Haven’t touched a bottle in three months. Been doin’ good, feelin’ stronger, more sharp. Even been hittin’ the gym.”

   You smile warmly over at him, your eyes alight as you drop your arms to your side and nod, his words taking your breath right out from your chest. “Joel, that’s so great. I’m so… so… proud of you.”

   He nods slowly at you, the dimple indenting the middle of his cheek as his crooked smile makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. Like there’s hope. “Proud of me, huh?”

   “Yeah,” you whisper out. 

   “Well, that’s sweet of ya to say, darlin’.”

   Darlin’.  He hasn’t called you that in so long, you almost forgot how good it feels to hear seep off his sticky sweet voice, that gravelly lull that soothes your racing pulse in your chest. 

   You suddenly notice his left hand, tracing every inch, every tan speck of his thick fingers. It’s unusually bare, no gold ring like in the wedding pictures you saw online. It’s gone, vanished. Was Tess and him, dare you say… over?

   He watches you assess his empty ring finger, his eyes flicking over your narrowed, confused face as you stare so hard that you think your eyes might fall out onto the smooth sand. 

   You open your mouth, drawing air into your tight lungs, until you release the words you’ve been wondering this whole entire time. “Are you and Tess still…” You can’t even finish your sentence, afraid that maybe he’d just left his ring at home or left it at the jewelry shop to get polished up. 

   He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Nah. We ended things last year.”

   “Oh.” You’re dumbstruck, your mouth agape as he says the words you were almost too scared to hope for. Not that you wanted things to end badly between them, but somewhere deep inside you still wished that maybe one day you could find each other again. And as fate twisted its tethered vines around the two of you, it seems like this was meant to be. 

   “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say with tight knit brows. 

   “Don’t gotta apologize, wasn’t your fault.”

   “I know, but still. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

   He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives you a tight lipped smile. “After gettin’ married, we jus’ realized we wanted different things. Things weren’t the same as before, and we decided it was better off if we went our own separate ways. There’s no hard feelings, jus’ was better off not bein’ together. We gave it a good two years, but ultimately it jus’ didn’t work out, and that’s fine. Had a lot of growin’ to do after, found my own pace again. It was the best choice. I’m much… guess you could say happier now.”

   “Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad things turned out for the best.”

   “Me too.” 

   You give Joel a small smile, and he sends a dreamy one back your way, all crinkled eyes and that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at him. 

   He shifts his weight and digs his heel into the soft sand. His eyes look down towards the ground, then flick slowly up towards you, almost like he’s nervous. 

   “Hey, do you maybe wanna go grab some coffee this week with me?” His hand scratches the back of the scruff on his neck nervously as his jaw ticks from the building anticipation. 

   “Houndstooth Coffee?” you ask with a raised brow. 

   He chuckles warmly and nods. “‘Course. Only the best.”

   You smile in reply. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”

   “Great.” 

   You both stand there in the heat of the afternoon, gentle smiles pressing against both of your lips as Sammy barks and runs circles around you and Joel. 

   As if Sammy is trying to intrude on the awkward moment between you and Joel, he jumps up and presses his damp paws on your back which knocks you off balance and sends you lurching forward. 

   “Sammy!” you whine. As if on cue, Joel reaches out and catches you, wrapping his strong arms around your hips as he balances you back on your feet. 

   “Whoa there, easy now,” he chuckles as he lingers his big hands on your shimmering skin. Your mouth parts open, and you gasp as you look up to find kind, dreamy brown eyes staring down at you, almost like he’s mesmerized. And for the moment, it feels like the first time the two of you ever met, almost magical, but this seems new. 

   You hook a strand of hair nervously behind your ear and laugh. “Always showing up at the right time it seems.”

   “Yeah, seems like it,” he smiles kindly. 

   You stand there breathing his air, feeling a little dizzy at the smell of his woodsy scent, no more whiskey fragrance lingering in his sandy hair. You feel the tension, the chemistry just bursting at the seams. And you know now that this was fate, it had to be. 

   Joel gives Sammy a couple more scratches behind the ears and then looks over at you with a crooked smile. “Well, it was good seein’ ya again. Been a long time,” he sighs while you nod in response. 

   “Yeah, it really has…”

   Another long minute goes by and then he’s taking one hesitant step back. “Well, guess I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll umm text you about coffee.”

   Before he can take another step back, you hold your hand out as if to reach him. “Wait.” He ticks his jaw and knits his eyebrows together as he waits for you to finish. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

   He smirks over at you. “Jus’ thought I’d let you get back to enjoyin’ the lake. Figured I was interruptin’.”

   You shake your head. “No, not at all. Please, stay.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, and he chuckles in response as his dark brown irises seem to glow in the sunlight.

   “Always knew how to get me with those big, beautiful eyes.”

   You crinkle your nose up at him and bag your eyelashes sweetly up at him. “What, like this?”

   He just crosses his broad arms over his chest and smirks over at you. “Mhm. Jus’ like that, gorgeous. Jus’ like that.”

   Your cheeks heat up as you feel the crimson blush taking over, lingering your fingers against his wrist as you ask sweetly. “So, will you stay?”

   Joel nods and smiles. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ll stay.”

   And he does stay, until the sun starts to slip under the fluffy clouds. He stays the entire afternoon, walking along the shoreline with you, playing fetch with Sammy, catching up on lost time together, starting fresh. It’s almost like he never left, picking up right where you left off. And maybe it was supposed to be like this. Like you had to fall apart to fall back into one another. 

   And when the sunset starts to fade to light purples and pink colors in the distance while you sit on the edge of the wooden dock, he leans over and kisses you softly. It’s like the world fades to black, and there’s only you and Joel getting lost in one another. His hands cradle your face softly, his plush lips melting into yours as you taste him and let the syrupy taste mix in with yours. 

   This is how it was supposed to be, how it was always supposed to be. You had to find each other later in life, begin again, have this special moment in time. It was fate, always had been. He was always the one for you, and this just solidifies it. 

   When he breaks the kiss, you lean against him while he wraps a large arm around you. You gaze out to the calm blue water and take a breath of fresh wildflowers in the air. “Joel?”

   “Hmm?” he hums as he looks down at you. 

   “Thank you for staying.”

   He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “‘Course, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Gonna just stay right here with you in my arms.”

   You lean your full weight into his warm chest as he scoops you up into his lap and hooks his arms around your waist, his lips lingering against your jawline. You take a deep breath and smile as you look out against the misty lake. You were finally home, with him. 

   Your forever. 

Tags: @laurrrra @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @littlevenicebitch69 @honey-dip-24 @sawymredfox

@orcasoul @thundermartini @solllaris @vivian-pascal @jessthebaker @vie-is-punk

@hoeruiner @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @amyispxnk @morallyinept @milla-frenchy

@laramc-02 @keylimebeag

[deansleathercoat]

Big Brother (v1?)

Just a small end of week fic

Agere , mention of death , nightmares , involuntary regression , agere , thumb sucking , use of mommy nickname, meltdown

The moonlight filtered through the thin curtains of the motel room, casting faint shadows across the small, cluttered space. Dean Winchester had finally managed to fall asleep after the chaotic hunt that had nearly killed them both. He lay sprawled across the bed, one arm draped over his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of the world. Sam, on the other hand, was curled up on the other bed, tucked under the thin, scratchy blanket, his body still tense from the events of the night.

Dean woke suddenly around 2 a.m. to the sound of something that immediately tugged at his heartstrings—soft, muffled sobs. His eyes shot open, and he could see the faint outline of Sam on the bed. His younger brother's body was shaking, curled into a tight ball, and the faintest sounds of whining drifted through the still air.

"Sam?" Dean called softly, his voice rough with sleep as he sat up, confusion clouding his mind. His brother was still grieving Jess's death, but tonight felt different. There was a desperation in the whines, a depth of longing Dean didn’t expect.

“Sammy,” Dean whispered, standing up from his bed. As he approached the bed where Sam lay, he noticed the soft, rhythmic motion of Sam’s thumb moving in and out of his mouth, his pillow clutched tightly to his chest as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Dean froze in his tracks. His heart sank, and a wave of guilt washed over him. Sam's voice—high-pitched, frantic, and broken—was muffled by his thumb as he whimpered, “Mommy… please…”

Dean felt a pang in his chest at the sound. He had known Sam was struggling. Hell, he was still struggling with the loss of Jess—both of them were—but this? This was something else. He had never heard Sam cry for ‘Mommy’ before. And he definitely wasn’t a kid anymore—he wasn’t supposed to need comforting like this.

“Sam, what the hell...?” Dean whispered to himself, leaning closer to his brother. He reached out, lightly shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Sammy. Talk to me.”

Sam didn’t respond at first, his thumb still sucked securely into his mouth, his face scrunched in distress. He looked younger than his 22 years in that moment, smaller and more vulnerable, like a child desperately trying to calm themselves. Dean’s heart broke at the sight, but confusion only swirled harder in his mind.

Dean sat down at the edge of Sam's bed, his eyes softening as he observed his brother's body trembling, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. He gently placed a hand on Sam’s back, trying to soothe him. “Hey, it’s okay. You're alright.”

Sam whimpered again, and his words came out garbled through his thumb, “I... I want her... please…”

Dean swallowed hard, a deep ache building in his throat. He gently took Sam's hand from his mouth, guiding it away from his thumb. “Sam, you gotta talk to me, buddy,” Dean coaxed, his voice low but full of warmth. “What happened? What’re you dreaming about?”

Sam’s body trembled even more, and for a long moment, he just sobbed softly. His face was a mess of confusion and fear, his eyes still closed as though trying to escape something that wasn’t there anymore. Then, after a moment of silence, Sam finally whispered, barely audible, “I was… I was little again. I didn’t want to be alone. I needed her... I needed... Mommy.”

Dean’s stomach tightened as he processed Sam’s words. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it. He hadn’t been prepared for this—not for Sam regressing like this, not for the broken little brother in front of him.

Dean realized then that it wasn’t just a nightmare. It wasn’t just grief over Jess. Sam was regressing.

“Sam,” Dean began, voice gentle but filled with quiet concern, “Is this... is this something you've been doing? It’s okay if it is, just... I need you to tell me. You gotta talk to me.”

Sam didn’t answer right away, but his hands were still gripping the pillow desperately. His body stiffened, trying to hold on to some semblance of control, but the overwhelming emotions kept slipping through the cracks. Finally, Sam spoke again, in the small, frightened voice of a child, “I… I can’t stop. I don’t know how...”

Dean took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around Sam, pulling him into his chest. He cradled his brother like he was still a child, like the helpless little boy he used to protect. “It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean whispered soothingly, rubbing his brother’s back. “You’re okay. I’m here. Big brother’s here. Always.”

Sam, exhausted and overwhelmed, finally let himself sink into Dean’s arms, his body relaxing as he gave in to the comforting presence of his older brother. Dean kept rubbing his back, whispering soft reassurances until Sam’s sobs slowed, and his thumb found its way back to his mouth. Dean didn’t mind. He wasn’t going to make Sam stop. Not tonight.

After a while, when Sam had calmed down enough, Dean moved them to his bed. Sam curled up beside him, his thumb still gently in his mouth, his body curled into Dean’s warmth. Dean rubbed his back softly as his brother drifted back into a fitful sleep, his breaths slow and steady now.

The room was quiet once more, and Dean felt a sense of peace wash over him. Sam was safe. They’d face the world together, as they always had.

In the morning, when Sam woke up, groggy but comforted by the warmth of his brother beside him, Dean was already up, cooking breakfast in the small kitchenette.

Sam’s voice was soft, a little sheepish. “Hey, uh... you remember last night?”

Dean turned around, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I remember, Sammy. And I ain’t mad at you. Like I said last night—your big brother’s here. It’s okay.”

Sam nodded, his eyes still clouded with a bit of embarrassment, but Dean could see the gratitude in his gaze. He was okay. They were okay.

As they got ready to hit the road once more, Dean handed Sam a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, his protective older brother instincts still fully in place. “You good to go?” he asked quietly.

Sam nodded again, taking a bite of the food. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Dean smiled. “Alright then. Let’s hit the road, kid.”

As they drove off into the morning sun, Dean kept a careful eye on Sam, his brother’s quiet nature serving as a reminder that even the strongest people had their moments of vulnerability. And when those moments came, Dean would be there to catch him.

Always.

[rainystressed247]

Can you describe Dream’s mood swings/what he’s like in general in this au?

Dream is like a ticking time bomb for the lack of a better word. In the beginning, Sam tried to keep track of his mood, to know exactly when it is safe for him to enter the cell. Basically, there are times when Dream is described as ‘calm’ which means he does nothing but space out. ‘Unnerving’ is the state when he starts humming broken tune or ‘Bye L’Manburg’, sometimes he will start dancing in the cell or sway to an unheard melody.

‘Alarming’ is when Dream starts to injure himself. Like slamming his head against the wall, burning himself in lava, scratching himself and pulling out nails/hair.

‘Red’ is when Dream has violent outbursts, where he inflicts harm on others and display impressive destructive power. The ‘incident’ is classified under this.

Sam has to install a mute button on surveillance after Dream kept calling him ‘Sammy’, questioning his sin, asking if he has prepared another ‘playmate’ or has he come to play?

Threaten of harm doesn’t work on Dream. He gets excited instead and will go as far as respawning himself so that Sammy and sir have a fresh canvas. Yeah, he is crazy, crazy.

[myceliumsunshine]

Two Days Later - Sam Winchester

Part 1 Here

A/N - Part Two! Based off of an oc but has no name, and uses she/her pronouns. Only feature is has long enough hair to go in her mouth. Vaguely based on Percy Jackson! TW vomit, spit, references to alcohol. Enjoy!

Sam quickly hurried his drunkards into the Impala. For a second he stared back at the club, looking for any indication how 2 days could have passed in the span of what felt like 20 minutes. When his eyes locked with the bouncer’s, he turned around and got into the car, and drove the trio back to the motel they had decided to stay at 3 nights ago.

No. Not 3 nights ago. 5 nights ago.

He pulled into the motel parking lot, parked the car and rested his head on the steering wheel.

Dean laughed drunkenly at something in the backseat. Sam turned to look at his brother, who was poking the girl beside him. She was half asleep, her head resting on the window of the car, swatting Dean’s hand away half-heartedly.

“Quit it, Dean.” Sam groaned. Dean turned to him with another laugh, eyes wide like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

“Yeah Dean,” She mumbled. A second later she snored softly, signalling to Sam that he needed to get the two of you out of the car and into the motel room.

He hopped out of the car and walked over to Dean’s side, figuring he can leave the girl in the car asleep for a few minutes while he puts his brother to bed. Opening the car door, Sam caught Dean and hauled the older man to his feet. Pulling the key to the room out, Sam slumped his brother against the wall as he opened the door to the room, before sitting him down on the bed.

“Sammy.” Dean whispers, grabbing his brother by the collar and dragging him so that he’s face to face with the older boy.

“Dean.” Sam whispers back with a bewildered look when Dean doesn’t continue.

“Be good to her.”

Sam sighs, pulling away and taking off his brother’s shoes, before pushing him back onto the bed and tucking him under the covers. Dean is asleep in seconds, snoring loudly.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” Sam murmurs quietly as he wakes her and pulls her from the car.

“‘M sleep, Sammy.” She slurs back, arms wrapped around him, head on his chest as Sam practically drags her into the motel room.

“I know. But let’s get those shoes off first, then I’ll tuck you in and we can talk in the morning.”

“Mkay.” The girl agrees sleepily. Sam sits her down on the bed softly, and pulls the heels off of her feet. How she hadn’t broken an ankle dancing on top of that bar, Sam had no clue. Heels weren’t her typical shoe, in fact, Sam hadn’t realised she even owned a pair. She preferred joggers, something easy to run in, which came with the trio’s job.

Sam placed the shoes on the ground next to the bed, and suddenly she was up, rushing into the bathroom like she was on fire. Sam followed quickly, standing in the doorway with an apologetic frown on his face as she heaved into the toilet. He dropped to his knees beside the girl, pulling her hair out of her face and rubbing her back. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Get it all out.” Sam whispered soothingly as she whimpered, heaving again with nothing coming out. Tears streaked her face as the pair sat beside the toilet for 20 minutes, until she finally stopped heaving and gagging.

“Sammy.” She sobbed.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” He said softly.

“Nee’ a hug, Sammy. Nee’ you.” The girl before him had always been clingy when she was sick, but with the spit dribbling down her chin, and the tears burning tracks in her cheeks, she looked particularly sad. Sam pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back.

“Let’s get you to bed. Tuck you in and you can have a nice sleep, okay?”

“Mkay.”

He tucks her into bed, and presses a small kiss to her forehead, before turning to go set himself up on the couch.

“Don’t leave me.” The small whimper comes from the mountain of blankets that Sam’s just buried her underneath.

“Oh.” He whispers breathily. “Okay. I won’t.”

He pulled off his own shoes, checking the door’s locked quickly, much to her disdain, before slipping into the bed next to her. She turns towards him and tucks herself into his arms immediately, placing her head on his chest like it belongs there.

“G’night.” She whispers.

“Night.”

A/N - Tell me if you want more, cause I have more planned!

Edit - Part Three Here!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Plush: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, feeling broken and utterly helpless to the point of depression

Summary: A case about a killer bunny brings you to Stillwater, Minnesota where Donna is expecting your help. Halloween is right around the corner, and you're doing everything you can to keep yourself from falling apart. It helps seeing your family safe knowing nothing is out to get them.

Season Eleven Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

This man is innocent despite killing someone on the fourth floor, and you let him go after getting the costume back from him. You had a basic conversation with him so you can connect the dots back to Chester, but you don't recognize anything about who he is. Donna is called down to the hospital and meets you in the Coach's blood-soaked room. He is wheeled out of the room in a body bag, and you sigh at coming here too late.

"Did you get a story out of the clown?"

"Yeah, his name is Steve Buress, sixty years old and a retired general practitioner. Apparently, he was playing dress-up with his grandson, and the next thing he knew... He doesn't even know how he got to the hospital."

"Did he 'escape', too?"

"Yeah."

"I'm so losing my job," Donna sighs.

Doug walks into the room none the wiser about what's going on.

"I was on my way to Woodbury to pick up a Woodpecker costume when I got the call about the coach."

"Yeah, killer clown. I already put out an APB on him."

"What the heck is going on in this doggone town?"

"Told ya. Copycat killers."

"You're telling me this is a copycat of a copycat?" Doug asks, skeptical.

"Come on, Doug. It's not that hard to wrap your noggin around, is it?"

Donna is a bit short with him and he understands he's not needed here.

"Whatever you say, Sheriff. I'm gonna go get the Woodpecker."

When Doug leaves, you look at Donna with a knowing look on your face.

"What is that look for?"

"You know, you won't get hurt every time. It's scary, but he looks like he'd treat you right."

Donna doesn't deny what you're saying because she knows Doug has a thing for her. It's clear in the way he looks at and speaks to her.

"What do you know? You married your childhood best friend."

"Yeah, I did, but I remember what you said about your ex-husband. He was a dick but this one doesn't seem so bad."

Donna refuses to meet your eyes. "We have a case to solve."

You take out your phone once Donna leaves and call Dean to let him know what happened.

"Killer clown? Are you serious? Man, don't tell Sammy," he laughs. "Did you take care of it?"

"Yeah. Is there anything you can tell me about the victims and Chester?"

"According to county records, Steve and the Coach were besties from way back who accused Chester of crossing the line with their kids. They didn't want to go to the cops because they didn't wanna embarrass their kids. So, they decided to track down Chester themselves. They went to his house and got Rita instead."

You sigh. "She lied to us."

"Apparently. Anyway, Rita told them to screw off. Before they had a chance to confront him, he killed himself."

"Suicide led to a vengeful spirit. It's not like we haven't seen it before."

"Maybe it wasn't suicide."

"Can you come pick me up? We can go to Rita's together."

"Sure."

By the time Dean picks you up and drives to Rita's house, the sun has already gone down. You knock on the door expecting Rita to answer it, but it's her son who does.

"Hey, Max. Is your mom home?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, we just needed to ask her a few more questions. May we come inside and wait?"

"Sure," Max shrugs.

You walk into the room and notice a stack of cards on the coffee table.

"Is that poker? I can show you a move or two," Dean chuckles.

"It's a magic trick that my uncle taught me."

"You two were pretty close, huh?"

"Yeah, he was cool. I miss him," Max sighs.

"He sounds like a good guy."

"He was. What those men said about him wasn't true."

Just then, Rita enters her house with Sam hot on her heels.

"I don't appreciate you talking to my son when I am not home," Rita glares.

"Hey, we were just trading some card tricks, that's all."

"What are you even doing here? I told you everything I know." Dean looks at Max which tells Rita that he shouldn't be here for this conversation. "Honey, go to your room."

Max leaves without a word and Rita runs a hand through her hair in frustration.

"We know that the coach and Stan confronted you about Chester," Sam says, and she turns to him in anger.

"That is none of your damn business. It has nothing to do with any of this."

"Those men were murdered. Whether or not you believe it, your brother is connected."

"How? Chester is dead. He killed himself."

"Are you sure about that?" Rita scoffs loudly. "Look, we need to know the truth. People's lives are at stake here. Your life is at stake... Max's life." She still looks apprehensive so you step forward. "I have three children myself. If I knew one of them was in danger, I'd want people to know about it."

"Okay, fine," she sighs. "A couple of months ago, Steve and the coach came by. They said that Chester was with their kids and did something... inappropriate. I got defensive. I mean... Chester was sweet, like a dad to Max. I told them to get lost. If they had a problem with Chester, they could go to the cops."

"They didn't, though, did they?"

"No, because they didn't have any evidence. "Eventually, I started to have my doubts. As much as I wanted to defend my brother... What they said really got under my skin. Chester was always a little off like he only got along with kids. That's why he became a party performer. I spent my whole life sticking up for my brother. But what if I couldn't see him for who he really was? He and Max were so close. I mean... What if he was hurting him, and I didn't know? Chester was my brother, but... Max is my son."

"I get you wanted to protect him, right?"

"Yes, but how could I look the other way? I had to suck it up and face my biggest fear. If not me, then who? I should've talked to him. I just should've gone to him first. Instead... I called Steve back and he said that they would take care of it.

"One day when Chester was working, I told them where he was. They promised me that they weren't gonna hurt Chester. They were just gonna scare him a little bit. I thought, you know, maybe a good scare was all he needed. They didn't mean to kill him. They said it was an accident, but I wasn't there so I didn't know what to believe.

"I wanted to go to the cops and explain what happened, but Steve said that we'd all go to jail. I couldn't do that to Max. He already lost his father and his uncle... He couldn't lose me, too. So, I didn't say anything. Fear cripples you. It makes you do nothing. Or worse... It makes you do something that you regret. I should've trusted my brother."

Sam's phone rings and he steps to the side to answer it.

"Hey, how's it going?"

Donna and Doug are responsible for getting every single costume so that you can put Chester to rest, finally.

"We tracked down every last costume."

"You didn't happen to see a deer head by chance, did you?"

"Deer head? That wasn't on the list."

"Oh, my God." You turn to see Max wearing a deer head mask. "Max!"

Max backhands the closest person to him which just so happens to be Dean. He falls into the table behind him, breaking it, and falling to the ground. Max hit him so hard that Dean passed out, so you put both Sam and Rita behind you to protect them. Your eyes shine blue in warning. You've dealt with him twice, you can do it a third time. Chester wants his sister because she turned her back on him but you don't give him the chance. You blast the ghost right out of Max, and he falls to the ground at the same time Chester, in black smoke form, flies around the room.

"Mom? What's happening?" Max asks, fearful.

You grab the head and toss it to Sam.

"Burn it!" He runs out of the house to do just that while you go to your husband. "Come on, baby, wake up." He does and blinks rapidly to focus his vision. "Get up. We're not done yet."

After Dean gets up, he walks to the kitchen to find some salt since all of his gear is in the car. Once he does, he forms a circle around Rita and Max. She clutches onto her son fearfully, not knowing what's going to happen.

"Whatever you do, stay inside this circle."

"I don't understand," Rita whimpers.

"Ghosts. You wanna know how this ties to your brother? Cause and effect. Wrongful death spawns a vengeful spirit."

"Chester!"

You and Dean turn to see Chester standing there with a glare on his face. Dean charges after him but Chester punches him hard enough for your husband to go crashing through the glass double doors that lead into the kitchen. Don't let him treat Dean like that! You raise your hand and blue magic flies out of your hand over to Chester. He lunges at you but you encase his entire body with your magic so he can't go anywhere.

"Stay the hell away from my family," you growl. Suddenly, he tips his head back and goes up in flames. Sam must have burned the only remaining mask that Chester was attached to. You rush over to Dean and help him to his feet with a worried look on your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Thanks."

Doug and Donna were called over as soon as they got word that there was one more mask left. Donna stands off tot he side with you, Sam, and Dean while Doug is with Rita and Max who are sitting on the couch.

"We should get out of here. It's Thursday night and we promised Noah we'd be here in time for Halloween," Sam says.

"Yeah."

"Here's hoping something less murderous brings you back to Minnesota, like Prince or cheese curd fest," Donna chuckles.

"You had me at 'curd'," Dean smirks.

"I don't know how you three do this, day in and day out. Figuring out who's possessed and who isn't. Your life's one big poop storm, isn't it?"

"Spoken like a true hunter."

"Really?" She smiles at Dean's remark. "Hunter?"

"Oh, yeah. With three cases under your belt, I think you earned it," Sam winks.

"Yay!"

Donna pulls Sam and Dean into hugs before moving to you. Sam and Dean leave the house while you stay behind to talk to Donna. Doug keeps looking over at her, not trying to hide his feelings about her.

"I know you're scared, Donna, but I can tell he's one of the good ones."

"Thanks," she whispers.

While walking back to the Impala, you take out your phone and text Molly you're on your way home. You'll arrive early Friday morning, more than enough time to prepare for Halloween weekend. You decide to take a nap in the back since this case took a lot out of you.

"You know, I keep praying to God because if it is God, and I know you don't think it is, then he's showing me something I don't know what to do with."

"What is it?" Dean asks.

"The cage."

"Lucifer's cage?"

"Yeah. What if he's telling me I have to go back? What if he's saying it's the answer to beating the Darkness?"

"Sam, no. No, that's not it. I don't know if these visions are coming from God or PBS or what, but we've been down that road. Anything having to do with that cage is suicide, and you of all people know that. So, no. Just... Not gonna happen."

"Okay," Sam sighs.

"Okay."

The kids were so happy when you finally got home in the early morning that you decided to let them skip school to prepare for Halloween and have a fun day. You're guilty of always being away, so that's another reason why you kept them from school. Molly left to go to her Halloween party Friday night so it's just you and your loving family to enjoy the holiday together. The kids got into their costumes, even the dogs. There is a nice neighborhood two blocks from the Bunker that you take the kids to, the same one where Noah's friends live.

Noah, as Spiderman, meets up with his other Avenger friends and runs off together. You keep an eye on them to make sure he's safe while still giving him the freedom he wants. Joanna is dressed as Tinkerbell and Dean is dressed as Peter Pan. It's kind of funny to see Dean in green tights but he'd do anything for his princess. Maryann is dressed like Boo from Monster's Inc with Sam dressed as an overgrown Sully. You're dressed as a Queen Bee with both dogs as your worker bees. They're unleashed but are good at staying by your side. You know you might get hate from other people about keeping your dogs off leash in a neighborhood full of kids, but you trust them to listen to what you say.

"Mommy! Look, I can fly!"

Dean holds Joanna over his head with one hand on the backs of her legs and the other hand under her stomach. Her wings flap as Dean runs around in circles to make it feel like she is flying. He takes off running to the next house and she squeals in laughter.

"Yes, you are baby," you grin.

"Kitty," Maryann grins and hugs Sam's neck.

Sam laughs and keeps her close to him as he follows Dean and Joanna. Joanna's laughter, Maryann's giggles, Sam's smile, Noah's freedom, and Dean's love. All of this makes the gray cloud above you go away, even if it's only for tonight.

As of right now, you're okay and that's all you ever want to be.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[520cafe]

sour grapes. trip down memory lane

it was already quite late into the day, around 11:01pm. as the ablaze sun falls asleep, the light-toned crescent moon gleamed amongst the blanket of infinite stars, casting shadows on the evening pavement to safely guide pedestrians back to their cosy homes. the streets felt rather isolating and lonely but, it was not suffocating either as you were not walking alone.

“seriously? kafka made you do that?” you asked blade in between your laughs as he walked beside you under the dimly lit street towards your apartment.

“yes, and she still owes me one for this.” he sighed, slightly cringing from the memory replaying in his head like a broken record. however, once he looked at your amused reaction, it appears that the broken record was fixed by the sight of your smile and laughter. “do you really enjoy seeing me like this?” he could not help but to tease.

“hey i never said that!” you lightly smacked him, as if you were as close to him as as you were last year. “it’s just nice seeing you with your people now, you look like you’re having fun these days.” it sounded genuine and sincere; your heart was pounding loudly and you were worried if blade could hear it.

during the time when you and blade were close, you two shared one thing in common: a heartbreak and a misfortune. this is exactly why you felt relieved and happy listening to blade talk about the shenanigans him and his friends get into. for a moment, you eyes looked dear and affectionate towards him.

“i could say the same about you, it’s nice seeing you again.” there was a slight hesitation in blade’s voice. he let out a gulp, even he was not aware of what he was nervous about. is there something else that he’s missing from the story?

blade suddenly halted in his tracks, you turn around and looked back at him in confusion before he gave you a lazy smile. “my dorm is in the other building. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you watched as he slowly disappeared from your sight, his broad back being the only thing that was facing you. once you ensured that he entered the building, you did the same with a small contented and excited feeling swirling in your chest.

🍇 SOUR GRAPES 〈 08 trip down memory lane

━━ MASTERLIST. ╱ PREV. ╱ NEXT.

╰► SYNOPSIS. after being in the same tight-knit friend group for over a few months now, suspicions begin to rise when march, seele and bronya start to notice the awkward tensions between you and dan heng. little did they know, you and dan heng were once high-school sweethearts who shared a romantic and fairytale-like past where the pages only lasted for a year. this heartbreak led you to meet another unfortunate victim of cupid but that chapter flew away as quick as stardust. yet, it appears that you two were also destined to cross paths once more.

╰► [ a/n ] : updates for sour grapes are now gonna be once a week every saturdays! also tysm for 200 followers holy shit everything is happening so fast but i’m so grateful tyty 🫶 i also like to clarify again that the taglist is closed so apologises for that </3

━━ TAGLIST. @lauvwar-r @sunsethw4 @shizu-c @amyena @zephestia @loudeggbananaranch @lunavixia @twistedrxses @shinjuuz @danhenglovebot @flos-veritatis @sammy-hammy @kiwidoves @aeongiies @heartswonder @lilactaro @lunnaeclipse @m1lley0ns @hansel-the-pierrot @astro-pioneer @aquatikk @obervation-subject-753 @vellichxrr6782 @rubberduckieyourtheone @viovya @stayriki @ceylestia @starryeyedkoko @theflameofyoursoul @kalims @liminalimmortal

[abarbaricyalp]

⚔️

⚔️: Hidden weapons Omg I've been meaning to write a fic like this for ages. Thank you for the prompt and nudge! I'm very sorry too. I don't know what this is lol

The first time Sam kissed another boy, he was eighteen years old and it was mid-October his senior year of high school and he'd just scored four unanswered shots around Jay in a one-on-one pickup game after school. He and Jay weren't friends, exactly. They were too competitive for that. Competitive in the classroom. Competitive on the court or the track or the field. Competitive in extra-curricular debate competitions from the Civics class they all had to participate in.

That fourth layup, while Sam was bouncing backwards to get the ball while taunting Jay at the same time, had broken something between them in the silent gym. Jay had hauled him up against the padding on the wall and kissed the daylights out of Sam.

Sam had had a lot of good kisses since then. He'd had hundreds with the love of his life and every one of those was special. But, still, there was something about that first kiss that had never been replicated.

Not until Sam was 36 years old (well, hell, that was a whole nother lifetime wasn't it?) and he was the one hauling a smug asshole up against a wall.

Bucky Barnes kissed like he knew he was good at it and like he never wanted to stop getting better. And, Jesus, had his hands always been that big? They felt like they covered Sam's entire waist, up and down and front to back.

"That a knife in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me, Wilson?" Barnes leered, head leaned back against the wall of a shitty little hotel room that Sam had tracked him down to. Based on the way Barnes was grinning, Sam was beginning to suspect it was less that he'd tracked Bucky and more that he'd been lured here.

Sam reached beneath his waistband and watched Bucky's pupils blow wide with desire. He pulled out a large Bowie type knife and stabbed it into the wall beside Barnes's head. "It's a knife," he said. "Don't flatter yourself."

Bucky had turned his head to watch the knife and now trailed his eyes along the shaft of it, the line of the handle, back to Sam's face. Impossibly, his eyes were even darker now. "That was so fucking hot, I almost came without you even touching me."

"That'd be a shame," Sam pointed out.

"Nah," Barnes said with a shrug. "I'd come right back, what with you in front of me? I've been waiting for this a long time."

"You didn't even know your name six months ago."

"Nah, but I knew what you looked like."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the assassin in front of him. "How is this the first part of your personality that you remember?"

"Good inspiration. Now, come on, take your clothes off."

In an instant, he had them flipped, Sam against the wall and Bucky with all the free space of the shitty room to his back. He sank down to his knees and, yeah, alright, Sam's brain fuzzed out for a second. When he came back online, Bucky was pulling a knife from an ankle holster.

"You wear this all the time, or do you just get dressed up for me?" Bucky asked, looking up at Sam with bright eyes beneath dark lashes and dark hair he kept flipping out of his face.

"You're not that special," Sam lied. "Just like all the other assholes I've been having to deal with recently."

Bucky grinned. "Now, don't go mentioning all your other guys. Gonna make me jealous, Sammy."

He sat up a little, undoing Sam's jeans the rest of the way and pulling them down. His tac belt fell against his hips heavily. Bucky genuinely licked his lips as he examined it.

"This one I know is for me," he said, then put his mouth right above the holster wrapped around Sam's thigh, the one the bigger knife had been in. Sam's hips jerked forward into Bucky's face. It just made Bucky flatten his tongue against the inside of Sam's thigh and drag his tongue up until he hit the edge of Sam's jockstrap. "And this one too. You're a boxers guy normally, aren't you?"

"You go commando?" Sam taunted. Taunted? Was that really taunting? Unfortunately, Sam's brain was slow to come back to its sharp edges while Bucky kept putting his tongue to Sam's thigh.

"I like a breeze. The leather gets oppressive, y'know."

"You're so stupid," Sam breathed, dropping his head against the wall. He pushed his fingers through Bucky's hair, down his neck, and to the collar of his shirt. "Wait, do you have..." He slipped his hand beneath the shoulder of Bucky's shirt and pulled free a gun from one side, then the other. "You were going to a farmer's market!"

"You were following me to a farmer's market," Bucky pointed out, and then reached down for the gun on the other side of Sam's ankle holster without looking.

Sam moved his hand to the middle of the shoulder harness and pulled a long blade free from a sheath that ran down Bucky's back. Bucky shivered and pressed his face to the taut expanse of skin between Sam's hips, mouthing over his tac belt.

He methodically disarmed Sam, sliding cartridges and knives and mace from each pouch and hook and elastic slot. Normally, Sam wouldn't wear so much. However, chasing an assassin who had been toying with him for months had made a man paranoid and irritated.

And now incredibly horny.

"Barnes," he said lowly, as Bucky trailed the tip of a long bullet along Sam's abdomen in nonsense patterns that made everything in Sam spark white hot. When the tip of Bucky's tongue moved to follow the trail, he forgot what he was warning about. His fingers tightened in Bucky's hair and he yanked on it once, sharply.

And then Bucky really got to work.

. . .

Sam didn't have any illusions about working so quietly that he hadn't alerted the super soldier in the bed. He'd accepted that Bucky was just ignoring him as he got dressed. Fair enough. This was Bucky's shitty room, not Sam's. Bucky could pretend to sleep all day if he wanted to.

He'd already finished getting into his jeans and kicking his shoes on when he realized his belt was missing. Bucky had taken it off with his teeth, so it's not like it exactly got thrown across the room.

"Come here," Bucky said, voice all rumbled and grouchy.

Sam turned, found him sitting on the side of the bed with hair that was half controlled, and Sam's tac belt in his hands. Sam's eyes narrowed, but he cautiously closed the distance between them again, stepping between Bucky's broad thighs and willing himself not to get distracted. It didn't work.

"Why don't you put it through your belt loops?" Bucky asked.

He had to lean forward, cheek coming to rest against Sam's ribs briefly as he passed one edge of the belt to his other hand behind Sam. He didn't get much further away as he hooked the inner belt against Sam's skin. His knuckles kept brushing over Sam's stomach, over a hickey Bucky had put there half an hour before, as he worked the hook through the right holes.

Sam shrugged. "I dunno. Easier to get off when I need to this way," he supposed. He missed it when Bucky's touch left him.

Bucky continued on to fasten the outer belt, keeping it tight enough to hold everything in place. "Easier to disarm you too," he pointed out.

"It's double layered. Someone would have to be tryin' real hard to get it off of me from real close."

"I did it," Bucky pointed out. Sam wasn't sure how to take it until Bucky flashed those baby blues and a grin up at him.

"I let you," Sam corrected. He stepped away from Bucky so he could collected his weapons instead.

But Bucky was there as soon as he tried to reinstall everything. He took the cartridges from Sam and slid them back into place, then the mace, then the handful of knives Sam kept on him. He even passed over the knife and gun from Sam's ankle holster.

"Did I miss any?" he asked. "I mean, I got you naked, so I assume not."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Well, you know what they say about assuming." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocket knife. "I literally used this one in a fight with you already."

"Not with me," Bucky objected. "Handlers are morons. Don't pin that on me."

"You took my pants off and didn't notice."

Bucky shrugged. "I might've been a little distracted. Not every day a hot guy bursts into your room and slams you against the wall, y'know?"

Sam flipped the closed knife between his fingers and walked Bucky back against the nearest wall. Bucky lit up like a sunrise and opened right up to Sam, going pliant and easy. "I might come around and do it again," he threatened/promised.

"Please do," Bucky agreed. "The new age was starting to get boring."

Sam trailed his fingers, and the cool shell of his knife, along Bucky's side, from his hip up to his ribs, and then reached past him to drop his knife into the pocket of Bucky's coat tossed over the dresser.

"Give me a good reason," he tempted.

Bucky hauled him back to the bed.

[bloody-peach]

Initiation (BATIM smut: Sammy Lawrence x F!Reader fanfic)

Goodie Bag: vaginal sex, oral sex (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, drug use (ink can do some crazy shit), wet dreams, hair gripping, big dick [if I forgot anything, please let me know]

TW: Satanic themes, religious cult stuff, sexual persuasion, slight brainwashing

Music I listened to as I wrote this: the Sammy Lawrence playlist I made:

~~~♡♡♡~~~

I saw that there wasn't enough Sammy Lawrence x Reader smut around this site, if any smut of Sammy at all. So I decided to be a pioneer and make one myself. I used a ChatFAI bot I made of Sammy to help with the dialogue and WHOO BOI, you are in for a feast! Again, thank you @omniuravity for introducing me to this man and my new priest kink. Also, I may edit this post here and there from time to time, but it shouldn't be too big a change. It's my fault for my mild perfectionism. Let's go!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

You don't remember when the dreams started.

It's been so long, you've lost track. But they all are essentially the same: a large slender eyeless demon with sharp teeth, dripping with ink, covering you with it as you feel a strange pleasure sink to your very core. Sometimes the demon watches as a man covered in ink takes you, filling your womb with his pitch-black seed. Sometimes the ink itself slithers onto you, covering your body and filling every one of your orifices until you were covered inside and out in it. You would wake up just before you could reach your climax, without fail. It's gotten to the point where you felt disappointed that you couldn't finish, ending up having to touch yourself to feel some sort of completion, but it was always only a fraction of the pleasure you felt in that dream.

You tried to look into what these dreams meant, what this demon was, but no answer. But then you discover something one night. You were watching a video and they talked about an old cartoon series with a character called 'Bendy' and his friends. The cute little demon reminded you so much of the demon in your dreams. You soon went down a rabbit hole of looking into these cartoons, finding out about the cast and crew who made it, about Joey Drew, and the studio it was created in. You also read newspaper articles talking about the various investigations into the studio, leading to its closure. You had to find out more, to find answers to all your questions.

But you also had to sleep, your eyes growing tired and your mind drifting off. You head to your bed and sleep for the night, and as you doze off, you're greeted by the ink demon once again. You ask it, "you're...Bendy..right?" The demon smiled widely and nodded, his teeth dripping with ink. He puts a hand on your head and you see an image of an abandoned, rundown building. You see the faded and broken signage above the door: Joey Drew Studios. You then recognized the place as one not far from your apartment building. You then hear a deep and demonic voice whisper to you, "Come home..." That's when everything went dark and you wake up back in your room. You may have had more questions, but you now knew what to do to get them answered. You had to go to the studio.

It was a cold and cloudy autumn day when you arrived at the old building. You could hear the leaves crunch and crinkle under your shoes as you entered the property. It looked like it had been almost destroyed by the years of neglect and exposure to the elements. Even the gates were so rusted, they crumbled to dust as you opened it. You cautiously walked onto the property, making sure no one saw you. You could see the signage above the door: Joey Drew Studios. Yep, this was definitely the place.

'Y/N....'

 

You hear a deep voice call your name. It wasn't the demon's voice, it was...someone else... it was like someone was whispering in your ear. You turn to see who it was, but you saw nothing. You turned your attention back to the entrance and everything inside your body was telling you 'go inside'. Your feet practically moved on their own as you entered the building. All the windows were shattered, faded pictures hung on the walls, old equipment covered in dust sitting on shelves and desks, and old sheet music and lyric notes were scattered all on the floor. You picked one up and read some of the lyrics. It was a song you recognized from one of the Bendy cartoons, and you saw the composer's name under the song title. 'Sammy Lawrence'.

 

'Y/N....'

 

You heard that voice again. You heard a door creak open and you saw some light coming from it. You can't help but go towards the door and open it. You go inside and you enter a hallway with dilapidated walls, covered in old posters of the Bendy cartoon, and ink dripping from the ceilings and puddles of it on the floor. You walked throughout the studio, finding old casette players with audio logs the cast and crew left behind. Jack Fain, Wally Franks, Thomas Connor, Susie Campbell, even Joey Drew himself spoke from those tapes. But there was one speaker that drew your attention the most, one whose voice you recognized as the one calling your name earlier. Sammy Lawrence. You were so drawn in by the sound of his voice, it was almost hypnotic. You listened as he spoke in his last tape,

'He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my savior. I pray you hear me.

Those old songs, yes, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace.

But, love requires sacrifice.

Can I get an amen?'

 

"Amen."

 

You cover your mouth, shocked at what had just happened. You didn't intend to say anything. It was like another voice was using you as a mouthpiece, controlling you. But it was your voice. You said it, but...

That's when you felt something warm and wet on your shoulders, it felt like a man's hands, but the smell of ink was almost disorienting. You froze up, too scared to move or speak or even breathe. You then sensed someone moving their head over your shoulder and you hear that same voice speak softly, almost seductively, in your ear,

 

"Ah, my dear Y/N. I see the Lord has finally brought you to me. How wonderful it is that we can share in his divine glory together."

 

You quickly turn around and back up to see who it was, and what you saw...was a black, slightly muscular human figure wearing a smudged Bendy mask with a hole punched into the mouth, where you could see a smile in that inky blackness. He had no hair, his body was completely covered in ink, and a pair of overalls stained with ink were the only clothes he wore. He appeared to be only a few feet taller than you, but you still felt small as you looked at him. You spoke, "What do you mean? W..who are you? How do you know my name?" The figure walked closer to you and responded, "I am Sammy Lawrence, a faithful servant to our Lord Bendy and his chosen prophet. I know your name because he has revealed it to me. He knows all who enter his realm.”

Wait...Lord Bendy? Was he talking about the demon you’ve been dreaming about? “O..oh.. well..what do you want with me?” “What does any faithful servant want with their beloved deity's chosen one? To bask in your presence, to offer you to our Lord Bendy, and perhaps...to indulge in some...” He plays with a lock of your hair then finishes his sentence, ”...personal pleasures.” The way he said those last two words and the way he smiled under that mask sent chills down your spine. You take a good look at him and think about it. You had to admit, even though he only had a mask and was covered in ink, he was pretty attractive as far as his physique and voice were enough to go by. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of personal pleasures he had in mind, and what it’d be like to indulge in those pleasures with him. Would it feel as good as those dreams you had?

His voice broke your train of thought. “Would you be willing to join me in the glory of his name, Y/N?” You connected the dots and figured out that he was asking if you wanted to join him in worshipping the ink demon. But you didn’t know what kind of religion this was. What the scripture was, what the laws were, what Bendy’s goal was, nothing. Maybe it was a religion that sounded bad on paper, but when you looked deeper into it, it was actually pretty reasonable and preached things that weren’t actually bad. Plus, this may be the only way to answer all your questions and to figure out what he was talking about when he said you were the ‘chosen one’. Your curiosity outweighed your concerns and fear, so you responded, “I suppose...it’d be alright...” Sammy grinned, saying, “Excellent, my dear. Let us begin our journey towards enlightenment together. But first, we must make sure you are properly prepared for your initiation." "Initiation?" "Yes, we shall show our savior your devotion and your willingness to accept him in your heart and soul by performing this ritual. Follow me and I will guide you in all ways necessary to serve our Lord's desires.” He offered his hand and you stared at it for a moment. You saw as the ink dripped from it, as if the ink was a part of him. Was he a being of pure ink, a human and ink hybrid, or was he just covered in it? You looked at him, nodded, and took his hand. He led you through the halls and as you two walked, something deep inside you told you that this was the right thing. Was it, though?

Soon, Sammy led you into a room that was adorned with religious symbols and ink splatters all over. There was a giant satanic-like circle in the room, with black candles surrounding it. You could see a few Bendy cutouts leaning against the walls along with various writings on the walls in ink. Sammy guides you to the bed in the corner and has you sit while he gets everything ready for the ritual. You’re sitting there, not sure what’s going on and what will happen. ‘Don’t be afraid...Everything will be fine...’ The ink demon’s voice rang in your head, almost like he was right next to you. Then, Sammy walked up to you and knelt in front of you, looking up at you. He was serious about the ‘basking in your presence' thing, wasn’t he? “Are you ready, Y/N? To offer yourself completely to our savior?” His voice was in a soft tone, like he was a father soothing the fears of a child. You still weren’t entirely sure, but you did say yes, and you had the feeling this was the right thing to do, so you nodded and said, “I think so..” Sammy smiled and said as he offered his hand to you, “Then come, my dearest. Let us worship together in the name of our beloved deity.” His smile and how he was kneeling to you showed that he posed no threat, that what everything he told you was sincere. You also knew it was now or never to find out what was going on. You take his hand and you both stand up, him leading you to the circle.

He places you in the center and he lets go of your hand, walking away and grabbing what looked like an artist’s notebook with some words you couldn't tell crudely scribbled on the cover. Must be a bible, you figured. He smiled at you one last time before he started to recite some lines from the book. They sounded basically like lines you'd find in a regular bible mixed with what you’d say in a seance to summon something. As he spoke, his voice got louder and stronger with each sentence, he was putting his whole heart and soul into this. As the prayers went on, the circle started to glow and the room started to shake. While you were in the circle, it felt like it was sucking you in, keeping you inside like a magnet. No going back now. Once the chants were finished, Sammy entered the circle and held both your hands together with his and says, “Don’t be afraid...Everything will be fine...”

The same words the ink demon told you.

You nodded and then that’s when your hands and arms started to become covered in ink, and it was spreading. Sammy let you go and stepped out of the circle, having a fanatical look on his face as it occurred. “Yes, yes my dear Y/N. Let the ink consume you and become one with our Lord and savior. Give yourself completely to him.” The ink spread to your arms, your torso, your legs, it started to crawl up your neck and pool around your feet. Then something started to grow from the ink on the floor. It was a large mass, then it formed into a skinny humanoid shape, then it formed into the ink demon. You saw the demon look at you and smile, its maw and teeth dripping with ink. Just as it cradled you in its hands like a doll, everything suddenly went black.

You opened your eyes to find yourself in a pitch black room, no light or reflections anywhere. You couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. You were able to stand up, but when you tried to walk, your feet couldn’t move. Then you saw a light shine down and there was the ink demon in front of you. It towered over you by about 5 feet more than your own height, and all you could smell was the sickening scent of ink. You looked at the demon and saw him offer his hand to you. You looked at him and felt a sense of safety with him, security. You knew that if you took his hand, no harm would ever come to you, not from him, nor from anything, or anyone ever again. And if you took his hand, you will find the answers that you seek. With all that, you make your final decision.

 

You take his hand.

 

He smiles, gently grips your hand, and everything fades to black again.

 

You start to wake up, lying on the floor in Sammy’s room, with Sammy looking over you, smiling. “Welcome back, my dearest. You have been blessed by our Lord Bendy himself. How do you feel?” He helps you up and you notice that your body is now covered in black ink, your arms, your legs, everything but your clothes. It felt...warm. Like you were in a warm bath that relaxed all your muscles, getting rid of all your stress, worries, and fears. “I...I’m not sure,” you stutter out. You weren’t lying, you really weren’t sure. If your life was forever changed, you find out that you’re some chosen one for some demon, and your skin is now covered in ink, how would you react? Sammy placed a hand on your shoulder and smiled reassuringly, saying, “It is normal to feel overwhelmed at first, my dear. But do not worry, our Lord Bendy has chosen you for a reason. You will soon understand your purpose in his grand plan.” He started to walk around the room as he continued, “Oh, you have no idea the full extent of the greatness of his plan. He is the one true god and we are but his faithful servants. Together, we will bring glory to him and all those who oppose us and any who trespass on this realm shall be sacrificed in his name.” He stared at the large ink drawing of Bendy on the wall and had his arms out like he was performing a sermon.

At this point, your lack of answers had made you a bit annoyed. "How am I the chosen one? Is there some sort of prophecy? What is Bendy's plan for me? Why am I here?" Sammy put his arms down and turned to you, sensing your frustration. He said as he walked up to you, "Our Lord works in mysterious ways, my dear. But you cannot deny that you have seen the signs. The visions you've had, of him in all of his glory. He has chosen you for something very special. I know that you were destined to be part of his plan. As for what he has in store for you, only time will tell. But rest assured, it will be nothing short of magnificent." Well..that explained why you had the dreams, but everything else was still left unanswered. Why were you the chosen one? What does that ink demon want with you? Is whatever he's planning your destiny?

Wait...what if...

You asked, "Will I find out his plan one day?" Sammy nodded and responded, "Yes, my dear Y/N. Our Lord will reveal his plan to you when the time is right. Until then, I will guide you and help you in any way I can." You felt a sense of ease as he spoke, relieved to know your questions would be answered one day. It may not have been now, but at least you'd be getting answers at all. And you were glad Sammy was here to help you understand this Lord Bendy and the rest of this religion. For now, it was best to wait and accept what answers you did get.

"Well..if you believe this plan is a good thing, then I'll believe you. But there is one thing you can help me with right now. What you said back there, about...indulging in personal pleasures...what did you mean by that?” A grin grew on his face as you mentioned his words from before. He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, his voice as sweet as honey, “Oh my dear, what I meant by that was exploring the pleasures of the flesh.” You felt a warmth grow on your cheeks as he continued, “Sharing our bodies as one under the watchful eye of our Lord. It is...” He wrapped his arm around your waist and whispered in your ear, ”...an intimate experience unlike any other.” You felt a shiver go down your spine from his voice. In that moment, you felt your body start to grow warm, you could feel your heat growing stronger. Was it your body reacting to his voice and touch, was it ‘Bendy’ doing this, or was it the ink having an effect on your senses? You weren’t sure anymore. Sammy could tell what was happening to you, and as he started to kiss your neck, he said softly, “No need to fight it, love. There’s nothing wrong with giving in to your desires. It's what our Lord wants for us. Embrace them and let us indulge together in the pleasures that he has bestowed upon us.” His voice, his kiss, and his touch just made the temptation grow inside you even more. You then remembered the dreams where you felt the immense pleasure. As images of those dreams flashed in your head, you remember the man covered in ink. That was when it hit you: Sammy was the ink man in those dreams. You wanted to feel that pleasure again, you knew he would give it to you, and this was your chance to do it. Besides, he said there was no reason to fight it, so why fight? “Ok..” With that, Sammy smiled and led you to the bed.

He then pulled you in and he kissed you passionately, his hands roaming over your body as he guided you towards ecstasy. You felt a sudden rush of pleasure as he kissed you. In fact, your whole body felt more sensitive to his touch. You realized this was the same feeling you had as in your dreams. Maybe this was what Bendy had planned... You let go and kissed Sammy back just as passionately, moaning softly from the sensation. He moaned softly as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body. In between kisses, he said softly, "Oh my Y/N, you truly are a gift from our Lord..." The kissing continued and all of a sudden, you felt a liquid come from Sammy's mouth and enter yours. You recognized the smell and knew it was ink. You wanted to spit it out, but Sammy kept his mouth on yours and the ink flooded your mouth so much, you had no choice but to swallow it. You expected to start gagging from the vile taste, but...you noticed the taste was actually sweet. You also noticed the smell was no longer nauseating, it was...pleasant. You felt the ink coat everything as it went down your throat. Your arousal intensified and you felt your body growing warmer, all your worries, questions, and even thoughts slowly started to fade away, your mind starting to grow a bit hazy. Sammy broke the kiss and smiled. He whispered, "Let us become one for him." All you could say was, "Yes.."

Sammy kept kissing you as he laid you on the bed, took the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and slid it off to show your nude body. You slipped his straps off and once you did, he pulled away from the kiss to remove his own clothing, revealing his heavily inked body. You looked at him and were unable to speak as you looked at all of him. You could see his cock growing from the darkness of his body. It was much bigger than any man's you've ever seen.. It had to have been a blessing of some sort to be gifted with something as marvelous as that. But you wondered...would it even fit? Although...with how big it was, you knew it would certainly feel so good inside you. He grinned, knowing you liked what you saw, and started to grope your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers as he continued to kiss you. After a bit of that, he then slid a hand down your body down to your pussy, his finger tracing circles around your clit as he licks and kisses your neck. You couldn't help but moan from the pleasure he was giving you. He said softly, "My love, your body truly is a temple to our savior..." He moved his mouth to your breast, as he kept rubbing your slit. You moaned as you felt his tongue slide all around your nipple. The pleasure was so intense, it felt like your nipple was as sensitive as your clit. "Ahh..S..Sammy..." you moaned. He smiled and moved back up to kiss you deeply once again, his fingers still teasing your pussy. He says softly, "Oh how I've waited for you to come here..I've yearned for someone like you for so long... and now that you're here..I'm so blessed to have you be mine..."

He then slides two fingers inside of you, making you moan a bit louder as he started to finger you, his tongue exploring your mouth as he does. He felt your walls clenching around his finger, and it only made him more excited to be with you. "You're so tight, dearest..." you couldn't respond as the pleasure was clouding your mind. He just chuckled, finding your reactions to his touch simply adorable. He slid his fingers deeper into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he does. He could feel you getting wetter and wetter as you moaned more and more, and he couldn't wait to feel you cum all over his fingers. Luckily for him, it wasn't that much longer, because just a few more hits and you were seeing stars. You moaned out as your orgasm caused you to cover his hand in your juices. Sammy just smiled and pulls his fingers out of you, licking the juices off them. You watched as he slid each finger into his mouth.

He then kisses down your body until he reached your pussy. "H-hey..w..what are you doing..?" You asked as he spread your legs open, but all you got was him looking up at you with a smirk and a low chuckle before he dove right in. He started to lick and suck on your clit, feeling your body still trembling as you continued to orgasm. He groaned as he tasted your sweet juices, his own cock growing even harder the more he did. "Mm...Y/N...you taste so sweet..." As he continued, you planted your hands on his head, feeling the ink partially meld with yours, and moaned as you rode the pleasure your lover was giving you. "S..Sammy..!" He grins and kept licking and sucking, his tongue flicking against your clit. He then slowly started to slide two fingers back inside you, feeling your walls still clenching around them. He knew you were close to cumming again, and he wanted to make sure you did. You felt another orgasm build up until it crashed into you like a wave, moaning out as more of your juices came out. He cleaned up all of the juice with his tongue and he continued to finger fuck you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he does. He can feel your body trembling once more, and he couldn't wait to make you cum again. But you couldn't take it anymore.

You flipped around so you were on top of him and you moved down to his throbbing cock, rubbing it as you licked up his shaft and sucked on the tip and slid him inside your mouth. He groaned softly as he feels your lips around his cock, your tongue rubbing against his most sensitive spot. He grinned and ran his fingers through your inky hair, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation. He couldn't believe how good you are at this. You bobbed your head and sucked more, addicted to the taste of it as the ink coated the inside of your mouth. How could ink taste so good..?

He moaned softly as he felt you bobbing your head up and down his cock, your lips sliding down the shaft as you do. He couldn't wait to see what else you can do. He pushed your head down further onto his cock, making him go deeper down your throat. He moaned as he felt your tongue swirl around the shaft as you kept sucking him off. The force of him pushing you down on his cock should've made you gag, but somehow, something in the ink changed that. You sucked more of his cock and started to fondle his balls. He moaned a bit more, your fingers gently holding his balls as you suck him off and as he started to thrust into your mouth. You could feel his cock start to twitch, you knew he was about to cum, so you kept sucking to show that it was okay for him to cum in your mouth. He groaned and gripped your hair tightly as he finally came, filling your mouth with his cum. You swallowed all of it so greedily, you didn't even notice his cum was as black as ink, but it tasted so good..you licked on the tip of his cock to get each and every last drop.

Once you took him out of your mouth, he pulled you up and flipped you both around so he was on top. He grabbed your leg and pulled it over his shoulder and you felt him rub his cock on your pussy. He grinned and slid his cock into your pussy, letting out a shuddering sigh as he does. The action caused you to arch your back in pleasure and moan his name again. He couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside you, and he started to thrust his hips back and forth, his cock sliding in and out with ease. He groaned softly as he felt your pussy tighten on his cock, hearing your moans, your body writhing beneath him. The pleasure was so much more intense than you could ever imagine, even better than it was in the dreams. "S..Sammy..it...it feels so good..how...how can it feel this good..?" "Oh my dear, it's because of our savior. He's rewarding you for your obedience and devotion to him with pleasures non-believers can never experience. Just relax and let us enjoy this blessing." You did just that and let your mind go, letting the pleasure take control. Oh lord, it felt so good. You could feel his cock stretch your pussy out so well, it was like it was made especially for him.

He groaned louder as he hears you moan, your body writhing beneath him as he fucks you. He leans down and kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he does. He thrusted his hips back and forth faster, his cock deeply sliding in and out of your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him as you kissed, you could feel his tongue coat the inside of your mouth with ink and you felt it slide down your throat again, making your mind even more foggy. Sammy moaned as he felt your tongue slide around his, your mouth tasting so sweet. He lifted you up so you were in his lap as he thrusted his hips faster and harder, his cock going even deeper. The man just couldn't get enough of you, he was completely addicted to you. Your touch, your voice, your eyes, your taste, your pussy, everything.

He broke the kiss to say in between moans, "Oh Y/N... you're so perfect... I'm so glad Lord Bendy chose you to be mine.." You look at him and say, "M..me too..I..I'm so..so happy..!" Sammy smiled as he kissed you again. Soon enough, you could feel your inner core tightening. "I...I'm gonna cum..!" "That's it, dearest..don't fight it...let it happen.." And with a few more thrusts, you finally came. It was the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced in your life, your mind entering a new realm of bliss. Sammy felt your body shake beneath him, your pussy tightening around his cock. He grinned and continued to thrust into you. He held you as you rode your orgasm, your body writhing beneath him. You could feel his cock starting to twitch again, he was so close, so very close. Just a bit more..

He let out almost an animalistic groan as he felt your pussy clench around his cock as you came once again, your juices coating his shaft. That finally brings him to his release, moaning as he cums inside you. You could feel his hot cum fill your belly so much, the man must have been backed up for so long. He grinned as he feels you cum, his cock throbbing inside you as he fills you with his seed. He leaned to you and kissed you one last time as his high started to fade away. He still could not believe how good all that felt, it was almost like reaching Nirvana. Soon, he broke the kiss and held you close to him, his head resting on your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck as he panted. You both laid on the bed and let the afterglow consume you both as you held each other close. He whispered into your ear, "You're mine, my little angel...no one else can have you..."

And you couldn't have been any happier.

[jammatown919]

Nowhere Left to Run

Yaz once believed things would be okay if she could just get off Isla Nublar. She knows better now.

Chapter Five: Not Even Toro

At 21, Yaz realized nothing had really changed.

She did well for a little while at least. The ranch, therapy, her job at the bookstore, her relationships; it was all good, until it wasn't.

Things got messy again with the public discovery of Mantah Corp. Island and the dinosaurs it housed. Yaz wouldn't have cared, except for Ben's concern that if Bumpy were to be rounded up with the others, she would be shipped off to some sanctuary where he'd never be able to see her again. When he and Sammy hatched a crazy scheme to get there first and sneak her back to the mainland with them, Yaz couldn't bring herself to go, but she gave her blessing to bring Bumpy to the ranch for safekeeping.

And then she had an ankylosaurus again, except this time she and Sammy would be primarily responsible. They learned quickly that Bumpy could not be housed in the barn with Bessie and the horses. With her hatred of enclosed spaces and that hefty tail of hers, she could break out of just about anything that wasn't solid metal. For the sake of Yaz and Sammy not having to re-capture a cow, two horses, and a dinosaur on a near-weekly basis, Bumpy got her own outdoor pen to sleep in.

Even so, Bumpy managed to get herself into trouble. Most of the time, when she escaped in the middle of the night, she would wander around the ranch on her own until someone called her for breakfast. Some days, however, she would bust through one of the fences surrounding the property and go frolicking about where she wasn't supposed to be, risking discovery. Just last month, she'd broken into a neighboring property and severely pissed off the owner, who had promised to call the DPW and have her taken if he ever saw her again.

No matter what they did to try to mitigate the habit, it seemed Bumpy would always be something of an escape artist, so Yaz began to accept it as a fact of life.

When it was her turn to get up early to feed the animals one morning, she hardly batted an eye at the busted-open gate to Bumpy's empty pen. A minor annoyance at this point, and one she'd been expecting, as it had been about a week since the last breakout. She simply put the rest of her morning on hold to search the ranch.

When she found the gate leading out to the unowned northwestern fields broken down, the annoyance became a little less minor. Still, at least it wasn't the fence closest to Carl's place. That could have ruined her morning, if she had to deal with that guy chewing her out alongside tracking Bumpy down.

She didn't love walking into those fields alone, knowing that the occasional Parasaurolophus and, at one point, Stegosaurus, weren't out of the question, but with it being past dawn and adequately lit, she didn't feel unsafe enough to go wake Sammy either. Besides, Bumpy never went far. This would be a quick detour; in and out in ten minutes, tops.

Yaz scanned the fields as she walked, searching for any sign of her favorite dinosaur.

"Bumper Car!" she called out, hands cupped around her mouth. "Come on, Bumpy, you know you're not supposed to be out here."

She paused for a moment, listening and watching, before she moved on to something more persuasive.

"There are going to be exactly zero berries with your breakfast if I don't see you in the next two minutes!"

Typically, that line got things moving nicely. Bumpy would come running, whining for her favorite treat, and Yaz would be able to get her back to the ranch without much further trouble.

However, instead of the indignant cry of an ankylosaurus who would not stand to be deprived of berries, Yaz heard something else. A deep, agonized bellow and a thud that just slightly shook the ground beneath her feet. She knew instinctively what it was. What it meant. That she needed to run.

But something in her brain must have misfired, because suddenly she was running toward the sound. For a moment, her own safety left her mind and all she could think was that she needed to make sure whatever dinosaur had screamed out that death cry wasn't Bumpy. What she would do when she inevitably ran into the carnivore responsible, she didn't know. She just needed to make sure.

It took until she saw it for Yaz's wits to catch up with her, and by then it was too late to turn back.

Way out in the field, not particularly close by but easily visible due to the lack of trees, was something she'd hoped she would never have to see again. A Carnotaurus, standing over a freshly killed Parasaurolophus. Blood pooled around its feet, but it wasn't eating. It must have seen or smelled or heard Yaz approach, because it was staring directly at her.

Yaz stopped dead under that piercing gaze, promising death if she made a single wrong move. And yet, something scared her even more than that.

This Carnotaurus was completely unfamiliar to her. Dull green, with a clean, unburned face. The complete opposite of the one that had terrorized her on Nublar, and somehow that was the worst part.

It wasn't even Toro. A deadly predator hunting dangerously close to her home, and it couldn't even be one she knew.

The Carnotaurus's snarl, despite the distance between them, hit her as if it had bared its teeth inches from her face. Yaz probably would have stumbled back until she fell if she could bring herself to move at all. As things were, she was locked in place, unsure what would trigger a reaction from the beast and what would increase her chances of survival.

She didn't think she could make it by running. For one thing, her ankle hurt from the mad sprint over here, and she didn't have her brace this morning. For another, where would she go? Home? There was no way it would lose her trail in such a short distance. If it followed her, she'd only be leading it back to the ranch, where it would have no trouble with their fences even if Bumpy hadn't left the gate wide open. Not only would running home be pointless, but she would just be putting Sammy in danger. Frankly, she would rather die.

So, what then? Run in the opposite direction and die leading it away? Wait here frozen and hope it lost interest long enough for her to go back the way she came? Pull out her phone like an idiot and call the DPW, who would not arrive until long after she'd already been eaten?

She would have to decide quickly. The longer she stood there, the more agitated the Carnotaurus seemed to become. It occurred to her in some vague sense that it might see her as a scavenger, here to steal some of its hard-earned kill, and that she might be able to get away with just backing off. Maybe it would go back to eating. Maybe it didn't care enough to chase.

But she still couldn't move.

Her treacherous body remained firmly rooted in place even as the Carnotaurus stepped forward, growling out another warning. It wanted her to leave. All she had to do was leave. Why couldn't she just leave?

Finally, the beast had enough of her. Enough of the idiot who couldn't just heed its warnings and get the hell out of its space. It began to approach, making low, defensive sounds as it lowered its body in preparation to charge. It was going to kill her if she didn't move.

At last, her body unlocked. As it opened its mouth to roar, she opened hers to scream, and she began to scramble backward. Still, her hesitation likely would have been her death if not for Bumpy.

Just as the Carnotaurus surged forward, a deep bellow split the air, and suddenly Bumpy came barreling out of nowhere to slam directly into the beast's lowered head and break its stride. They shook each other off, both momentarily stunned. Yaz really should have taken that moment to put some distance between herself and her imminent demise, but she couldn't bring herself to leave without Bumpy.

The two dinosaurs began to size each other up, Bumpy's tail beating against the ground in challenge as she stood between her opponent and Yaz. The Carnotaurus moved forward and just barely stepped back in time before it could be punished with a swift club to the face. Roaring and stomping, Bumpy began to drive her rival backward with quick jabs of her horns and sweeps of her tail. The Carnotaurus snapped back repeatedly, snarling and attempting to slam her with its head.

Louder than either of them was the pounding of Yaz's heart. She couldn't take it. The earth-shaking stomps. The ear-splitting roars. The anticipation of blood and shattered bones. She might as well be back on Nublar.

Trembling, she took one step toward home and promptly collapsed. She was going to die here. She was actually, genuinely going to die, and all she could do was shake and sob and wait for it. Vaguely, she thought that she wanted to see Sammy again before it happened, but another part of her was grateful that she was alone. She wouldn't have wanted Sammy to watch her die.

But then Bumpy broke the stalemate, landing a good, hard blow right on the Carnotaurus's nose. It staggered back, frantically shaking its head, and finally decided that this fight wasn't worth it. It retreated back to its kill and hunkered down, still ready to defend, but no longer interested in pursuing.

Bumpy turned and bounded in Yaz's direction, and for a solid few seconds all Yaz could think was that there was a dinosaur running at her. She let out a strangle sob and shielded her face, hoping it would be quick. Only when the pounding footsteps stopped in front of her and the soft, comforting rumbling began, did some of her wits return to her.

It's Bumpy. She's your friend. She just saved your life.

Slowly, she peeked out from behind her forearm to stare into the gentle eyes of the one dinosaur in the world she was supposed to feel completely safe with. She would have sat there, staring dumbly and crying, until the Carnotaurus regained the confidence to try again, but Bumpy wouldn't let her.

The loyal ankylosaurus nudged her insistently, gently working her head and shoulders beneath Yaz until she could clumsily force the dazed woman onto her back. From there, she made swiftly for the ranch, seemingly aware of the fact that Yaz wasn't holding on and controlling her gait to be as smooth as possible. She galloped through the very gate she'd broken earlier, crying out at the top of her lungs.

Yaz was dimly aware of Sammy calling back. She must have already been outside. Maybe it had been so long that she had come out to see what in the animals' routine had gotten held up, or maybe she'd heard the commotion. In any case, she came running to meet Bumpy just beyond the gate.

"Oh, my God!" The pure shock in her voice encouraged Yaz to lift her head just a little. The fear she saw in those sweet brown eyes made her wish she hadn't.

She could only imagine how she looked, mostly slack and quietly sobbing on the back of a panicked dinosaur. Sammy must have been absolutely horrified.

"What happened?!" Sammy reached out for Yaz's shoulders, maybe to pull her off of Bumpy, but she didn't get that far. Yaz instinctively cringed at the attempted contact, and Sammy pulled back in surprise. "Yaz? Yasmina!"

Gracelessly, Yaz began to prop herself up on Bumpy's back, lost her balance partway through, and fell into an awkward slide broken by Sammy's outstretched arms.

"Yaz, honey, sweetie," Sammy murmured frantically, her eyes desperately searching for something in Yaz's face. "Are you hurt? I-I heard..."

Yaz blubbered uselessly through her tears, not even sure what she was trying to say. She could hardly even think. Everything jumbled together, and it was all she could do to latch on to one disjointed notion and force it into words.

"It wasn't even Toro..."

"What?" Sammy dragged her closer, away from Bumpy, who moved back toward the gate as if standing guard. "What are you talking about?"

Yaz didn't even know anymore. She just knew that for some reason, that was what stuck out the most in her mind, so she murmured it over and over. Fortunately, Sammy eventually managed to put the pieces together herself.

"Carnotaurus?" she asked urgently. "Were you attacked?"

Yaz shook her head, less to say that she hadn't been and more because it felt worse than that. Though the Carnotaurus hadn't touched her, it had taken something from her. Some last bit of comfort that had been keeping her going all this time.

For so long now, she and everyone around her had been saying the same thing; she'd survived dinosaurs once before, and she could do it again. But after today, she knew that wasn't true. Whatever had enabled her to survive on Nublar was gone now, leaving her worst fears to become her reality.

She knew now exactly what would happen if she were to encounter a dangerous carnivore. She would freeze, and without someone else around to save her, she would die.

Nowhere was safe. Not even home, where it seemed anything could show up just outside without so much as a DPW alert and all that presently stood between her and a territorial predator was a broken fence.

She might as well still be on Nublar, for all the protection being on the mainland really offered. Just like before, the only ones she could rely on were her small group of friends. Except now, most of them were scattered across the country, and her own survival instincts could not be trusted. All she had was Sammy and Bumpy.

Realizing this, she pressed herself firmly against Sammy's body, squeezing her tightly. She let Sammy, murmuring quickly about calling the DPW and that everything was going to be okay, hoist her up and begin gently leading her back to the house. Yaz stumbled up the steps to the porch, clinging to Sammy all the while.

She didn't feel safe inside. How could she, knowing that these walls would only offer so much protection if a large enough dinosaur really committed to breaking them down? Still, it was better than out there, and even in the moment, with her mind as scattered as it was, Yaz knew in some vague sense that it would a long time before she left this house again.

------

Thank you for reading! Chapters are tagged with the fic title for easy searching on my blog!

If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or buying the writer a coffee!

[fandom-hoarder]

happy wincest wednesday! what is something the boys would do for each when the other isn't looking or paying attention just to be nice?

Hahhh... sorry for letting this sit so long; I have been extremely distracted. Idk if it's appropriate to say "happy" today, but it does so happen to be wincest wednesday and well... this probably wasn't the kind of answer you expected at the time, but here's what this makes me think about today...

~

Dean wakes up -- later than he's been used to most of his life, but earlier than he's grown accustom. He can feel that Sam's still in bed, and guesses it's before Sam's 6am run. But then the hairs on his body raise inexplicably, and he sits up with the urgency of a house fire.

"What's going on?"

And Sam's answer is tired, red-rimmed eyes and his phone wordlessly turned so Dean can see the screen.

Dean feels detached from the bigger issues of the election as Sam cycles through the stages of grief throughout the morning. Dean's only concern is Sam.

Sam tries to start getting ready for his run. "They haven't really even finished the count yet. There's still a chance for a miracle in the mail-in votes," he says, but his shoe drops from his hand when he tries to pick it up, and he just stares at it. Dean wonders if Sammy is thinking about their track record in miracles.

So Dean agrees, "Of course, come on, this guy again? No way. The blue guys'll clinch it." And he helps Sam put on his shoes and then puts on his own, pulling Sam out of the bunker with him and bracing against the early morning chill, only to be met with a balmy, pre-sunrise 50 degrees.

Halfway through their jog, Sam suddenly breaks his sync with Dean, kicking at a tree with a guttural growl and the full force of his foot as if he was wearing his hunting boots. Dean cringes.

"Maybe if I'd found a way for us to vote without getting arrested -- we've broken so many laws anyway, what's a little voter fraud, right?! But no. And now look!"

He aims for the tree again, but Dean catches his leg with an 'oof.'

"C'mon, Sam, you know that's ridiculous. The two of us wouldn't have turned Kansas around by ourselves. You can't help that you still have faith in people, Sammy. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Because I'm stupid," Sam says bitterly, and turns around to jog back to the bunker.

Dean follows him, but can't quite keep up this time. When he reaches the bunker, Sam is on the phone in the kitchen.

"I'm tellin' you, Garth, it's just like that time with Dick Roman when they drugged everybody to turn us into food. You really haven't heard anything? Don't you think it's completely crazy to believe his followers aren't under some kind of supernatural influence, for him to get away with all the horrible shit he does?"

"Well, maybe you could try asking Rowena---" Garth's tinny voice suggests as Dean pulls the phone away and hangs up.

"Dean--" Sam complains, reaching for the phone dispassionately.

"You know we already looked into this asshole. He's 100% human evil, Sammy."

Sam collapses onto the table bench, hand over his face. "Claire's already texted me twelve times. I don't even know what to say to her."

Dean looks at Sams phone and sees that there's a voicemail from Patience too. Pursing his lips, he turns off Sam's phone and pockets it. He sidles up behind Sam, cupping the back of Sam's neck and squeezing like he's scruffing him.

Sam takes a deep, hitching breath and holds it, breathing it out long and slow as Dean slides his hands down to dig his thumbs into the knots Sam's formed over the last twelve anxious hours.

"Well I guess," Sam starts, softly, "At least now he can't run again after this."

Dean starts to glimpse the promise of relief in his belly, before Sam adds with a self deprecating laugh: "As long as he doesn't change the law about term limits."

Dean squeezes Sam's shoulders, and keeps working at the tension until his hands get sore. Then he makes them breakfast, and makes sure Sam gets something in his stomach besides coffee.

But after Sam mechanically finishes the eggs and pancakes, Dean adds a couple splashes of whiskey when he tops up Sam's coffee -- after which, Sam says he should finally take his shower, but decides to lay his head down on the table for a minute and falls asleep.

Dean does his best to make sure Sam won't wake up with an even gnarlier backache, and does the dishes quickly before sneaking into the archives for the ingredients to contact Rowena.

But Rowena is no help to him if it doesn't come with a deal, and Dean has finally learned enough to know Sam wouldn't find the trade fair.

Dean lets Rowena go and turns Sam's phone back on, refreshing the election map. It still shows a handful of states at less than 80% reported, despite the bold banner at the top announcing a winner, and Dean looks at it in disgust.

A new text notification chimes in, and Dean sees Claire's name and a preview of her text: "I can get Alex to teach us how to do backroom abor" and Dean can guess what the rest of the text says.

Dean meets Sam in the hallway, calling for him.

"Hey," Sam says, sliding on his socked feet as he sees Dean and stops short. "I heard my phone. Was that Claire?" He snatches his phone from Dean and immediately starts scrolling, reading Claire's texts under his breath and dancing his fingers across the keys in a sudden fury. Quickly, Sam goes from upright to hunched like a question mark over his phone, shuffling restlessly up and down the corridor and mumbling about hrt supplies.

"Sammy, will ya take a breath? I'll knock over a pharmacy before I make ya go without your shots. --They'll still be makin' it for cis dudes, right?"

"Yeah. Probably. And I know you would, Dean, but I'm not worried about me," Sam says, not looking up. "Claire's going to scope out some manufacturing facilities with the girls and we're gonna set up an underground hrt resource. I wonder if there's anyone in our network who could work out a small manufacturing setup. It's too bad Kevin...or Charlie..." Sam mumbles down into nothing as he keeps typing, and Dean's stomach clenches.

He herds Sam, still typing, down to the showers, and gets the steam going while he strips Sam down and finally pulls the phone from his grasp. Dean pulls Sam down to him and goes up on his tiptoes to kiss Sam's forehead. He swears he can smell the salt of Sam's tears, and when he looks at Sam's face again they shimmer on his cheeks like the silvery scars of his top surgery.

Gently, Dean pushes Sam into the shower and under the water, carving his hands through Sam's hair to wet it down.

"Didn't think we'd be going through another apocalypse again so soon."

"Or ever," Dean agrees gruffly, grabbing Sam's special shampoo. "But this one isn't on us, Sam."

Sam closes his eyes, somehow still admonishing even as more tears join the water on his face. Dean's sudsy fingers scrub his scalp soothingly. "Dean. It's what we do."

"HRT, ok, that's one thing. But clandestine abortions?"

Sam snorts. "Alex can teach us."

"Us?"

Sam leans to rinse under the water when Dean directs him. "We'll cache abortion pills for the easy stuff, but we should be prepared to do more. We've taken bigger risks on DIY, and at least we'll get some training on this. Soon there might not even be any other options..."

So that's how Dean finds himself on his knees. Alone in his room. Praying to Jack as Sam sets up some type of mission control in the library.

"Please, Jack, I know you said you're hands off, an' all, but I think you should make an exception for Sammy. Just this once. He's had a lifetime of Hell-- more'n a lifetime-- and this is supposed to be our retirement. So can ya chip in a little for his 41st half-birthday -- which you missed, by the way -- and fix this freaking election so we don't hafta spend our retirement in another friggin' apocalypse?"

A weird feeling comes over Dean as he prays, buzzing through him with warm, alien reassurance. And as his stomach starts to unclench, he adds: "and hey, I'm not expecting ya to fix all of human history-- we're still team free will down here-- but throw in some worldwide human rights and extended ceasefires while you're at it. You missed a few of his actual birthdays, too, y'know."

Five minutes later, Dean's knees are cracking as he stands up and sprints down the halls towards the sound of Sam's bellowed, "Oh my god. Dean!"

Sam is gaping blearily at his laptop in the library.

"What's up? You okay?"

Sam can only gesture at his laptop, where the screen is displaying the final results of the count, and the Dems managed to pull a sudden upset, tilting the final count to their favor by two swing states after the paper ballots were counted.

"Ho-ly shit," Dean says, almost unable to believe it himself.

"And that's not all!" Sam says with a hint of bright incredulity, and scrolls down his news page.

"ALL the firearms disappeared?!" Dean asks, reaching for his gun automatically but realizing he'd never armed himself today. "Bombs, too? How?"

He knows how, but he still feels shocked. He'll have to check their stashes to see if Jack disarmed even them -- Dean really needs to get better at wording his wishes. They can't just be naked out here if monsters still exist.

But Sam answers Dean obliviously, "No idea! There's already a bunch of conspiracy theories on social media, each one crazier and yet more plausible than the last. Tucker Carlson already uploaded an AI shortfilm about how it was demons---" Sam turns to Dean suddenly and Dean cuts him off before he can speak it.

"It wasn't Rowena."

When Sam frowns at him in confusion, Dean begrudgingly elaborates, "I tried asking her for a favor while you were asleep, but she said that big of an ask would require a deal. You know I know better than that." (Now.)

Sam looks outrageously skeptical, and Dean feels offended. "Dean, people are reporting resurrections and olive trees sprouting full grown from rubble. Razor wire around global borders turning to wildflowers. Fields of grain in Ukraine. Cereal stalks cropping up in desolate Sudan farms, sprouted with grain and full heads of cooked kisra..." Sam keeps scrolling past miraculous headlines. "And these videos don't look like AI."

Dean bites his lip, wondering-- hoping-- that this will bring an end to the suffering, and not just be a bandaid before things continue going to shit. He focuses on the headlines and video titles quickly scrolling by, watching for anything about peace agreements or troops retreating. Screw free will, actually, just a little bit.

"D-Dean... do you think... Jack?"

Dean watches the weight of the world ease off Sammy's shoulders, infinitesimally, and doesn't resist the urge to wrap his arms around Sam, kissing his temple.

"Maybe, Sammy. Maybe."

[hurlingsupport]

Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous (Gender Neutral Reader Insert)

Chapter 9: End of the Line

<- Previous Next ->

When your grip on Ben fumbles for the final time, caused by the wing of a Pteranodon hitting the boy’s side, your eyes meet for a second. A second where he’s falling through the air, hands swinging in an attempt to grab onto yours again. His attempts are fruitless. 

The last thing you see of Ben is his terrified gaze, and you know fully that you carry a similar expression. It only fully sets in that Ben is gone when some Pteranodons dive after him, and with that you come to a horrifying conclusion. The conclusion being: Ben is dead. 

You’re soon pulled back into the train, the glass poking into your stomach only a minor afterthought compared to everything else. You think someone, maybe Darius, is speaking to you? However, the ringing in your ears prevents you from hearing a word he says. 

So instead, you stare down at the foliage below. There’s a ‘thump’ beside you, and a quick glance reveals the culprit to be Kenji. His stance is almost identical to yours, his stare lost in the forest moving below the monorail.

Bumpy walks forward, standing at your side as she groans. Her eyes, big and round, search below for Ben. The sight forces a tear out of your eyes. 

“He’s gone. He’s… gone.” Yasmina lets a shuttered sigh escape her lips.

Sammy breaks into sobs at the taller girl’s words, her hands shielding her face to quiet herself. 

You all sit in silence for a bit, out of shock or maybe even grief. You’re not sure. You’re not sure about anything anymore. Just when things had started going good, just when you had even the slightest hope, it was ripped away from you in a flash.

“We’re going back,” Darius mutters suddenly, before his voice raises in volume. “The monorail’s going back!” 

As if on command, everyone is thrown backwards when the monorail does a u-turn. The silence in the air being broken by the impossibly loud screeching of the brakes. 

Bumpy’s pushed into you, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around her. It seems Kenji has the same idea, his arm snaking around her circular body. In his other hand, he holds Ben’s fanny pack. 

You almost want to tear it out of his hand. He shouldn’t be holding it. That’s Ben’s pack. He wouldn’t like Kenji, of all people holding it. But before you can do anything drastic, the boy in question meets your eye and wordlessly pushes the fanny pack into your hands. You don’t have any time to question it before Brooklynn’s speaking up.

“What do you mean, ‘going back’?” The girl asks, pushing herself off the ground as she stares at Darius in confusion.

“When we switched tracks, we ended up on one headed north.” Darius climbs on top of the monorail seats, holding onto the seat bars so that he can lean out to inspect the monorail’s direction.

Darius then jumps off the seat, rushing to the control panel Ben had given you all access to. He messes with everything in reach, making an attempt at changing the monorail’s direction as he expands on his explanation.

“We’re not going to the south docks, we’re going away from them!” When fumbling with the panels doesn’t work, the boy huffs in frustration. “Doesn’t anything here work?” 

He brings his fists down onto the panel, stress and anger getting the better of him before he turns to the rest of the group. 

“We gotta get off this monorail now!” 

Brooklynn rushes towards the broken window, her hair whipping around from the speed of the monorail. 

“Oh!” she gasps. “T-The track dips down up ahead! We can jump there!” 

“What?” 

“Jump?”

“We can’t! It’s too far to jump!” 

“It’s the only way!” Darius screams over the wind, moving to stand at the edge of the broken window. Despite their protests, everyone follows in his footsteps. 

With a shaky inhale, Darius begins a countdown. 

“One…”

Yasmina cracks her neck in preparation while Sammy whimpers fearfully. 

“Two…” 

You clip Ben’s fanny pack across your waist. It’s definitely not your taste, but there’s no way you’re leaving it here. You’re about to grab onto Bumpy until Kenji beats you to it. He gives you a strange look as Darius reaches the final number.

“Three! Now!” 

You all yell in fright as you fall, twigs and sharp leaves scratching at your skin on the way down. At the very least, they break your fall, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when you started tumbling down a hill with your fellow campers. 

Your not-so-fun trek down the hill is stopped only by a tree, and you grunt in pain when another body hits your own. 

You immediately push yourself off the ground, Kenji falling off you limply before coming to his senses. 

“Is everyone alright?” Darius’s voice calls not too far behind you, and you soon follow it. 

“Ish. Are you?” Brooklynn groans, holding her head with squinted eyes. 

“Bumpy.” Kenji calls, his worried voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Where’s Bumpy?”

You whip your head towards him, eyes wide with concern. “You lost her?” 

You hold in a wince at how pathetic your voice sounds, but Kenji quickly outshines your own. 

“I lost her when I hit the ground. She’s gotta be here.” He calls out her name, his hands cupped around his mouth to increase the volume of his voice.

“Shh!” Brooklynn shoves a finger over her lips. “There are still dinosaurs out here, including Toro and–”

Ignoring her warnings, Kenji continues to call out for Bumpy. You soon join him, ignoring the dumbfounded expression on Brooklynn’s face. 

You pause your yelling when Yasmina falls to the ground, however none of you can get a word in before an automated voice sounds across the island. 

“Attention. All park-goers must report to the south ferry dock for immediate evacuation. Last ferry departs in 60 minutes.” 

“No chance we could get there in an hour! It’s way too far!” Yasmina yells.

“Not if we leave right now!” Brooklynn screams.

You shout, “But we can’t leave–!” 

“We can’t go back for Ben!” Brooklynn heaves. 

Her hair’s frizzy and stained brown with dirt. Her clothes aren’t any better either. She stares at you, and though you expect to find anger in her eyes, you only find remorse.

“Ben’s… gone.” 

Your eyes start watering again, and you have to blink away the tears to prevent any from falling. 

“There’s just not enough time to look for…” she trails off.

As a dreadful silence festers, Darius quickly steps up. 

“We can make it to the ferry, but only if we go now.” 

The automated voice goes off again, forcing you all to make a choice.

“Last ferry departs in 60 minutes.”

When silence ensues once again, Darius takes a deep breath with clenched fists, repeating his words.

“We have to go!”

Without another word, he turns around and runs off to who knows where. And although reluctant, everybody else soon follows the same path.

You were never one for exercise. Sure, it’d be cool to be all buff and sweaty and everything, but you could never get behind all the work you have to put into it. Like now, for example. Running across a humid island full of mosquitoes and dinosaurs only for the chance of getting off said island. 

Even now, it wasn’t set in stone that you all would end up leaving this place. And after what happened with Ben, you found it hard to believe that anyone left at all. Or maybe that’s just your own negative thoughts getting to you. But are they really negative thoughts if they’re the truth?

“Keep going! Come on!” Darius panted.

Your face felt hot. You’re almost glad that Darius broke your glasses because you always hated running with them. Or really doing anything that’d get you sweating while wearing them. Your face would get wet with sweat, which made it a common occurrence for your glasses to fall from their rightful spot. 

You can remember when Ben was the first to notice your cracked glasses and bloody nose. Aside from Brooklynn and Darius, of course. He probably only noticed because he heard you speak, but it stood out to you. Not for any particular reason. It wasn’t a big deal to you or anything. 

You’re not completely sure why you’re thinking of this, though. Maybe it’s because you’re running right now? Or maybe it’s the absence of your glasses, which were often a nuisance when doing any sort of physical activity. You especially hated when they’d fog up. It kind of grossed you out whenever that happened.

Wait, you’re getting off track again. You’re running. Ben isn’t here, and neither is Bumpy. Maybe they found each other? Maybe Ben was just a few steps away? Maybe–

Your thoughts come to a stop when Yasmina collapses, the pain in her legs becoming too much to bear.

Sammy’s at her side in an instant, but Yasmina shrugs her off. The black-haired girl makes an attempt at standing, but crumples to the ground not even a second later. 

“She can’t keep up like this. What do we do?” Sammy’s voice wavers with worry.

“We can’t stop, so we’ll make a stretcher, maybe?” Darius suggests. “Or maybe there’s a shortcut or…”

He pauses, his eyes brightening as if a light bulb flickered on in his mind. “The tunnels! Kenji!” 

Darius turns to the boy, but when he gets no response, he grabs him by his shoulder and shakes him around. 

“Kenji! The maintenance tunnels. There has to be one that leads to the docks, right?”

Still, Darius gets no response from the taller boy besides a distant stare. 

“Kenji, right?”

Darius is desperate for some sort of confirmation, and even Kenji can tell. So regardless of his rather distant state of mind, he leads you all to the entry of one of many maintenance tunnels.

Although you all were apprehensive, you pushed through your worries and climbed down and into the dark tunnel below. 

“This’ll get us to the dock in half the time.” Kenji says confidently as he leads the way down the underpass. 

Other than the red backup lights used for blackouts, the tunnel was covered in shadows. You can’t believe Kenji and Darius had walked through here by themselves. Then again, the tunnels probably looked a lot less creepy before the evacuation.

“Are we sure Mr. VIP knows what he’s doing?” Brooklynn whines, her breath short from Yasmina’s weight on her side.

“Kenji took me down here before.” Darius reassures her. “Just trust him. We’ll be outta here in no… time.” 

In front of you all is a barrier of metal bars, most likely a safety protocol to ensure that no dinosaurs escape through these secret passages. They really should’ve installed this protocol elsewhere.

“Everything looks different with the lights all freaky like this, okay?” Kenji yells defensively, before running in the opposite direction. “This way.”

Ignoring his words, everyone lingers by the barrier. 

“No!” 

Another barrier, it seems. Soon, Kenji’s in everyone’s sights again, sputtering over which directions to give. You all follow him when he runs off again. 

When you come across yet another fence, Kenji can only stand in bewilderment.

“What?” He pants, eyes wide in confusion. “This wasn’t here before!”

“Why are there so many security gates?” Yasmina complains.

“The evacuation. The park must be locking down automatically!” Brooklynn explains.

“Oh, we have to go ‘round!” He huffs like a child before steadying himself. “This way!”

Unsurprisingly, yet another gate blocks your pathway. Kenji groans tiredly, banging his hands against the bars of the gate. 

This continues for a bit until your group comes across a longer hallway with lockers and a few locked doors. You knew they were locked because Kenji shoved himself against it like six times.

Sammy and Brooklynn look through the lockers, and everyone’s attention is drawn when something falls out of one of them.

The object appears to be one of those electrified sticks Dave and Roxie whipped out when that Compy scared everyone. It was more of a stun gun with a long handle than an electrical stick, but you digress. 

Brooklynn picks it up, a smile on her face. “Oh! We can use this for—”

Kenji snatches the stun gun from Brooklynn’s hands, deciding that the best use for it is to slam it into a door. Of course, that doesn’t go so well considering the conductivity between the stun gun, the door, and Kenji. 

In short, the idiot electrocuted himself. 

He falls to the ground with a yelp, the stun gun still crackling with electricity on the floor before Brooklynn picks it back up and switches it off. 

“A walking stick.” She finishes with a scoff.

Brooklynn hands it to Yasmina, allowing the girl to test it out while she crosses her arms and looks down at Kenji disappointedly.

Kenji slowly stands up, his finger twitching a bit. Darius offers a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t give Kenji much comfort, it seems.

“I’m fine!” He pushes Darius’s hand off his shoulder, rushing to find another exit in this maze of a tunnel. 

When another gate comes into view, it appears to be the last straw for your fellow campers.

“Unbelievable."

“Kenji!”

“You said–”

An automated voice interrupts their complaints. 

“Attention. All park-goers must report to the south ferry dock for immediate evacuation. Last ferry departs in 30 minutes.”

“Not helping!” Kenji yells, taking his stress out on a robotic voice in the ceiling. 

Darius makes an attempt at calming Kenji down. “Just try to remember. Breathe–” 

“He’s been doing that, Darius! This isn’t getting us anywhere!” 

You couldn’t hold yourself back from snapping at the boy. It’s not like you were trying to defend Kenji or anything, but the constant complaining from everyone was getting on your nerves. 

Despite all that, the sorrowful gaze you receive from Darius almost immediately makes you regret speaking at all. Sammy interrupts the staring contest going on between the two of you by calling Kenji and Darius’s names.

“The way we came from… where does that tunnel end?” 

“It opens up into the park, I guess.” Kenji answers, the anger in his voice less noticeable than before. “Why do you–” 

A snarl coming from one direction of the tunnel cuts Kenji off. The frightening shadow of a dinosaur creeping along the walls causes a ripple of fear among your group.

You all back up slowly, hoping to go unnoticed. However, that’s all put to waste when Yasmina throws herself off balance, her DIY walking stick falling to the ground with a ‘clank’. 

Kenji takes the chance to snatch the stun gun once more, this time for a better purpose than hitting a door with it. 

The sounds reach their peak as a Compy runs around the corner, the snarling now no louder than the ‘caw’ of a bird.

“It’s just a Compy.” Darius says with a relieved sigh. 

Kenji switches the stun gun on, the crackling of electricity scaring the Compy off easily.

“Seriously, Kenji? It’s like a foot tall!” Brooklynn scoffs.

“And, uh… not alone.” Yasmina points towards the group of Compies gathering in front of you all.

“We need to go,” Darius says firmly. “In a group, Compies can–” 

“Not really the time for a lesson, dino-nerd.” Kenji interjects, throwing a Compy off his arm.

“Why not? It’s not like you’ve gotten us anywhere, even close to the dock, Mr. VIP!” Brooklynn sasses.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m sorry.” Kenji nods his head sarcastically. “Don’t you have some sort of ‘unboxing being a brat all the time’ video to be shooting?” 

Brooklynn gasps in offense, her face twisting into a sneer at his words. 

“Hey!” Sammy pushes herself between them, trying to stop a fight from breaking out at such a bad time. “Calm yourselves! You’re scaring the itty-bitty Compy family.” 

“Scaring the–? Are you for real?!” Kenji’s wails. “After everything, you’re defending the dinosaurs?!” He grabs a Compy just as it’s about to bite down on his pants, throwing it to the ground. 

“It’s not her fault you got us lost!” Brooklynn jabs. 

Yasmina scoffs, a fake chuckle leaving her lips. “It’s definitely her fault for some of this.” 

“Let it go Yaz, it’s just a phone!”

“Wait, what?” Yasmina stares at the pink-haired girl with wide eyes. “I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.” 

You had to agree.

Darius dodges a Compy that was trying to jump onto him. “Guys! Just stop–” 

A loud, guttural roar puts a pause to all attacks, verbal and physical. At the end of the barely illuminated hall, a Carnotaurus stands tall and proud. Showing off the scar on its snout, you’re certain you know who this dinosaur is.

“Toro.” Darius murmurs. 

The carnivore roars loudly, its voice bouncing off the tunnel walls. Kenji shoves Yasmina’s temporary walking stick back at her, and you all run with Kenji leading.

“Now you know which way to go?” Brooklynn hisses angrily.

“You wanna stop and ask him for directions?” Kenji retorts.

“Just run!” Darius shouts. 

Toro snaps his jaws at your group, losing his balance and falling to the ground at a sharp turn. His clawed feet thump against the ground, a horrifying indicator on how close he is to you all.

When you all run into a metal gate, you only have a quick second to duck down to avoid getting squished by Toro’s weight. The carnivore shoves himself into the gate, metal rattling with the force. 

Kenji leads with another sharp turn. The quick direction changes being the only thing keeping you all from being dinosaur chow. This continues on for longer than you’d like it to, taking quick turns to throw Toro off balance.

Luckily, when Toro’s disoriented, Kenji makes a move to a large vent low on the wall. He makes quick work at removing the cover and motioning everyone inside. Just as he’s adjusting the vent cover back in place, Toro runs across the hall. But with your group no longer in sight, it clumsily skids to a stop, sniffing around for some kind of hint of where you all had gone. 

“We can’t stay here! The ferry–”

“Shh!” Darius shushes Sammy, his eyes peeking through the vent to watch Toro leave in search of new prey. 

In relieving silence, you all make a unanimous decision to travel through the vents rather than the tunnel halls. With all these dinosaurs on the loose, it’s better to stay low if you all want to get off this island. 

Yasmina leads the way this time, crawling through the vents with the stun gun held tightly in her right hand. Coming across another vent opening, she gives a questioning look at Darius. 

With silent confirmation from the shorter boy, the two of them shove themselves against the vent, trying to push it open from the inside out. And when that doesn’t work, Yasmina lets Darius grab hold of the stun gun, and they put all their force into thrusting the stun gun into the steel cover.

That turns out to be a bad idea when the only result they get is a loud ‘clunk’. The sound echoes across the tunnel, and your group pauses all movements. The six of you sit in tense silence, eyes searching for

an out of sight predator.

When nothing happens, everyone lets out sighs of relief. Though the feeling of safety is broken when Toro’s head forces itself into the entrance of the vent. Brooklynn, being the closest to the entrance, crawls backwards with a scream. 

She leans against the edge of the vent, a yell forcing itself out of her mouth with each bite Toro attempts to take out of her. You make a grab at Brooklynn’s shoulder, gripping her jacket and pulling her away from the jaws of the carnivore as Darius and Yasmina hurriedly force the other vent cover off. 

When the cover finally caves in, you all crawl out of the enclosed space as fast as possible. The sight that greets you brings a shimmer to your eye. It’s not a view of the ocean or anything, but a simple sign.

Brooklynn pats your shoulder with a smile, offering a similar expression to Darius. And when he spots the sign, he lets out a disbelieving laugh. 

“Exit to south dock, one thousand feet?”

Everyone lets their excitement be shown by giggles and smiles as they run down the wide tunnel. It was probably some sort of loading dock given its width, but you didn’t really care about that at the moment. Especially not when a shocked gasp escapes Kenji.

The tunnel led to an even wider room, a flush dock. And what makes a flush dock what it is? The door that separates it from the outside world. In place of an exit, an enormous concrete wall blocks your exit.

“No! No, no, no, no!” Kenji cries, sprinting towards the concrete barrier with furrowed brows. 

Everyone is quick to look around the loading dock, pushing crates and boxes away from the walls in search of some sort of switch or button to open the dock. 

“There’s gotta be a door or…” Kenji trails off. 

“There’s no way out.” Brooklynn mutters, her voice cracking with sorrow. “Ugh! They must’ve sealed it off after the park was finished.”

Yasmina scoffs, “Can’t anyone associated with this place make just one good decision?!” 

A roar sounding across the tunnels shuts everyone up, their gazes stuck on the darkness of the tunnel ahead. You all rush to group up again, staring at Darius with fear-ridden eyes. 

“Darius, what do we do now?” Kenji asks desperately, crouched low on the ground as Darius pounds his fists against the solid concrete.

The appointed leader brings his fists to his side, his gaze cast elsewhere. “I don’t know.” 

Another roar, this time much closer, spawns a cold sweat. Once again, everyone looks to Darius for directions, orders, guidance. Yet the boy only claws at his head with a grimace, refusing to look any of you in the eyes.

“But you always know.” Sammy murmurs.

“I don’t know!” Darius shouts, hiding his face in his arms as he brings his knees to his chest. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do about Ben, or Y/n, or Bumpy, or when the Indominus Rex attacked.”

Your eyes widen upon your name being called. Was Darius thinking about these things this whole time?

Toro roars once more, the sound echoing across the tunnel. Darius pounds on the concrete barrier again, explaining more despite being short of breath. 

“All I did was make bad choices and get into trouble and mess everything up.” 

His voice is quiet and uncertain, an unusual combination for Darius. He bangs his clenched fists against a nearby metal crate, grunting in a mix of anger and pain. 

“You never should’ve trusted me. I should’ve just stayed home. I’m a dino-nerd who played a video game, and I’m no good at this.” He lays his head against the crate, still hiding his face from your guy’s view. 

“But you are,” Kenji says, before quickly specifying. “Good at this. I mean, like, I’m sure you’re fine at video games, too, not downplaying that–” 

He gets teasing shoves from just about everyone before he gets to the point. 

“--but… none of us would’ve known what to do, Darius. But because you didn’t give up, we didn’t give up either.”

“You made a difference, Darius. You saved me.” You speak quietly, eyes bouncing from Darius’s face to the floor. 

“You kept us goin’, no matter what some of us have done.” Sammy says solemnly. 

“You made us feel like we were in this together.” Yasmina takes a seat next to Sammy, sharing an almost apologetic look with her. “So, we are. We’re a team. We’re your team.”  

“Things fall apart.” Brooklynn begins. “And that’s okay because when that happens…” 

“We pick up the pieces and we keep going.” Darius mumbles, reminding himself of what he had told all of you back at the destroyed camp. 

Kenji offers a hand to Darius, reassuring smiles worn on all of your faces. With his confidence restored, Darius takes hold of Kenji’s hand and allows himself to be pulled upright.

There’s another roar from Toro, and it’s only a matter of time before he finds you all. 

“He’s getting closer.” Brooklynn whispers. 

“Let’s see what’s in these crates.” Darius says with determination.

You all immediately get to work in opening the abandoned crates, though you have little hope that Jurassic World would leave anything valuable in this sealed up area. Then again, big companies like these always cut corners, so you might get lucky. 

“Come on, something pointy! Come on, something hurty!” Kenji calls, grunting as he pulls open a wooden crate. “Come on…” 

Looking into the crate, he only groans disappointedly. “Medical supplies?” 

Ignoring the fact that those could be incredibly important in the future, you had to agree that they were pretty useless at the moment. Regardless, everyone gathers around the crate. Laying in the crate are some green oxygen tanks, bandages, and tapes. 

“We had these around the house after my dad got sick.” Darius pulls a tank out. “Super compressed air, sensitive to pressure and heat!” 

“Might be able to scare Toro off.” Brooklynn suggests.

“Or distract him long enough for us to find another exit.” Darius proposes, placing the tank back into the crate. “Kenji, Brooklynn, let’s get this crate loaded on that cart.” 

Darius gestures to a wheeled cart behind him before turning to you and Sammy. 

“Sammy, Y/n, use those bandages and tape to make a fuse. We’re gonna need something to light it with.”

The stun gun Yasmina’s been using as a walking stick crackles to life in her hands, an obvious answer to Darius’s thinking. The blue electricity brings a smile out of everyone, but the mood is dampened when another roar is heard.

You all set into action, and when the rumbling steps of a familiar Carnotaurus get close enough, the trap is already set. 

Toro snarls, roaring as if to announce its presence to its prey. The carnivore brings its snout to the ground, sniffing around as it growls. Seeing as your group hasn’t gotten discovered yet, Darius decides the plan is a go. 

Once Darius gives the signal, Yasmina switches the stun gun on, touching the tape-bandage concoction with the charged electrodes. But when it doesn’t light, you all stare in concern.

“Yaz?” Brooklynn whispers anxiously.

“I’m trying! It won’t light!” Yasmina hisses. 

With a gasp, you reach into the fanny pack tied around your waist, pulling out Ben’s custom-made hand sanitizer. 

“Hold on!”

You pour a generous amount onto the end of the DIY rope, everyone watching curiously as you do so. When there seems to be a good amount of it, you shove it back into the fanny pack. 

“This’ll burn.” You nearly grin. 

Without another word, Yasmina switches the stun gun on again, and a fire finally starts. 

“Thanks, Ben.” Brooklynn smiles.

Noticing the smell of the fire, Toro roars alarmingly. 

“Now!” Darius orders, and you all push your weight against the cart. 

It rolls towards the Carnotaurus, fire trailing up the tape-bandage rope all the while. You all watch in anticipation as it speeds towards the dinosaur. And with a flick of its head, it tosses the cart away. The action reminds you of the Sinoceratops during the cattle drive, which isn’t a very good memory. 

The wooden crate gives way as it flies, blazing wood planks falling like snow across the dock. You all screamed in horror as the fire spreads towards anything flammable, yet Toro seems only minorly affected by the flames. The large carnivore roars aggressively, its sights set on your little group.

“Run!”

“Where?”

“Anywhere!” 

You all scurried away from Toro, making sharp turns when possible and unsuccessfully hiding behind some stray crates. Kenji ends up tumbling onto the track running across the dock, rolling backwards to dodge Toro’s jaws. 

By the time he jumps out of the crevice, Toro’s attention is on Brooklynn and Sammy. The latter quickly jumps out of the way while Brooklynn more so falls out of the way. Toro topples over and onto its back with the force of its failed attack, and Brooklynn has to avoid its flailing limbs to make her escape.

It swiftly chases after the pink-haired girl once it regains its balance, snapping its jaws at her every movement. The clanking of the stun gun diverts its attention, Yasmina using it to get herself back on her feet. It races towards the injured girl, jaws wide with the expectation of a mighty treat.

However, Toro’s mouth clamps shut when he gets hit in the snout with a piece of wood. The culprit being no other than the dino-nerd himself. With Toro’s attention on him, Darius shouts in fright as he runs away. Yasmina takes the chance to create some distance between her and the Carnotaurus.

As Darius goes every which way in order to avoid Toro, you fall backwards as they both come scarily close to your form. Though Kenji, who grunts as you practically throw yourself onto him, breaks your fall. He complains about your elbow poking his stomach or something, but your attention is still on Toro and his rampage.

Seeing Darius struggling to get the carnivore off his back, you push Kenji back onto the ground as you bring yourself to your feet. You almost stumble when Toro runs straight into the concrete barrier of the tunnel, but steady yourself quickly. 

“Darius!” you call out to him, hand outstretched towards him. 

You pull him up to your level with a grunt, just in time for Toro to regain his footing. With a stomp of his foot, he sets one of the oxygen tanks off, compressed air spraying out with a hiss.

The stun gun crackles with electricity as Darius switches it on, yet he does nothing with it until you both run away from Toro’s roaring form. Once you push yourself behind a crate with the rest of the group, Darius takes aim at Toro and the compressed air surrounding him. 

And with a single toss, the area lights up from the explosion. Darius tosses himself behind the crates with the rest of you, and your group covers their heads as everything turns black from the smoke. 

The lights from above crackle and spark, some falling from the ceiling and onto the ground below. There’s many coughing fits and groans from your group, the smoke only dissipating by a smidgen. 

“Is everyone okay?” Darius calls out weakly. 

There’s a short silence as everyone checks themselves for any injuries. 

“Uh, surprisingly, yeah.” Brooklynn says in shock. 

“Whoo-hoo!” Kenji cheers tiredly. “We did it. We beat…” 

The sound of crumbling debris puts a pause to his celebration, everyone gasping in confusion. Not too far in front of you, Toro emerges from the rumble with a pained roar.

You almost can’t see over all the smoke and dust, but as it growls pitifully, you can make out its scarred skin. If you thought the scar on its snout was bad, then this was downright horrendous, and it was. Toro’s skin was a mix between red and black, charred and burned skin mixed crudely. 

It can barely hold itself up, falling on its side as it tries to search for signs of life. Turning to your group, it snarls and whines, its previous aggression nowhere to be seen. Though it still seems as if it refuses to give up. 

But your group stands tall, glaring at the carnivore with determination rather than fear. Toro stares back, its yellow eyes glancing over each and every one of you. When none of you back down from its gaze, it roars in defeat, turning around and walking back into the darkness of the tunnel. 

“Yeah! That’s what you get! Take that, Toro!” Darius screams happily. “That’s how you do it!”

The Carnotaurus roars a final time before it disappears into the dark tunnels opposite to you all. 

“Whoo-hoo!”

“Yes!” 

Cheering fills the otherwise dreary dock, hands raised in the air joyfully.

“I thought we were goners! Oh, that was scary!” Kenji laughs, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“Doesn’t get better than that.” Darius nods his head. 

“Wanna bet?” Yasmina asks from her standing position, pointing a thumb towards the concrete barrier from before. 

Now, light shines through the damaged barrier, a beacon of hope. Wide smiles spread across everyone’s face, some chuckling in disbelief.

In an instant, you all are running through the grass and foliage, the destination already set in your minds. Passing just a few more trees, you break through the forest line and make contact with the dock. Though what greets you isn’t a gigantic ship packed with escapees, instead you’re greeted with an empty dock and the caws of hungry seagulls.

“They’re gone.” Darius huffs, his breath short from running all the way there. “They’re all gone.”

“They’ll be back for us, won’t they?” Sammy asks hesitantly.

“Of course they will. And until then, we’ve got each other.” Darius walks forward, punching Kenji’s shoulder playfully. “Right, Mr. VIP?” 

“Absolutely, Dino-nerd.” Kenji smirks, slapping your back to get your attention. “Bookworm’s got it, right?” 

You roll your eyes with a scoff, though there’s no anger in your voice. “Yup, definitely.” 

“Hey,” Brooklynn pushes herself between the three of you, a sly smile worn on her face. “Don’t forget ‘superstar’.”

“Barf.” Yasmina jokes, leaning against Sammy with a grin. 

The moment ends as you all stare where the sun meets the ocean, a melancholy feeling coming across all of you. 

We thought it’d be fun.

We thought we’d be safe. 

But we didn’t realize the horror waiting for us on the island.

Claws, teeth, screaming…

So much screaming.

Despite all the hardships, we’ll never give up.

We’ll keep fighting.

That’s the promise we make every day we get. 

We will survive.

We will get home.

Because no matter what happens, no matter what this place throws at us next, none of us are in this alone.